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Chapter Text

Gaius knew Merlin was up to nothing sensible when he entered his chambers and found the boy closing the book he had been reading with excessive hurry and a guilty expression on his face.

“Nothing!” Merlin exclaimed even before Gaius had the chance to say a word.

The physician just looked at him rising an eyebrow. Merlin grimaced under this characteristic gesture, knowing that it was not a good sign.

“Right, listen. I’ve been thinking —and I know you’re not going to like it at the beginning, but just listen, please— that…” He took a deep breath and then blurted out: “I should practise aging spells.”

Gaius did not say a word, but his eyebrow rose eloquently.

“Do you remember when I turned into Dragoon the Great to take the blame for Gwen’s accusations of sorcery?”

“Hmm. Let me think. You mean when you almost ended burning up at the stake because you couldn’t reverse the spell without my help? Yes, now that you mention it, I do remember it.”

“You see, that’s what I mean,” Merlin said with a beatific smile, dancing through the chamber and sitting on a table. “It didn’t go exactly well last time, but it’s a very useful spell, isn’t it?”

Gaius did not answer. He merely crossed his arms and looked at him with disapproval.

“Yes, it is,” Merlin continued, “because it allows me to use magic in front of Arthur without being recognised. So, I should perfection it to have a better outcome next time. And to perfection it, I need practice.”

“Aham.”

“Yes. And today is a perfect day to do it because today, you won’t believe it, but today, Arthur has given me the day off!” Merlin laughed.

“He has!” Gaius humoured him.

“Yes. And, okay, you're right, maybe getting older is not a good idea. So, since I appreciate you so much and I really do take your opinions into account, I thought I could try a different kind of enchantment this time. Similar, but also completely different. So, this time, I thought I could try and turn into…” He made a pause to add emotion. “A child.”

Gaius let Merlin’s words sink in until he felt capable of giving a calmed answer.

“Why on earth would you need to turn into a child?” he finally said with the patience of a saint.

“Not into a very little one. A twelve-year-old, maybe. Look, I must say that being an old man wasn’t very nice, I’m really sorry, Gaius, but it’s tiring and aching, and I don’t feel strong enough to use magic with all my potential. But, if I am a kid, I’ll have plenty of energy. And Arthur may be willing to execute an old man if things turn bad, but a child? Come on, I know Arthur better than I know myself, he would never sentence a child to death. He wouldn’t even imprison him. Believe me. I would be safe.”

Gaius sighed again.

“In how many languages do you want me to explain to you the thousands of reasons why this is a very bad idea, Merlin?”

“But it is a great idea! Listen, we don’t need it to work perfectly well, we don’t have that pressure now. We’re just going to try, taking advantage of the fact that today I don’t have to work and we have time to fix it if something goes wrong. Besides, being a child, I’ll be able to turn back into my adult self easily, I’m sure. Being old didn’t really work for me, Gaius, it was awful, I’m telling you, but when I was a kid… Oh, Gaius, you should have seen the things I could do as a kid, without having studied spells or anything. When I was twelve, I was an absolute force of nature. You can ask my mum.”

Gaius snorted and ran a hand over his face.

“Nothing I can say will change your mind, am I wrong?”

Merlin looked at him and shook his head, trying not to smile too shamelessly.

“Right then. Let’s get on with it.”

“Great! We don’t actually need to get on with anything, everything is ready,” Merlin said joyfully, gesturing towards a pot he had been strategically hiding behind his back. “Ready?”

“Not really.”

“Come on, don’t be so grumpy. Oh, and don’t worry,” Merlin added, casting Gaius an excited glance. “Everything will be alright.”

Miht dagan, beþecce me. Adeadaþ þisne gast min freondum ond min feondum!” he chanted, and then everything went… well, just a little bit wrong.

Chapter Text

Approximately half an hour later, Arthur was heading towards Gaius’s tower with his hair dishevelled, not dressed, and almost despaired. He was in a hurry, and he was about to get into the physician’s chambers when Gaius’s thunderous voice stopped him a few feet from the door.

“Twelve! Twelve, he said! Five, I’d say! And now, of course, you are too young to fix this, and I have to get you out of the trouble myself, as usual! When will you grow up? We’d better hide you from Arthur, because if he sees you in this state…”

Surprised, confused and maybe just a little bit concerned, Arthur stuck his ear to the door not to eavesdrop, clearly, because kings do not do that.

“Sire,” greeted Sir Leon respectfully as he walked down the corridor, impassive at Arthur’s antics.

On the other side of the door the room become quiet, and Arthur understood that his knight’s greeting had given away his presence. He didn’t beat around the bush and opened the door.

“Gaius, where is Merlin? I know I said he had the day off, but I had forgotten that…”

Arthur fell quiet and looked around. By the corner of his eye, he spotted a quick movement in Merlin’s door. Gaius, for his part, was looking at him with a suspiciously innocent expression and a strange flush on his cheeks.

“Gaius? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is fine, My Lord, thank you. You were saying…?”

“I’m sorry to ruin his free day but I need Merlin urgently. Now. Where is he?”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m afraid he is gathering herbs. He won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”

Arthur took a deep breath. He knew that soothing tone in Gaius’s voice. He was used to his well-intended excuses that always tried to cover for Merlin when he was being his lazy self. Normally, Arthur would overlook it, but this time something told him —that something being Gaius shouting to someone— that his servant was not far. And he was not going to slope off that easily.

“Is he in the tavern?” he asked, raising his voice.

“Oh no, no. He is running an errand. Though I suppose that, if he finishes his chores soon, he may spend the rest of the day in the tavern, giving that he has the day off and he likes going there with Gwaine,” Gaius said thoughtfully. “In any case, I don’t expect him until tomorrow morning.”

“No,” Arthur said calmly, walking towards Merlin’s room. “Come on, Merlin! I know you are there, you idiot!”

He knocked the door politely.

“See what I am doing? This, my dear Merlin, is called knocking. Now, when I ask you to do the same, you’ll know what I am talking about.”

There was no answer. Arthur sighed and rested his forehead against the door.

“Listen, Merlin, I am sorry you cannot enjoy your day off today. I’ll make it up for you in the future, I promise. I’ll give you two in exchange when… I don’t know when, but I’ll give them to you. But today these two emissaries from Nemeth are coming, and I need to get dressed and look decent and…” he casted a sidelong glance in Gaius’s direction and lowered his voice. “And help to write the speech. Please.”

Merlin kept quiet, and Arthur’s patience was, in the best of cases, short-lived. So, without a second thought, he opened the door and got into his servant’s room. To his surprise, it was empty.

“Merlin?”

Strange. And disappointing. Arthur could have sworn he would find him there. He was about to turn around and give up when he heard something like a gasp coming from… under the bed?

“Seriously?” He snorted, rolling his eyes. “What are you, five? Merlin, you’ve got three seconds to get under there if you don’t want me to drag you out myself and take you to the stocks.”

Nothing. Could he be more stubborn?

“One. Two…”

He could hear a rustling noise as the bed trembled slightly. Arthur crossed his arms, ready to greet Merlin with his best not-so-friendly face. And then he froze. His frown vanished and his jaw dropped as he saw a little child coming out from under Merlin’s bed wearing Merlin’s clothes. The child stood up slowly, gave him a quick ashamed glance, sniffled, and hanged his head. Arthur stared at him in a bewildered silence. For some reason, the kid was wearing Merlin’s clothes, which looked enormous in him. He seemed to have lost the breeches and the boots, since he was only wearing the stupid red neckerchief and the blue tunic, which covered his pale and skinny legs to the beginning of his calves. His hands were nowhere to be seen, buried as they were in all those surplus centimetres of fabric. The boy’s hair was black as coal, and his skin was pale. Thin face, enormous indigo eyes, full lips, sticky ears… He was the miniature version of Merlin.

“What…” Arthur stuttered.

“Ah, Sire, this is M… Martin. Merlin’s nephew.”

“Merlin’s ne- Gaius, Merlin has no nephews. He has no siblings, damn it. Who is he?”

“Well, huh, that’s what we thought. Merlin thought he was an only son. But it seems that he has a sister that…”

“Gaius,” the kid interrupted so quietly, raising his face to look at Arthur mortified.

And Arthur recognised him. Well, to be honest, he already had this terrible suspicion, but when his eyes met the child’s, all trace of doubt disappeared. He knew those eyes too well.

“Merlin?” he said, gaping at him.

The room went silent. Arthur gave two faltering steps forward.

“Me- Merlin? Is that you?”

“Hi, Arthur,” Merlin greeted shyly, scratching his arm.

***

“How could this happen? How is it possible?”

Arthur stared at that miniature Merlin, unable to fully believe it. The kid gazed at him with gravity, but he would not stop playing with the enormous sleeves of those clothes that had always been too large for him.

“Gaius, why is my servant suddenly… what, a six-year-old?”

“He is five, we believe,” Gaius specified with a sigh.

“Five. Right. And how… how come he is a five-year-old ?”

Merlin stared at them both chewing the sleeve of his jacket nervously.

“Don’t do that, Merlin, it’s disgusting,” Arthur complained. Merlin looked at him but did not stop.

“Well, Sire…” Gaius said after clearing his throat. “Last night Merlin saw two suspicious looking men wandering around the castle and he decided to follow them. They were heading your chambers, Sire. Merlin tried to prevent them from entering and it seems he was attacked with some kind of enchantment they had probably prepared for you. The next thing he remembers is… being like this.”

“That’s true,” Merlin confirmed, nodding effusively with his head and spitting out a wet and wrinkled sleeve.

Arthur looked at him in disgust.

“And why the hell would anyone want to turn me into a pipsqueak like that?”

“Well, Sire, providing they flew away unseen, we can merely speculate. But giving the state your father is currently on, turning you into a child would be a good way of leaving Camelot without a functional heir for many years.”

Arthur buried his head in his hands, overwhelmed.

“Arthur…” Merlin said with that high-pitched voice, putting a sleeve around his shoulders. A full of dribble sleeve, Arthur remembered, but he did nothing to escape his touch. He sighed and uncovered his face to look at the boy. At that boy who was staring at him with the same bright and intense gaze of Merlin’s. At that boy who, damn it, was Merlin.

“I’m so sorry, Merlin,” Arthur mumbled, raising a hesitating hand to stroke his face, still unable to understand how it was possible that this little kid was his servant.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, confused, scratching absent-mindedly his cheek, the one Arthur had touched.

“Because I was their target. It’s me who should be a little boy now, and not you. It’s my fault, and I am sorry.”

Merlin shook his head so furiously that his ears, which seemed bigger than ever, flapped comically on either side of his little head.

“No, it’s not your fault! Besides, it is my duty to protect you. And I’ve done it very well, so I deserve three days off at least,” he said smiling brightly and showing two tender dimples. “But I think nobody would have noticed if you had been cursed. You are already like a gigantic five-year-old.”

“Hang on!” Arthur protested, letting out a chuckle and giving Merlin a little pock on his side that made him squirm and laugh.

“Boys…” Gaius scolded.

 “Yes. Sorry,” Arthur said, sitting straight and concentrating. “What can we do to get him back to normality? You can heal him, right?”

“That’s what I was trying to figure out when you arrived. I must check up my books.”

“Good. We’ll leave you to your work, then.”

“We?” Gaius echoed cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes. Eh, I will take care of Merlin,” Arthur said, giving the boy a smile that was immediately corresponded.

“Are you sure, Sire?” Gaius asked with a worried look. “Are you sure you know how to look after a kid?”

“I’m not a kid!” Merlin protested. “I don’t need to be looked after!”

“Well, it cannot be very different from looking out for the usual Merlin, and I already do that all the time. He’s always getting in trouble.”

“That’s not true!” Merlin protested. “And it’s me who looks after you,” he pointed out, sulking.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.”

“It’s the truth! Gaius!” Merlin whined.

“Sorry, Sire. Forgive my boldness, but… What do you intend to do with him? Don’t you have to greet some emissaries?”

“Yes, I do. That’s why I’ll leave him with Gwen.”

“What!” Merlin burst out. “I thought you were going to look after me!”

“Well, I may have meant we by saying I. And I thought you said you needn’t be looked after!”

“Yes! But…”

“No buts. You’ll stay with Gwen and you’ll be a good boy, or I won’t give you a day off ever again..

“Ever again? You’ve never given me a day off, you clotpole! You’ve ruined the only one you’ve given me in five years!”

“Yeah? Well, now you can wait for other five years, because…”

“Boys!”

“What!” they both shouted, Merlin’s high-pitched voice overlapping Arthur’s.

“If I may… In mi humble opinion, Sire, first of all, we should do something about this,” said Gaius, gesturing eloquently towards Merlin’s attire.

Merlin looked up and down at himself, scowling.

“With me? I’m not a this, Gaius, I’m a person! Kids are people too!”

“You know what, Gaius? I think you’re absolutely right. We definitely must do something about this.”

***

A short while after, Arthur was dragging Merlin through the castle, but they were not moving as fast as he would have wished. The kid’s short legs could not follow the rhythm of Arthur’s pace, and it seemed that the age remedy had not done anything to fix the pathologic clumsiness of his servant. Arthur would even say that it had worsened it, if that was possible; the kid kept tripping time and again with his huge clothes.

“Oh, you are so big!” Merlin exclaimed in awe, eyeing him up and down and tripping over his tunic once more. “You are a lot taller than I thought. Have you grown up?”

“No, Merlin, the thing is you are minuscule now, remember?” Arthur reminded him impatiently.

“Ah! Yeah, could be that, you’re right. Wait, wait, that means that… Oh my God! I am normally that big!” Merlin said with delight. “And even bigger, because I am a bit taller than you.”

Arthur wrinkled his nose.

“Hang on, that’s not true. You weren’t… You are not taller than me.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you are not.”

“A little bit. Admit it.”

“N…”

Merlin stumbled for the hundredth time, and Arthur wondered, slightly worried, if he could pull out his little arm if he continued tugging it. The prince sighed with a mix of exasperation and resignation and stopped to help Merlin roll up his tunic.

“Oh my goodness!” Merlin kept saying unnecessarily excited, because, apparently, his child version had as much verbal incontinence as his adult self. Or even more. “Arthur! If you look tall to me- Arthur! Percival must be a giant! Arthur!” Merlin frowned, slightly worried, and grabbed his hand. “Arthur, he may be a bit scary,” he added in a whisper.

Arthur smiled and squeezed his hand out of reflex.

“Nonsense. Percival wouldn’t hurt a fly. It’s me you should fear, if you don’t shut up. Come on, let’s go now, and quickly.” 

Merlin giggled, and somehow managed to stumble in the very first step he gave even though his tunic was rolled up now. Arthur looked at him astonished. Then he sighed, swore, yielded and picked Merlin up. Arthur was not used to holding children in his arms, so he tried to adjust his little body as well as he could.

“Jesus, your feet are frozen!” he muttered with a shiver and began to rub Merlin’s feet to warm them up.

Then he wondered what level of lack of decorous that would reach in the scale of royal dignity, and an inopportune blush coloured his cheeks.

After all, that kid who had ice instead of feet, was his useless idiot of a servant. He was Merlin, he remembered, and the blush grew more intense. Mortified, Arthur looked at the child out of the corner of his eye just to find out that he was behaving as if the situation was perfectly normal. In fact, he was shifting in the search of a more comfortable position, as though being in Arthur’s arms was something he did every day. And then, when Merlin finally felt comfortable enough, he started to watch Arthur carefully. Arthur could feel his piercing gaze only a few centimetres away from his face, and he was about to complain when he felt the kid’s hands caressing his cheeks and the air of Arthur’s lungs got stuck in its way out of his throat.  

“You haven’t shaved today,” Merlin observed, eyeing him attentively. “You’re itchy,” he added, letting out a chuckle.

Arthur cleared his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry, but my idiotic servant hasn’t been able to work today.”

“Oh, you’re right, I’m sorry,” the boy said cheerfully, and kept caressing his face thoroughly. Then, without a warning, he wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck and stuck his face to Arthur’s to rub his soft cheek against the prince’s beard.

“You are so itchy!” Merlin giggled.

Something stopped working in Arthur’s brain. It was difficult to conceive that this affectionate and spontaneous kid was Merlin, his Merlin, that is, his servant. It was inconceivable indeed because the mere thought of Merlin doing that left Arthur breathless. But, at the same time, it seemed acceptable when it was a five-year-old who was behaving like that. Kids are like that. And kids are lovable. And Arthur almost loved this one out of instinct. Almost.

So, in second thoughts, maybe his princely dignity was still intact.

“But your hair is so soft,” Merlin kept saying, burying his fingers in the loose hair of Arthur’s nape. “Mmm, and it smells so good.”

Arthur smiled when he felt his little fingers stroking his hair.

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s thanks to that girly gunk you keep washing my hair with.”

“Ah, of course,” the kid nodded, pleased. “But it’s sooo soft!”

And, with a sigh, he rested his head against Arthur’s shoulder, although he kept absently running his hands through his hair. It felt nice, having Merlin so close, Arthur mused, and he could not deny that feeling him so little and vulnerable was awakening inside him a new kind of tenderness he had never experienced before. Arthur felt the sudden urge to hold Merlin tighter and draw circles on his back, and so he did, without wondering how respectable that was.

“Come on, let’s go see Gwen before anyone else sees you. Because if that anyone happens to be Gwaine and he recognises you… He’s going to kill me.”

Merlin chuckled against Arthur’s neck.

“What? Gwaine would never kill you!”

“Well, you are afraid of Percival and, right now, I am a bit worried about Gwaine’s reaction.”

“Nonsense. Like you’d say, Gwaine wouldn’t hurt a fly. He is like a dog. He barks a lot, but he never bites.”

“Merlin, no matter how good a dog can be, it’ll surely attack if something bad happens to its family.”

“Yeah, but nothing bad has happened to Gwaine’s family,” Merlin reasoned, fiddling around with a lock of Arthur’s hair.

“Something bad has happened to you. And all his canine wrath will fall on me.”

Merlin giggled again.

“Gwaine’s the best.”

“Gwaine. The best. Really?”

“Yeah. But he won’t hurt you, don’t worry. Lancelot will handle it. Lancelot will understand. Lance is the best.”

“Ah, so everybody is the best now?”

“Yep. Everybody but you,” the child said sticking out his tongue. “Hey, you’ve gone red,” he noticed, stopping his hair massage to touch Arthur’s face with a finger.

“Shut up, Merlin.”

***

“No. No. No, it can’t be. Merlin? You’re saying this is Merlin? Merlin? How can it be? Merlin? Our Merlin?”

Guinevere’s reaction was the expected. Arthur kept stoically nodding to every single one of Gwen’s agitated questions.

“Our Merlin, yes. It’s… It’s a little inconvenience,” Arthur said with a forced smile. He felt Merlin’s disapproving glare fixed on him.

“Oh, but look at you!” Gwen exclaimed, focusing her attention on the kid. “You are a little-darling!”

The girl knelt and held Merlin’s hands, looking at him up and down in some kind of love ecstasy.

“Oh, poor thing, come here,” she said, pulling him into hug.

Or rather a chokehold, Arthur thought as he saw Gwen holding Merlin against her chest and balancing him back and forth. Merlin struggled to free his head only to cast a pleading glance in Arthur’s direction.

“Yes, hum— Guinevere… I think Merlin would like to breathe. Kids also do the breathing thing, you know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, of course, I’m sorry,” she said, embarrassed. “Merlin, sweetheart, don’t you worry about a thing. You’ll be just fine. And meanwhile I can take care of you. Of course,” she said nodding with fervour and staring at Arthur. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Thank you, Gwen, but I can perfectly be on my own,” Merlin said with dignity, which Gwen seemed to find utterly adorable, judging by the “aaww” that escaped her lips.

“Well, then I’ll just keep you company,” she suggested with a smile.

“Hmm. Not necessary, thank you. Let’s go, Arthur,” the kid urged, holding his hand.

“No, Merlin, you have to stay with her.”

“Arthur!” the kid complained, looking at him as if he were betraying him.

Arthur looked at him mystified and then turned to Gwen.

“Guinevere, could you give us a second?”

Gwen nodded and sent the boy a compassionate smile before discreetly stepping back.

“Arthur, I have to come with you.”

“No, Merlin, you have to stay with her. I have to greet two boring nobles, and I cannot take you with me.”

“But I cannot stay with her, Arthur! I like Gwen, she is my friend and all, and I know she means well, but she thinks I am a child!”

“Maybe that’s because you are a child, Merlin.”

The boy looked at him sorrowfully, and Arthur ran a hand over his face.

“Sorry. Look… I’ll speak to Gwen. I’ll tell her you are not a child, okay? Just wait here, please.”

Arthur stood up and went to meet Gwen, who was waiting for him biting her bit.

“Poor Merlin. It must be very hard for him.”

“The truth is— Gwen, I don’t even know what to do. I don’t know what to do with him. I…”

“Gaius will find a cure,” she assured, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m sure of it. But, in the meantime, we should find clothes fitting for him. Martha, one of the maids, has a child his age. I’ll ask her to lend me some clothes for today, and then I’ll take his measurements and give them to Rosemond, who is an excellent dressmaker, in case Gaius needs more time. And I’ll stay with Merlin for as long as it takes.”

“Thank you, Guinevere,” Arthur said with sentiment. “You are the best.”

She took one of his hands to place a kiss on it.

“Don’t worry Arthur. He’ll be fine with me.”

He sighed.

“There’s something you should know. Merlin is still Merlin. He’s five now, yes, but he’s still the same person. He has the same memories, and I’d say he even has the same personality. He’s still that insolent, annoying, funny, kind, and good—Well, you know what I mean. He is still Merlin, and I don’t think he likes to be treated like a child. I mean, try to imagine it.”

Gwen bit her lip and looked at Merlin with sorrow, although almost immediately her gesture softened into a smile. Arthur followed the direction of her gaze. Behind him, Merlin was hopping from one floor title to another, looking full-concentrated.

“But, at the same time… look at him. He really is a five-year-old. It’s not just a matter of size. He is not an adult trapped in the body of a child. He really is a little kid. It’s— it’s complicated.”

“I see.”

“Be patient. And don’t worry about my father. Another servant will take care of him, all right?”

“All right.”

“Hmm. I should probably go now,” Arthur murmured, unable to take his eyes off Merlin.

“Would you like to say goodbye to him?” Gwen suggested with a sympathetic smile.

“I… Yes. Just give me a second.”

Arthur came back to Merlin’s side and knelt to be his height. He looked at the floor in the search for words, but the few he had managed to sketch faded away in the moment his eyes met the kid’s.  

“Take me with you, please,” Merlin begged.

“Merlin.”

“What about your clothes? You need to get dressed!” he said in despair.

“I’ll have to manage.”

“You don’t know how to get dressed on your own, prat. You need me.”

Arthur doubted Merlin would even know how to dress himself right now, but he did not dare say it out loud.

“You’re right. But, right now, it’s you who needs to dress properly. What do you think the emissaries from Nemeth would say, if they saw me accompanied by a servant looking like this?”   

Merlin looked at his own clothes, and by the sad expression that overtook his face, Arthur could tell he had finally yielded.

“Right. Okay. Listen to me. First, you must put on your shirt. The red one is clean. First the head, then the arms. Then, you put on the breeches and the chainmail. The chest protector is for the chest, and the hood goes over your back. Then, the belt. Fasten it on the fifth hole. One, two, three, four, five. Oh, and don’t forget the boots or your sword. And the cape! Remember to fasten it well, you won’t want to lose it or trip over it in front of all those nobles…!”

“Right, right, I think I got it. Thank you,” said Arthur with a wide grin, ruffling Merlin’s hair.

“And… hum… well, what are you going to do about… you know, your speech?” Merlin mumbled, eyeing him with obvious concern.

Arthur grimaced. That was a good question.

“Don’t worry, you’ll do it well,” Merlin hasted to add, placing a hand on his forearm. “You just must remember not to repeat too much the word thing.”

Arthur could not help but laugh. It was so sweet, listening to a little kid speaking about state issues with such seriousness. He tried to remember that that child was Merlin, his Merlin. His best fr— servant.

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a fond smile. “You just stay out of trouble while I’m gone, all right?”

“Me? Come on, when have I ever been in trouble?” Merlin asked with a goofy grin.

“You are a menace,” Arthur snorted.

He ruffled his hair again and stood up. He had just spun around when Merlin’s hands took tight hold of his right hand.

“Come back soon, please,” the boy begged, his eyes shining anxious.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back as soon as I can. And… I’ll make sure Percival is busy. You won’t have to see him until I’m with you again, okay?”

“Okay,” Merlin said calmly, and let his hand go.

Arthur walked away without looking back. Something told him that if he was to see those sad eyes again, he would not be able to leave Merlin ever again.

***

Arthur left the throne room maintaining a blank and regal expression until he turned the corner and finally found himself alone. He let out all the air he had been holding during the long session. Arthur had never been keen on diplomacy, and he was not fond of that ridiculous system in which a bunch of stuffy and greedy nobles ruled the world while other people struggled to survive. And then he hated all those protocols and rules of decorum which had people trying to keep up appearances shielding behind carefully studied personalities. It was a cold world full of fake smiles and tense silences. A world that, now, was his world, Arthur reminded himself once more. He sighed and frowned, wondering what those Nemethians were up to; emissaries did not use to travel to other kingdoms just to present their respects. There was always a purpose. What it was, Arthur did not know yet. Though, to be honest, he had not paid enough attention during the reception. His mind had been elsewhere. Specifically, with a child that was probably scared and needed him by his side.

On his way to Gaius’s chambers, Arthur focused on replaying the whole meeting on his mind. Arthur had been determined to finish it off as soon as possible without being impolite. He had given a welcome speech based on the one Merlin had written for him for his meeting with Olaf weeks before. Then, the guests had begun talking, all courtesy and praises, and Arthur had dozed off, distracted by the sudden presence of Lancelot, who should not have been there, but who had come into the room discretely and eyed the newcomers critically before relaxing and nodding towards Arthur. And, after that… The Nemethians had talked about how good an alliance between their kingdoms would be. Arthur frowned. It seemed that the king of Nemeth would be more than willing to unite their kingdoms in a sort of very permanent way. Ah. Of course. That was it, then. They must be there to discuss his possible marriage with Princess Mithian of Nemeth. A smile that tasted sour touched his lips. Yeah, sure. Just what Arthur needed in that moment, a good strategic marriage.

“Knock, knock,” he announced himself when he finally arrived at the physician’s chambers. “May I come in?”

“Come in, Sire.”

Arthur’s intentions were to ask Gaius about the remedy, but still he felt a stab of disappointment when he did not find Merlin there.

“Any luck?”

“I’m afraid there is a problem, Sire.”

Arthur’s heart sank.

“What is it?” he asked, struggling to maintain a firm voice.

“I’ve found a possible remedy, but…”

“But?”

“I’m lacking a main ingredient. It is very rare, but I am afraid that, without it, the remedy wouldn’t work.”

“Right. Well, that can be handled. I already went once to get Merlin that stupid flower which only grew in a cave custodied by a thousand magical beings that wanted to kill me, didn’t I?”

“Well, this won’t be that easy.”

“That easy?!”

“No, Sire. This plant only blooms during full moon nights in clearings that have been used to perform magic rituals or powerful enchantments. And it is incredibly mayfly. The remedy must be prepared in situ, with a fresh flower; otherwise, it would wither and it would be useless. And then… well, if it is not used in the exact dose and in its optimum maturing state, it may result… lethal.”

Arthur stared blankly at him for a few seconds.

“So. You are telling me that, in order to get Merlin back to normality, we must wait for a full moon, look for a magical meadow and then pick up a flower with which make a potion that will probably kill him.”

“Yes. Precisely.”

Arthur had to sit down.

“That’s why I thought we might as well—,” Gaius stopped and sighed. “I believe I should go consult the Druids, Sire. They’ll probably know how to find the flower and how to make the potion. I know you don’t trust Druids, My Lord, but I think it's our best chance to get Merlin back.”

Arthur nodded absently.

“Extreme measures are required in times of need,” he mumbled. “I understand. We’ll have to take that risk. For Merlin.”

Whatever it takes, a furious voice added in his mind.

“Then, I’m afraid I’ll have to leave, My Lord. In two days at the most. The full moon is upon us, and we should take the chance if we don’t want to wait for another lunar cycle.”

“Yes, of course. It’ll be—”

He was cut off by the door slamming open to reveal a little dark-haired whirlwind.

“Arthur!” Merlin yelled and then proceeded to barrel into Arthur without any sense of decorum, burying his head in the prince’s stomach and leaving him breathless.

“Aw, Merlin!”

The child jumped away and began to harass him with questions.

“How did it go? How are you? Did you manage to get dressed? And the speech? Did it go well? I was worried about you!”

“Calm down, breath, everything went all right. See? The nobles adored my speech, and I look as handsome and regal as I always do,”  Arthur said standing up, spreading his arms and turning around. “All without your help.”

The boy glanced at him critically and pulled him back to his seat.

“Well, your hair could look better,” he opined, stroking Arthur’s hair in an attempt to smooth it. “Oh, I had forgotten how soft it is!”

Arthur chuckled.

“Hey, look at you! That’s definitely better,” Arthur approved, eyeing him up and down.

The boy was wearing fitting clothes at last. Brown boots, brown breeches, beige shirt, brown waistcoat. No neckerchief.

“Better than nothing, I suppose,” Merlin sighed, scratching absently his bare neck.

“Oh, but we've ordered his habitual clothes to Rosemund,” Gwen intervened sweetly.

Arthur started a little; he had not noticed her presence. He gave the girl a wave and a smile, and she raised a hand in response. She was beaming and holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers against her chest. Gwen’s eyes followed the direction of Arthur’s inquisitive glance, and her smile grew even bigger.

“Ah! Look, Merlin picked them for me. Lovely, don’t you think?”

“They are beautiful indeed,” Arthur nodded, although he suspected Gwen was not talking about the bouquet. He lowered his voice so that he could only be heard by Merlin. “Well, Merlin, I see you haven’t been wasting time, huh? I leave you alone for a couple of hours and you try and steal my girlfriend?”

Merlin laughed, surprised.

“What? No! I was just trying to be grateful and kind and polite, just like my mother taught me.”

“Well then don’t be so grateful and kind and polite in the future. Have you seen the way she’s looking at you? I swear she’s never looked at me like that,” Arthur joked in a whisper.

They both turned to look at Gwen, who was gazing adoringly at Merlin.

“She hasn’t?” Merlin frowned and then shrugged. “That’s funny! She’s looked at me like that plenty of times before. Before being little, I mean.”

Arthur’s jaw dropped, but Merlin did not seem to notice his astonishment. He had focused his attention on the dinning table.

“I’m hungry. What are we going to eat for lunch, Gaius? Chicken?”

“No.”

“But I want chicken.”

“Well, we have sprouts.”

“What? Sprouts?” Merlin faked a nausea. “I don’t want sprouts! I want chicken!”

“Huh, sprouts are good for… hmm… growing,” Arthur offered.

The child glared at him.

“Prat, you don’t like them either! I’ve never ever seen you eat sprouts!” Then he decided to change his strategy. His eyes grew even bigger and shinier, resembling those of a puppy. “Please, Arthur don’t let him feed me with sprouts. Please. They’re torture! Do you want to torture me?” Merlin whimpered. “Arthur? Please?”

Arthur knew he was lost. There was no human way to resist those pleading eyes.

“Okay, right! I’ll bring you some chicken from the kitchens. Happy?”

“Great! Have lunch with me?”

“No?”

“Yes! And Gwen too. And then we can go see the knights. Please, please, please…”

Gwen smiled at Arthur, and Arthur could have sworn that it was a pleading smile as well. He yielded with a sigh.

“All right.”

***

“All right, I've gathered you here because I have some news that I must share with you,” Arthur announced to his knights in the throne room hours later.

Around him, Leon, Percival, Elyan, Gwaine and Lancelot looked at him with anticipation. Arthur's gaze stopped for a moment in Percival's strong arms and could not help but think that they alone were bigger than Merlin’s whole body now. It made sense for the child to be intimidated.

“You are my most trusted knights, and I hope that what I will share with you will not come out of here,” the prince continued, looking at them solemnly.

They all nodded automatically, Leon with solemnity and the rest of them with different levels of fervour, being the least convincing Gwaine, who was looking at Arthur with a slight frown. He had not seen Merlin in the whole day, and he probably suspected that something about his friend was not quite right.

“We are facing a small crisis,” Arthur continued, and an exasperated snort from behind him reached his ears. “Well, all things considered, it may not be so small after all,” he mused, and then he squared his shoulders to look at his knights in the eye one by one.

“It's Merlin,” he said at last.

He studied calmly the reactions of his men. Leon's eyebrows rose with genuine concern, Elyan slit his eyes and squeezed his lips, Percival's eyes and mouth opened, Gwaine took two steps forward and grabbed the knob of his sword, and Lancelot... Lancelot, incomprehensibly, did not vary his gesture at all.

“What about Merlin, where is he?” Gwaine asked with a grim face.

Arthur sighed.

“Here,” he merely said, and he stepped aside.

From behind the throne came Merlin, his head down and overcome with an unusual shyness. Silence fell in the throne room. Everyone stared dumbfounded at the boy—all but Lancelot, who was looking at him as if Merlin was the usual Merlin—until Gwaine broke the ice.

“Merlin? Are you Merlin? My Merlin?”

Arthur found the use of that possessive somewhat irritating.

“Yes. It's Merlin,” he confirmed, and it took him a lot of effort not to say my Merlin , though somehow that was exactly how it sounded.

“Is that really you, buddy?” Gwaine asked the boy, ignoring Arthur.

“Yes. Hi, Gwaine,” Merlin said, venturing a smile.

The knight ran a hand through his hair.

"Wow, Merlin, man. You look younger than ever.”

***

After the necessary explanations and subsequent reactions and questions, the knights’ attention began to focus on the child. A little hesitatingly at first, they started to address him with tentative smiles and kind words. As Percival's turn came, Merlin glanced at Arthur, took a deep breath, and stepped in the direction of the knight.

"Hello, Sir Percival," he said, stretching out an arm.

Percival crouched down and gently grabbed his forearm.

“I've never realised how tall you are. Doesn't it make you dizzy, to see everything from up there? Everything must look so small.”

The man chuckled and smiled at the child.

“Want to check it yourself?” he offered, holding out his hands.

Merlin hesitated just a moment, shot another glance at Arthur, squared his shoulders and then nodded.

“Okay!”

Percival lifted him and sat him on his arm, so that the boy’s head was at the same height as his.

“Wow! Arthur! Look how tall I am!” Merlin laughed marvelled. “Can you… can you walk around?” he asked Percival, beaming.

Arthur shook his head, smiling, and admired Merlin’s bravery once more; his reduced size had not lessened his courage. As he watched Percival running around the room carrying that sack of laughter, Arthur approached Lancelot.

“You don’t look very surprised,” he said, standing next to him.

“My Lord,” Lancelot said respectfully. “I am not surprised. I’ve had time to assimilate the news. Gaius told me about Merlin’s new condition early this morning.”

Arthur blinked, surprised. He knew Lancelot and Merlin were good friends —very good friends, to be honest— but he was still surprised to learn that Gaius had come to him in particular. Maybe he had thought Merlin would need his support. After all, Lancelot had always been his most attentive, thoughtful, and sensible knight, and his usual serenity was contagious. And, well, it was clear that the knight appreciated his servant. It was logical to assume that Lancelot was important to Merlin as well.

“Besides, we had already seen each other,” Lancelot continued, smiling at Merlin when he saw him walking towards them.

“Yes, that’s true,” Merlin confirmed with a wide grin and flushed cheeks. “Did you see that? Percy is tall as a mountain, and strong as a bear! It’s been almost like flying…”

“You didn’t tell me you’d already been with Lancelot,” Arthur reproached, a little hurt.

The boy shrugged.

“It was just a moment. I asked him to look after you during the reception.”

“What?”

“That,” Merlin said, tilting his head. “I asked him to take a look at those emissaries to make sure they weren’t bad.”

Arthur recalled that the knight had sneaked into the throne room in the middle of the encounter.

“Why?” he said, bewildered.

“ ‘Cause I wasn't there to protect you," the boy stated as if it was obvious, shrugging again.

Arthur couldn't help but laugh. Merlin was always saying things like that. I'll protect you, I have to protect you, I've saved your life a thousand times , blah, blah, blah. Arthur had never understood that obsession of his, for it was obvious that Merlin could do little to protect him. Actually, the one who needed protection was Merlin, and thus Arthur always kept an eye on him whenever they were outside Camelot’s walls. But now Merlin was even more helpless, and hearing that tiny, scrawny child say that he had to protect him was hilarious. Touching, yes, but funny nonetheless.

However, neither Merlin nor Lancelot laughed, and Arthur caught them exchanging one of those looks of understanding that he had never come to understand. They did that often, Merlin and Lancelot, and Arthur was not blind. He knew that there was a special connection between them, a two-way communication that inevitably left Arthur out. Arthur, who spent almost every waking hour with Merlin. How could Lancelot understand his servant much better than he did, if they barely spent time together?

“I didn’t want to upset him, Sire,” Lancelot told him a bit later, when Merlin was distracted by Gwaine’s playful comments. “He asked me to come with you, and I thought it would do no harm.”

“No, of course,” Arthur replied, eyeing his knight thoughtfully.

***

It was a long day. An extremely long day. As far as Arthur was concerned, it might have lasted a century. When night fell, the prince felt he had aged a good measure of years.

They had chicken for dinner again, all together in the throne room. Merlin amid all the knights, prattling incessantly, making everyone laugh and visibly enjoying while Arthur worried and wondered what was best for his servant. Gaius was leaving soon, and Merlin could not take care of himself, no matter how much the child insisted otherwise. They had to find a solution.

When the boy began to nod off on Gwaine's shoulder, Arthur decided it was probably time for him to go to sleep. Everyone apparently considered that escorting them to Merlin’s bedroom was a wonderful idea, and so Arthur ended up leading a procession of true devotees of a sleepy Merlin. The knights waited at the door of Gaius’s chambers as Gaius, Arthur, Gwen and Merlin entered the room. Arthur stayed with Gaius and let Gwen deal with bedtime. The girl put Merlin in bed and tucked him in as if she had been born for it, managing to do it in a way that did not feel violent or awkward at all.

“Well, I think someone’s going to sleep like a baby,” Gwen announced with a smile as she left the boy’s small room.

“Arthur?” Merlin’s voice called from behind her.

Arthur exchanged a glance with Gwen, and the girl gestured towards the bedroom door. Arthur shook his head in alarm, but she frowned and put her arms on her hips.

“Go bid him good night, don’t be so mean,” she whispered in a tone that did not allow discussion, and so Arthur had no choice but to obey, which was quite ironic, considering that he was the prince and current regent of Camelot.

“I’m here,” he said awkwardly as he walked into the room.

As soon as Merlin saw him, he dropped his head on the pillow, letting out a relieved sigh.

“I forgot to go make your bed,” he whispered in shame.

Arthur smiled and rolled his eyes.

“As if it were the first time.”

“Do you think I’m going to stay like this forever?” Merlin murmured weakly, and Arthur’s heart twisted painfully.

“Of course not. Gaius is working on the antidote. You’ll be your useless and annoying self soon enough, I’m sure.”

“I don’t want to be a burden to you all.”

“You are not, Merlin. Everyone is here voluntarily, and they look quite delighted to me.”

“Do you really think so?” the child asked dubiously.

Arthur sat on the edge of his bed.

“Of course. I’d never have guessed it, but apparently all it takes is an angelic face with its dimples, rosy cheeks and hair swirls, for all my knights to lose their senses. What a bunch of idiots. They’re completely useless.”

The boy covered his mouth with the sheets to try to hide his laughter, and Arthur stared at him with a fond smile until the boy covered his head completely. He had to admit that that child was quite lovely. In fact, Merlin had always been... There was something magnetic about him. Arthur did not know anyone who didn’t appreciate him; it was common knowledge that everybody liked Merlin. He was always welcomed by bright smiles, and he unintentionally turned everyone around him into his protectors. It was almost like a superpower. And if he normally inspired affection and tenderness, then his child self was an absolute weapon of mass destruction.

“I don't want to be a burden to you,” the child murmured from under the shelter of the sheets.

Arthur uncovered his little face to look him in the indigo eyes.

“You are not. You will never be.”

***

After leaving Merlin’s room, Arthur scanned Gaius’s quarters and spotted the physician, Gwen and Gwaine, who had sneaked in and was sniffing around the shelves. Arthur took a deep breath and asked Gwen to call for Lancelot as well. When the knight had joined them, Arthur beckoned them to sit around the physician’s small table. He took a seat among them and looked at them gravely.

“I need to talk to you. I’ve been thinking… This morning, Merlin mentioned his mother. And Gaius is going to leave to find the Druids soon. I’ve been wondering… Maybe we should send Merlin home, with his mother.”

Everyone looked at him with expressions Arthur refused to analyse.

“Do you want to send him to Ealdor?” Gaius finally asked cautiously.

“That’s what I want to discuss with you all,” Arthur replied.

“Let me get this straight,” Gwaine began to say, propping an elbow on the table. “Did you just tell Merlin that he’d never be a burden to you, only to prove it by getting rid of him and sending him to his mother?”

“It’s not that,” Arthur clarified, not surprised at all that Gwaine had been eavesdropping his conversation with Merlin. “It’s about what’s best for him. Let’s face it, none of us is an expert in babysitting.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary to be an expert to take care of a child,” Gwen quickly pointed out.

“I know, I just…” Arthur sighed. “He is a five-year-old, damn it. And he’s got a mother. Little children should always be able to be with their mothers.”

Everyone in the room kept quiet, assimilating his words. Arthur had never met his mother. Arthur had been a little child who had not been able to be with his mother.

“Sire…” Gaius began, tactfully. “These are wise words. But Merlin isn’t exactly a little boy. He’s your friend. And, if I know him as well as I think I do, I think the last thing he’d want right now is to be separated from you. It would be too cruel.”

“I-I don’t think so,” Arthur said, feeling wrongfooted. “Why would it be cruel?”

“Oh, come on, Arthur,” Gwen cut in, rolling her eyes. “Have you seen him? He only wanted to be with you today. This morning, the poor thing, he wouldn’t stop saying: Do you think Arthur is done with the meeting? I’m sure Arthur is waiting for me. Do you think Arthur would like me to pick some flowers for him too? ”

Arthur looked at her. He had not received any flowers. He stayed carefully silent, knowing that if he opened his mouth, it would be to ask why she had thought he would not like to receive flowers from Merlin. And it probably would not a very good idea to show his knights how much that little detail bothered him, because he himself did not know why, of all the things Gwen had said, that was the one he had fixated on.

“That’s true, Arthur,” Gwaine said, looking at him with a smile in his eyes. “Whose name was Merlin calling when Percival was making him feel like the king of the mountain? Who did he call for tonight when Gwen had already put him in bed? Not Gaius, not Gwen, not Lance, not me, not his mother. You, Arthur. I don’t think it’s that hard to see, princess. Though I’ll never understand why, Merlin only has eyes for you, and now that he’s a kid the story hasn’t changed. He needs you. You in particular.”

Arthur parted his lips, but he did not know what to say.

"Listen, I don't want to send him away," he finally managed to articulate. “I really don't want to. Selfishly, I'd love to be able to— But I have to think about what's best for him. Maybe Merlin was the target of the attack, and not me. It wouldn't make much sense, but we can't know for sure, can we? If that were the case, then he wouldn't be safe here. Hidden in Ealdor, he'd be safe until the antidote is ready.”

They all remained silent for a few moments, weighing his words.

“I think that's assuming too much,” Gwaine muttered, staring at his hands with a frown. “But if that were true, the attackers would have already achieved their goal. I don't think he'll get any more attacks. He'd be well protected here, I'd make sure no harm comes to him," he said fiercely. “It's just that... It’d be like abandoning him. I think we'd break his heart if we took him away from us. Even if it's to be with his mother and for his own sake. Merlin is stubborn. He wouldn't understand.”

Arthur stared at him and nodded. He knew Gwaine was right. He looked around in the search for more opinions. His gaze focused on Lancelot, who had remained silent so far. The knight stared back at him and, after a few seconds of cautious silence, he cleared his throat.

"I think Merlin would like to stay with you, Arthur," he said at last, addressing him with an unusual familiarity. “But that's just what I think. And, in my opinion, that's what we're missing. We're trying to make decisions that should correspond to Merlin. After all, he's still Merlin. Our friend. Why don't you ask him what he wants?”

And, as usual, Lancelot was absolutely right.

Chapter Text

He’d had strange dreams that night. Arthur could not remember what they had consisted of, but when he woke up, he still felt in his chest a lingering unease, an undefined fear. He stirred and sighed. Beyond his closed eyelids the world was too bright, so it could not be that early in the morning. But Merlin had not come to wake him up yet, and therefore staying in bed late in the morning was not Arthur’s fault. Arthur sank his head in the cushions and purred. If his useless manservant had failed to do his job once more, then Arthur planned to take advantage of the situation to stay in bed as much time as he could. He would just blame Merlin if he missed a council or an important meeting. Arthur knew that the previous day had been long and exhausting, even if he did not remember why, so, surely, he had earned the right to sleep a little longer.

And Arthur must have started dreaming again, because he thought he could hear Gaius’s voice arguing in angry whispers with someone. And he could hear a child’s voice answering to him too. Definitive proof that he was dreaming, because Arthur did not know any child, let alone a child with the freedom to enter his room. 

“Trust me, Gaius, I wake him like this every morning.” 

The high-pitched voice floated to Arthur’s ears muffled in the haze of dreams, and Arthur could have sworn that he knew that voice… 

“RISE AND SHINE, SIRE! UP AND AT’EM! LET’S HAVE YOU, LAZY DASY!”

“AAAH! What the hell!?”

Someone had pounced on him in a clear all-out attack, and now they were jumping on his chest and leaving him breathless. When Arthur’s eyes managed to focus on the intruder, Merlin’s smiling face appeared over him. A smiling face that looked smaller and more rounded than usual.

“ MERLIN ?”

“I’m sorry, Sire,” Gaius apologised, standing by the bed with a contrite expression on his face. “Merlin insisted on waking you up, just like every morning. He told me that he always did it this way. I told him it was not a good idea, but then, before I could stop him, he had slipped away and…”

The boy burst out laughing.

“It’s true, I always wake him up like this!” he giggled. “Tell him, Arthur! Okay, right, it’s not exactly like this. It’s like this, but without the jumping on the bed bit.”

Arthur just blinked. He could not stop looking at the child, trying to recover from the impression. How could he have forgotten…?

“Thank the gods,” he finally managed to mumble, “there are certain borders in the prince-servant relation not even you would dare cross.”

“Are you sure?” Merlin said cheekily, tousling Arthur’s hair.

“This is unbelievable,” Arthur complained, dropping his head on the pillow.

Merlin eyed him critically and then patted Arthur’s face.

“Mmmm, I have to shave you today.”

“Yes, sure,” Arthur said, getting him off. “Don’t worry, if I ever feel the need to die horribly, I’ll ask you to shave me. All things considered; it might be sooner than later.”

“Okay,” Merlin shrugged. “But before killing yourself… Breakfast!” he announced happily.

Arthur looked over Merlin’s shoulder. A disheartening tray with two pickled eggs, a small piece of cheese and a slice of stale bread awaited on the table.

“I prepared it myself,” the boy said, swelling his chest proudly.

“I can see that,” Arthur replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, Sire,” Gaius mouthed. 

“I am sorry too,” Arthur sighed.

***

Merlin’s presence, fluttering about as Arthur tried to swallow that awful breakfast, was as irritating as it was cheerful. Arthur couldn’t tell whether it bothered him or whether it made him very, very happy. Either way, it gave him a good opportunity to address a pending issue.

“Hey, Merlin, can you stop for a second? I have to ask you something,” he said, setting the tray aside.

The boy stopped messing around with Arthur’s clothes and trotted towards the table.

“Would you like to go to Ealdor, with your mum?”

Merlin’s face lit up, but before giving an answer his expression became thoughtful.

“Would you be coming too?” he asked.

Arthur pursed his lips.

“No. No, Merlin, I wouldn’t be able to join you. You know that my father is sick, and now that I must take on his responsibilities, I cannot leave Camelot that easily.”

Merlin nodded as the joy in his eyes started to fade little by little, but all his resolve stayed, untouched. 

“Then, no,” he decided, calmly. “I prefer to stay here, with you.”

“Are you sure? You know, I don’t need you.”

He regretted saying those words as soon as they escaped his lips. He imagined how they must have sounded like in Merlin’s ears, and the confirmation came soon. Tears promptly welled up in Merlin’s eyes, and the boy looked at him as if Arthur had slapped him. Arthur cursed mentally. He had never been good with words; he always had a hard time expressing what he really felt. And when it came to Merlin… With Merlin, he always screwed everything up. Always.

“No, Merlin, hey, listen to me. That’s not what I meant. What I mean is, I don’t want you to feel any kind of obligation toward me. Of course I need you. You are my friend, and I always like having you by my side. I’m just saying that, if you want them, I’m giving you a couple of days off, just like you wanted, to go see your mum. That’s all.”

The boy peered over his face with a frown, and then seemed to decide that Arthur was sincere, because his expression softened.

“Do you really prefer to stay here?” Arthur questioned carefully, using a soft tone.

“Yeah. But only if you want me to,” Merlin answered timidly.

“Of course. Of course I want you to stay. If that’s what you want…”

“That’s what I want,” he said without hesitation.

“It’s settled, then.” 

***

Arthur had forgotten how boring council meetings usually were. He only really enjoyed them when they had to do with military issues. In those occasions, more knights participated in the sessions, and Arthur felt in his element. He was good at commanding his army: reorganising defences, sending reconnaissance patrols, preparing battles… that he knew how to do. Discussing fees, taxes, budgets, crops, diplomacy… these were quite another matter. Arthur would have never chosen to take care of any of that. He had the soul of a soldier, not a politician. But he was a prince, almost a king, and he had no choice but to be both. Which meant having to attend endless meetings that usually were a complete waste of time, like the one he was suffering at the moment. 

The meeting that day was especially unbearable, and Arthur had a suspicion, verging on certainty, that it was because Merlin was not there to exchange with him exhausted, exasperated or amused glances, depending on the conversation. He had never been aware of how comforting, reassuring and cheerful the boy’s presence was. How come he had not noticed Merlin’s ability to light up an entire room with his mere presence? 

Whatever the case, the prince had lost track of the conversation within five minutes, and they had been there for at least two hours. Luckily, Arthur was an expert at pretending he was paying attention. It was easy. It only required an occasional head tilt, a friendly smile here and there and intervening from time to time to show agreement or disagreement. All the meetings were insufferably identical.

Arthur only knew that wanted to be in a different place. And with different people. 

“ Before concluding this council, My Lord, we would like to address one last issue. We have been told about the interest that Princess Mithian seems to have shown in you.”

“It is not our desire to seem disrespectful, but we believe it is our duty to point out that a permanent union between Camelot and Nemeth would be very convenient in order to strengthen our position as one of the five mightiest kingdoms of Albion and ensure the survival of Camelot.”

“We are sure that your father would bless such a union, and that it would make him very happy to see-- ”

“Thank you. Your opinion will be highly considered.”

Arthur had to make a great effort not to run out of there as soon as the council was over. When he got rid of the last of the nobles, he fled to his room to put on his chainmail so he could go join his knights for their training session. It was inconvenient, having to get dressed alone, and Arthur thought that he should probably find a replacement for Merlin. The idea was not thrilling though. He was not sure if he would be able to have a bootlicker around, helping him to put his armour on in a respectful and irritating silence. In a silence as devastating as the one which was suffocating him at that moment.

Arthur realised that he did not miss Merlin just because it was difficult to put on the armour on his own. He missed him because Merlin was the person who was always there when he was overwhelmed after a council, the person to whom Arthur unleashed his frustrations and the person who almost shared his duties as Prince Regent. Any other day, Merlin would be putting the armour on him and complaining about the audacity of those nobles who thought they had the right to have an opinion on Arthur’s personal life. And Merlin would have insulted them in a thousand different witty ways, shown him his support in kind words and cheered him up talking rubbish as usual. But that day Merlin was not there. And the undeniable contrast of that silence felt like a knife in his heart.

When he finally managed to get dressed on his own, he stormed out of his room ready to join his knights. He needed to hit something urgently. He rushed down the aisles with his blood boiling in his veins until he ran into Gwen, who was staring out one of the windows. It just took a look at her for his spirit to calm down.

“Guinevere,” he called, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Gwen turned to give him a bright smile and focused her gaze beyond the stained glass again.

“What are you looking at?” Arthur asked, placing his chin on the girl’s shoulder.

“Lancelot and Merlin sharing confidences, as usual,” she said, smiling. “Look at them.”

Arthur followed the direction of her gaze until he located Lancelot and Merlin in the gardens. They were sitting under the shadow of a large oak, away from the rest of the knights. Arthur frowned trying to figure out what they were doing. The boy seemed to have something in his hands, but from that distance Arthur could not tell if he was holding a branch, a flower or even a small animal. Whatever it was, Merlin was looking at it concentrated, as if he were trying to do something with it. Shortly after, he seemed to give up, because he dropped his hands and lowered his head in a downcast gesture.

“What are they doing?” Arthur muttered with a frown.

“I have no idea, but aren’t they the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen?” Gwen sighed as the knight wrapped an arm around Merlin in an attempt to comfort him. The boy merely rested his head on his shoulder, not hugging him back.

“No. You are the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen,” Arthur said, forcing himself to look away from them and fix his eyes on Gwen instead.

They looked at each other tenderly, and Gwen finally laughed and hugged him. Even with his nose buried in her hair, Arthur’s eyes looked out the window again and, to his alarm, he found that Merlin’s shoulders were shaking as if he were sobbing. 

“I’m sorry, Gwen, it’s training time, I must go,” Arthur apologised and, after kissing her goodbye on her cheek, he ran downstairs wondering worriedly whether Merlin would still be upset because of the conversation they had had that morning.

As he approached the oak, he found that Gwaine and Percival had already come to the rescue. Gwaine had Merlin sitting on his shoulders so that their combined heights matched Percival’s and had lent the boy his sword, and Merlin was giggling as he fought against a suspiciously clumsy Percival.

“Don’t you think that’s a little dangerous?” Arthur reproached, unable to hide a smile.

Gwaine looked up, searching for the boy’s eyes, and Merlin bowed his head to meet Gwaine’s.

“I believe, Sire,” Gwaine began to say casually, “that here, the only person in danger…”

“...is you!” Merlin completed. “Go get him!” he yelled, and Gwaine automatically darted forward with a wild cry to charge Arthur.

They all ended up rolling on the floor in a jumble of limbs and laughter.

“I’ll throw you both in the dungeons! I will!” Arthur laughed.

“Good. Then we won’t have to see your toad face,” Merlin teased, somehow managing to end up straddling him.

“Do you prefer the stocks?”

“Shut up, dollophead. I beat you.”

“You’d wish.”

“Gwaine? Have I beaten him or not?”

“It seemed like a clear victory to me,” the knight said with a shrug. 

Arthur sniggered and took Merlin off. He sat up with difficulty and shot Gwaine a grateful glance. No other knight would have dared to treat the prince with such little respect, but at that moment Arthur considered himself fortunate to count on Gwaine in his ranks, if that meant making Merlin laugh again. Gwaine nodded and patted Percival’s shoulder to indicate it was time to go. Lancelot followed them discreetly. 

“Would you like to have lunch with Gaius and me today?” Merlin asked, kneeling beside him.

“Let me guess… chicken?”

“I hope so,” he fervently said.

“I have to train first.”

“Okay. I’ll watch and cheer on you.”

“Really? You’ve never cheered on me before.”

Merlin shrugged and smiled at him.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, swelling his cheeks and pursing his lips with anticipated emotion.

“Of course.”

“I always cheer on you in my mind,” Merlin confessed, beaming. 

“Really?” Arthur replied. Merlin’s words felt like drinking a hot infusion in the middle of a cold winter night. 

“Really. I just don’t say anything to you because I don’t want your head to get even bigger.”

Arthur threw his head back and barked a joyful laugh.

“I think that’s not possible, what with having you around calling me an idiot in a thousand different ways and making up personalized insults for me.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Merlin said with a mischievous grin. 

And, despite how much Arthur enjoyed his training, and how much he had believed he needed it just a few minutes ago, it took him a great effort to get up and go join his knights. It was nice to be there with Merlin, just sitting together on the grass. 

***

“Rosemund told me she’s got your new clothes ready, Merlin,” Gwen announced while they were eating in Gaius’s rooms. “Fancy going to pick them up this afternoon?”

The boy shrugged and nodded all at once. Before focusing on his chicken stew again, his eyes flew and landed on Arthur for a millisecond. 

“Good news, finally,” Arthur said. “Those borrowed clothes are pretty depressing, don’t you think? Come on, eat up quickly so we can get the new ones as soon as possible.”

Merlin’s head jerked up, and the bright smile he gave him warmed Arthurs’ heart.

“Are you coming too?” he asked excitedly.

“Well, yes. I have nothing better to do. I can either go with you… or I can spend the rest of the day studying this month’s budgets. So, please, if you let me go with you… I’d really appreciate it.”

“Yes! Yes, of course. Don’t worry. I’ll save you.”

Arthur marvelled at how easy it was to make Merlin happy now that he was a kid. And he also thought about how little it had took him to understand what made him happy. Ever since the conversation with Merlin’s closest friends the previous afternoon, Arthur kept wondering if… Well, if Merlin normally enjoyed his company that much. If he was happy, just being by Arthur’s side.

Because, if he was honest to himself… Arthur was. Happy. Just being by Merlin’s side. 

***

Lancelot had offered to go in his place. 

“I will accompany Gwen and Merlin,” he said, convinced that he was doing him a favour. 

“No, Lancelot. I want to do it. Merlin is my servant and he is my responsibility.” 

“Arthur, we're all friends with Merlin, and we're happy to help.” 

“I know,” Arthur said, smiling at him. “But I don’t need your help now. I want to do it. I want to go and buy him some clothes. I feel like going with him. With him and with Gwen.”

“Sire,” Lancelot nodded, and Arthur may have imagined the faintest note of sadness that danced in his eyes for a brief moment.

***

Arthur had dressed in his incognito attire, which consisted of the blue cloak that Merlin had once lent him, and which Arthur had kept though he could not remember why. Probably because it was comfortable, because it was not that bad and because he did not have any other cloak that did not scream that he was the crowned prince. Either way, he was especially fond of that cloak. 

Merlin recognised it. 

“Ah! That’s the cloak I gave you,” he said delightedly, and Arthur noticed that he had not used the verb lend .

He looked at the boy, suddenly aware that Merlin probably didn't have many cloaks. The boy only had two or three shirts and a pair of neckerchiefs that he combined as well as he could. Now that he thought about it, it might have been rather inconsiderate to keep that cloak. And he felt especially bad now, seeing how glad Merlin was to see it again. 

“Yes. Huh... As soon as it fits you again, I’ll give it back to you,” he promised, though the idea of giving the cloak up left a strange knot in his stomach. 

“Ah, no, no.” The child shook his head vigorously. “It's a gift.” 

“You never said it was,” Arthur said, frowning. 

“Yeah… I didn't dare last time. But I'm telling you now: Hey, Arthur, it's a gift!” 

Arthur huffed a fond laugh at Merlin dimpled face, and then he processed what Merlin had said.

“Wait, what do you mean you didn't dare?” 

“I'm glad you liked it! I... I thought you wouldn't want servant's clothes. That's why I didn't tell you it was gift before. But I wanted to give it to you, really, ‘cause I thought it could come in handy. Like now.”

Arthur blinked, surprised, and the child’s words made three revelations blossom in his heart. Three truths unfolded before his eyes as if someone had taken him off a blindfold.

Firstly, Arthur understood how generous Merlin truly was. He had never seen him wearing a cloak. All things considered; he may not even have one anymore. Merlin had few things and yet, he had given him wholeheartedly one of his scarce belongings. Hell, when had Arthur ever gifted Merlin something, with all the useless things he had? 

Secondly, Merlin’s sincerity unarmed him. Arthur had always considered Merlin a rather transparent person. His servant’s feelings were always dancing over his face, perfectly readable for all who knew him well: he laughed when he felt like laughing, he cried if he needed to cry, and his expressive eyes were even more eloquent than him. Merlin was the most honest and trustworthy person Arthur knew. But Arthur also knew that the boy kept many things to himself. Sometimes, he would find in his eyes that inexplicable sadness Arthur would do anything to make disappear. That persistent and shifty sorrow was proof that many aspects of Merlin’s life were still a mystery to Arthur, and, well, one of Merlin’s traits of character was that he never ceased to surprise Arthur. That was the Merlin he knew: a bit mysterious, a bit unfathomable. But this five-year-old Merlin was slightly different. Without the filter of adulthood, and less aware than ever of the boundaries that should exist between a servant and a prince, Kid Merlin was touchingly sincere. He spoke from the heart in a way Arthur could never match.   

Thirdly… Thirdly, Arthur wondered, appalled, if he truly was such a brute, such an insensitive prat, that his best fri- servant thought that Arthur would not want to accept a gift from him. 

“I love it,” Arthur said hoarsely. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever been given.”

The boy beamed at him, all dimples and smiles and eyes reduced to bright half-moons. And Arthur swore to himself that he would find the way to match that gift. He would give Merlin his most valuable possession. Maybe… Maybe his mother’s sigil. Yes. Why not. 

“Come on, let’s get those clothes. And try not to get lost, okay?”

Streets bustled with activity, crowded by all kinds of people, and Arthur was feeling a bit overwhelmed. He was not used to being surrounded by so many people who were unaware of his identity and kept bumping into him with no consideration whatsoever; he was not used to that much not-wanted physical touch. Besides, watching Merlin carefreely skipping around among people who were twice his height was making him anxious. 

“Merlin!”

“Let him be, Arthur. He does no harm.”

That was not what bothered him.

“This place is full of people and he is tiny. If he gets distracted and we lose sight of him…”

“Merlin knows the lower town like the back of his hand, believe me. He won’t get lost.”

“Little children get lost!”

“Well, yesterday you explained to me that Merlin is not exactly a little child, remember?”

“Child or not, he is going to be the death of me,” Arthur grumbled.

Guinevere giggled.

“Don’t worry that much or he’ll start suspecting how much you actually care,” she whispered, and Arthur huffed. “Oh, look! Isn’t it beautiful?” she then exclaimed in awe, grasping Arthur’s arm and pointing at the multicoloured bird in a cage that a tradesman was showing to the passers-by. “He asks for twenty gold coins for it, poor thing. Birds aren’t born to live in a cage.”

“Nobody is born to live caged,” Arthur sighed, and looked at the animal with pity. It was beautiful indeed and, judging by its garish colours, probably from an exotic land. The closest thing he had seen in the surroundings of Camelot were merlins. Speaking of merlins… Where was Merlin? Merlin would like that bird, Arthur was sure of it, and, as he was a sensitive idiot, he would surely ask Arthur to buy the bird to free it. Arthur looked around, looking for the boy, only to see no trace of him. 

“Merlin?” he called, his heart picking an unhealthy pace. “Merlin!”

Nothing. The boy was nowhere to be seen. Reduced to a bundle of nerves, Arthur grabbed Gwen by the arm, and she looked around worriedly. 

“I can’t see him,” she said in a trembling voice.

They immediately dived into the crowd in the search for the child. 

“Have you seen a little boy in brown clothes, very scrawny and pale, with dark hair and blue eyes?” Arthur kept asking every person he came across, one step away from panicking.

“Don’t worry, Arthur, he cannot be far. He cannot be far,” Gwen repeated like a mantra. 

“What if someone's taken him? Some people do terrible things to children. If he’s been abducted…” 

Arthur was on the verge of tears. And it was ridiculous, because he had fought in countless battles and never once been overcome by fear. And it was irrational, because Merlin was probably distracted in any of the stands, unaware of Arthur’s concern. But the mere possibility that something bad had happened to him made his whole world reel. 

“Merlin!”

He had to look after Merlin, he was his responsibility, he had vowed to keep him safe, he was just a defenceless kid…

"Hey, you brat!” 

In one of the stands, a man who looked more like a bear than a man had a small boy grabbed by the collar of his cream-coloured shirt. 

“If I ever see you sniffing around my meat again, I’ll use you to make sausages!” he yelled, shaking him violently. 

Arthur did not have time to feel relieved.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he roared, freeing Merlin from the savage and placing him safely behind him. “Touch him again and I’ll kill you ,” he threatened, drawing his sword and resting its edge under the butcher’s chin.   

Gwen caught up with him and, after casting a disgusted look at the man, she protectively hugged Merlin. 

“Who do you think you are?” the man slurred, looking apprehensively at the sword.

“It’s not about who I think I am; it’s more about who you should know I am. I am Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot,” Arthur replied calmly, watching with satisfaction as the man’s eyes widened in terror. “And I can tell you that if you lay your hand on a child again, you’ll have to answer to me.”

At last, he looked away from the man to check on Merlin. He seemed a bit scared, but he was fine. Arthur scanned their surroundings, which were filling up with a curious crowd.

“Let’s get out of here,” he urged, grabbing the child’s hand. 

He walked him out of there at a brisk pace and he did not fail to notice that Merlin was shaking. It took him all his willpower not to return to the butcher’s stand and carve him like one of his pigs. 

“You’re going to kill me if you keep me scaring me like that,” he grunted.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin murmured, sniffing. “I wanted to get some food for that bird back there. Did you see it?” he asked, suddenly cheerful. “It’s orange and green and red...”

“That bird doesn’t eat meat!”

“I know that, I’m not an idiot. I was looking for the pigs’ food. They feed them fruit that’s rotten and things like that. I’m sure the bird would like that.”

“Maybe.”

“I was also trying to find a way to free it,” Merlin confessed, adopting a thoughtful expression.

“Ah, and what do you think the owner would do if he caught you? You’ve already seen the butcher.”

“And I’ve seen you too,” Merlin noticed, staring at him with a little smile. “If he caught me, you’d rescue me.”

“That’s assuming too much. If you try to free that bird and get caught, then you’ll have asked for it. You’ll have to manage on your own,” Arthur lied.

Merlin frowned.

“Well, I’ll take the risk,” he decided. “Birds are like dragons. They shouldn’t be caged, they have wings! They are born to fly free, freer than anyone else, high in the sky. It’s cruel to deny them that. It goes against their nature. I know it well.” 

Arthur stared at him bewildered, not knowing what to say. What a kid.

“Okay, listen. If you behave during the rest of the afternoon, I’ll buy the damn bird so you can free it. Deal?”

The boy’s face lit up in a beautiful ear to ear smile. 

“Thank you, Arthur, thank you, I love you! Let’s go quick, I don’t want anyone buying it first,” he said, reaching out with his other arm to take Gwen’s hand so he could pull both of them. 

“For that price, I doubt it,” Guinevere giggled, happily trotting to the boy’s other side. 

Arthur just followed them a little dizzy, trying to recover from the I love you that had just been engraved on his heart. 

***

Seeing Merlin with his habitual clothes adapted to his new size was quite shocking at first. There was hardly any difference between Adult Merlin and Kid Merlin apart from the height. His face was practically the same: the large and expressive eyes, the rounded cheekbones, the rosy lips that seemed drawn by an artist…

“Look at you, Merlin! You look the same as always!” Gwen applauded delightedly. 

…the sticking-out ears, the tousled and coal-black hair, the pale and thin neck, covered by his eternal neckerchief…

“It’s true,” Arthur admitted, looking at him. He had not been aware of how delicate his servant’s features were before, but it was so obvious now, seeing how little they had changed to fit in the face of a child.

“Great,” Merlin cheered, his high-pitched new voice being the feature that differed the most from his adult version. “Let’s rescue that bird now.”

How could two people who were so similar —who, in fact, were the same person— awaken such different feelings in him? That Merlin who was looking at him urgently, Arthur wanted to take him in his arms, make him laugh, hug him tight and tell him that he would never let anyone hurt him. But then, when Adult Merlin looked at him like that, Arthur sometimes felt things in his stomach, and his heart would flutter just a little. Arthur had a vague suspicion that these feelings were related to affection, if he even felt such a thing towards his best frie- servant , and he wondered if he loved Merlin —his Merlin— and the child —who was also his Merlin— differently, and what made these two kinds of affection different.

“Let’s rescue that bird,” echoed Gwen with equal resolve. 

Arthur looked at her with a smile, thinking of how much he loved and admired her, and how the love they shared was like a balm to his soul. With her everything was calm and sweet. Merlin, on the other hand, whatever his version, provoked in him feelings of another kind: intense, visceral feelings —of all or nothing, of black or white—, capable of changing the axis of his whole world. Crazy as it seemed, Arthur almost felt that his servant, now a child who gazed at him with infinite joy, could be the source of the truest of happiness, but also of the greatest desolation imaginable.

He’d better get back to normal soon, Arthur told himself, because this child was plaguing his life with doubts and distress, and he was going to be the death of him.

***

They climbed to the highest tower to free the bird, which Merlin had called Betty because, according to him, she was a female and looked like a Betty, whatever that meant. Arthur didn’t know how the hell Merlin could be so sure of the bird's sex and decided that he must have made it up, but he chose not to comment on it. So, without further delay, they stood behind the battlements and the boy opened the door of her cage, radiating a simple and contagious happiness. The bird spread her wings and hovered over them singing happily before taking off into the sunset. Contemplating that beautiful scene with Merlin and Guinevere at his side, Arthur thought that, had Merlin been his old Merlin, that feeling spreading in his chest would have almost resembled happiness. 

He delayed going back to the castle as long as he could, but Gwen had unfinished chores and Merlin had to have dinner so he could go to bed early, and Arthur had no choice but to go back to the real world, where Gwen had to leave to wash some sheets and he had to take Merlin to his guardian. The return route was inevitably past Uther's chambers, and Arthur realised remorsefully that he had not visited him in the last two days. He should do it soon, but definitely not right now…

“Arthur?”

His father's voice calling to him slipped through the open door, and Arthur mentally cursed.

"Merlin, stay here," he instructed the boy authoritatively. “It’ll only be a moment.”

Arthur entered his father’s chambers to find him staring out the window without seeing anything. Almost instantly, he heard Merlin's fluttering footsteps on his heels. He turned in resignation only to see that the boy had followed him and was staring at Uther with wide eyes and clear curiosity. Now that he thought about it, Arthur couldn't recall seeing his servant tending to the King since he was in that state; the task had fallen primarily to Gwen, who, since Morgana's departure, had no lady to serve. Arthur gave the boy a look that meant Merlin! in his most indignant tone of voice, and Merlin shrugged slightly, but was undaunted. However, after taking another look at the King, he grabbed the hem of Arthur's shirt for safety.

"Father," Arthur said, suppressing a sigh. “I'm here.”

The man probably wouldn't even notice the boy, Arthur told himself as he moved to his father's side. There was nothing to worry about.

"Hello, Uther!" said a high-pitched voice behind him, startling him.

The King's eyes slowly drifted around the room until they found Merlin, though, as usual, they didn't fixate on him.

"Who is this child?" he said, however, after a few seconds that seemed eternal.

Arthur racked his brain for an answer that would not unnecessarily upset the King.

"He looks like that servant you used to carry around," his father said wearily, turning his gaze back to the landscape beyond the mountains. “Is he your son?”

If Arthur had been drinking something, he would have spit it on his father. Luckily, that wasn't the case, so he just stared at him in astonishment, his ears burning. Behind him, Merlin giggled.

"No, father, he is—"

"Yes, I am his son," Merlin interrupted, stepping forward and looking at the King with amusement. “His and Merlin's, the servant he used to carry around,” he added maliciously, and Arthur choked on his own saliva. “He and Arthur were boyfriends and got married and had me while you were here being a vegetable.”

The room was extremely silent until Merlin wrapped up his mischief with a masterstroke.

"They had me using magic, of course."

Arthur felt the air rush out of his lungs. Uther's eyes moved again and, after what seemed like an eternity, they managed to fixate on his son's.

"Daddy Merlin says Papa Arthur got fat as a cow and—" Merlin stopped abruptly as Arthur's hand roughly covered his mouth.

"Ha, ha, ha," Arthur giggled nervously, feeling like his whole head was on fire. “Very funny. Don't mind him. He's a very naughty brat,” he explained, pinching Merlin on the cheek perhaps harder than necessary. “He's my servant's nephew, and apparently he’s just as insolent and rude as he is. I found him wandering around the castle and I was going to—”

He stopped when his father lost interest and retreated back into himself, staring blankly through the window. Arthur sighed and leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Rest, father."

He grabbed Merlin by the hand and pulled him out of the fancy room. When they were back in the hall, Merlin laughed uproariously.

“Merlin!” Arthur tried to scold him, but he hadn't  developed an immunity to the boy's infectious laughter yet, and he started laughing too.

"That wasn't good," he managed to say at last, drawing a frown. “My father is ill, and he must not be disturbed.”

"I know…" Merlin began, looking at the ground. “I’m sorry, Arthur. But I just thought it was so funny and...”

"What? Funny?” Arthur snorted, and felt himself flush again. “What was that nonsense? What the hell, Merlin? You and I being boyfriends and getting married and… and everything else? Where did you get that ridiculous idea?"

The boy shrugged and took his hand.

“I don't know.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Do you want us to be boyfriends when I grow up again?” He asked spontaneously.

Arthur stopped short, and the air left his lungs as if he had been punched in the stomach. A painfully weak huh? escaped his lips.

"Do you want us to be boyfriends when I grow up again?" Merlin repeated with utter nonchalance.

"Ah. That. Ah.” Arthur couldn't help but babble stupidly. 

What was wrong with him? But, for heaven's sake, how did Merlin come up with something like that? 

“Would you like that?” He heard himself say at last, not knowing why, of all the things he could have said, he had chosen to ask that, and he cursed how ridiculously high his voice had come out.

Merlin released his hand to scratch his head and scowl at him, as if weighing the possibility.

"I don't know," he said at last. “I've never had a boyfriend.” He frowned again. “I once had a girlfriend,” he reported joyfully, and Arthur opened his mouth again, suddenly turned into something akin to a stupid fish. “But you killed her.”

That made no sense and was simply impossible, so Arthur convinced himself that the boy was just joking or making up stories. Still, he couldn't keep a chill of icy horror from running down his spine.

"I did what," he mumbled.

"You killed her. Like this, with your sword,” the boy said, mimicking a stabbing on his stomach. He looked sad all of a sudden. “But you didn't know who she really was, so I didn't get mad at you. But I did get very, very sad. I had to take her to a lake and she died and I had her funeral alone and I cried a lot. You thought I was sad just because you had thrown water over me.” The boy chuckled. “You're always so stupid! You don't know anything.” He sighed then. “It made me very sad that she died. But you know what? If you died, I’d be even more sad. I’d be very very very very sad. Like, downright sad. But don't worry, okay? Nothing bad will ever happen to you because I protect you. So, do you want to be my boyfriend when I grow up again?”

Arthur was too confused to think clearly, and his mind only managed to process the last question satisfactorily, so he foolishly replied:

"But I already have a girlfriend. Guinevere. Remember?"

"Oh yeah!" The boy said, slapping his forehead. "It's true," he added, visibly disappointed. "Well, it's okay,” he decided, shaking his hand again. "Gwen is great. At first she wanted to be my girlfriend too. And she kissed me on the lips once." Merlin laughed and stuck out his tongue in disgust. "But I pretended I didn't know she liked me because I didn't like her like that and because I was actually waiting for you to ask me out. Then I asked Freya out myself because you already liked Gwen and I knew you’d never ask me out."

Too much information. Too much. Arthur wished the rejuvenating curse had hit him. He wished someone would show up and cast a deafening curse on him. Or leave him in a vegetative state like his father. Yes, that would be nice.

"Maybe I should have said yes to Gwen. Then you wouldn’t have a girlfriend. It would be nice if you didn't have a girlfriend. What's for dinner?"

"Hmm. Hmm?

"What's for dinner? I want chicken. Can I have chicken for dinner?"

"Yes. Chicken. Chicken for dinner. Lots of chicken. All the chicken you want."

"With onion and carrots?"

"With onion and carrots."

"Yummy."

"Though, now that I think about it…" Arthur forced himself to focus. "Cook said that the one we had for lunch was the last. I think you've wiped out every chicken stock in the kingdom."

"I'm sure there'll be some chickens left," Merlin said, convinced.

And, to the surprise of the cook herself, he was right. At Arthur's insistence, the woman entered the pantry ready to show them that there was no chicken left only to reappear with five fresh chickens and a scared face.

"I think she's been at the cider," Arthur said to Merlin, who couldn't stop laughing.

***

That night Arthur did not sleep. He couldn't stop turning over all that nonsense that Merlin had blurted out casually. He had said that Arthur had killed his girlfriend, but Arthur did not recall Merlin ever having a girlfriend, and he knew with certainty that he had never killed a woman. And yet the possibility that this was true, that someone special to Merlin had died at his hands, was terrible. And even more terrible would be that, after that, Merlin had stayed by his side and still loved him just the same. And he loved Arthur quite a bit, apparently. Merlin loved him.

That was the second thought that tormented Arthur. Kid Merlin apparently would have wanted to be his boyfriend ? Did that mean that Adult Merlin also saw him that way? For some reason, that possibility made Arthur’s heart race, and not because he disliked the idea precisely. In a way, it thrilled him. Odd, right? He had Gwen. He loved Gwen. And yes, well, he loved Merlin too, and found him ridiculously cute with his lanky figure, perky ears, delicate features, and glowing smile. And maybe his stomach fluttered with joy when he saw his smiling face first thing in the morning every day. And he couldn't deny that now he missed him so desperately that it hurt. But that didn't mean anything, right? Right? No, it couldn't mean anything. Although the image of him and Merlin courting, dating, being something of a couple —and maybe living happily ever after on a farm away from everything else— had kept creeping into his mind since the boy had planted it there so lightly.

Arthur groaned and covered his head with his pillow. 

Damn Merlin and his painful honesty. That child was going to be the death of him.

Chapter Text

Arthur had made sure the night before that Merlin wouldn’t come to wake him up this time, and he was really grateful, because he had hardly slept at all and was in no mood for brusque awakenings. And yet he found the impersonal courtesy of the servant who came to open the curtains and serve him an exaggerated breakfast quite irritating, so he dismissed the boy as soon as possible, refusing his assistance to dress. After eating a couple of pieces of fruit and one of the multiple cakes, Arthur stepped behind the changing screen to get dressed, not paying much attention to what he was doing. When he had already undressed, he realised that he had no fresh clothes within reach. Brilliant. He was so used to Merlin handing them through the screen that he hadn't even thought to put the clothes there before starting to dress. With a resigned sigh, Arthur stepped out from behind the screen as naked as he came into the world.

"Woah! Your dick is huge!”

Arthur stopped short with a start and, in his utter, horrified embarrassment, he just stood there frozen, staring at Merlin without even managing to cover his private parts. Impossibly, the child was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his chambers, with Arthur's clean clothes crumpled on his lap and his face full of cream and strawberry stains. Arthur was pretty sure that less than a minute ago there was no one there.

"I didn't remember it being that big," Merlin commented, looking him up and down critically. “Here, I've got your clothes ready,” he pointed out, handing them over without even bothering to stand up. “I have to tell Gwen.” He giggled mischievously, causing Arthur's face to turn as red as the shirt Merlin was handing him. “And Gwaine too. I don't know why, but Gwaine is always flaunting the size of his dick. Isn’t he mad? But it sure can't be any bigger than yours. Or maybe yours is not that big, and it only looks big to me because I'm smaller now, like it happened with Percival. Not with his dick! I haven’t seen it! I mean, his body is big! But, well, his dick must be big too?”

“MERLIN!” Arthur exploded, red as a strawberry and covering himself as best he could.

“What! I've seen you naked a thousand times before, you don't have to be like that,” Merlin protested, standing up to grab a handful of raspberries and shove them all into his mouth. “Fake youf clofes” he said, handing Arthur the clean clothes with his hands full of pink juice. “You’ll avive lafe."

Arthur was about to kill him when the door to his room swung open, revealing a harassed Gaius.

"Sire!" He greeted, looking away quickly, embarrassed. “My apologies, he escaped me, I don't know how he did it... "

“TAKE HIM OUT OF HERE!"

“Of course. MERLIN. Come here right now!”

“No! I still have to dress him!" Merlin whined as Gaius tried to drag him out of Arthur's chambers. “Seriously, he doesn't know how to dress himself! Tell him, Arthur!”

“Get. Out. Of. Here.”

“Arthur!” Merlin whimpered. “It was a joke, I won't tell anyone about your dick, I promise!”

Gaius winced, although he had the decency not to comment on it and especially not to look.

Arthur felt like dying.

***

Luckily that morning there was no council, no hearings, nor anything like that, so Arthur took refuge in training, using it as an escape route to channel all his frustrations. Gaius was leaving that afternoon, and Arthur was already freaking out. Merlin got on his nerves.

"He's precious, isn’t he?" Gwen sighed next to him later, as they watched Merlin play with the knights.

Arthur had excused himself, because he was still angry and upset and embarrassed and he just didn't feel like playing with Merlin.

"He’s devilish," Arthur corrected. “Trust me. All that? Appearances, nothing more.”

Elyan had forged a small blunt sword for Merlin, and the boy laughed trying to fight the knights with as little skill as usual. Even so, the knights were losing —hopefully deliberately—, and Arthur wondered if they had spent the night in the tavern, because they were especially clumsy that morning, too. Arthur had seen them each fall at least four times, and he didn't think they were doing it on purpose all the time. Merlin laughed and laughed, and jumped on the fallen knights, and exchanged smiles and knowing glances with Lancelot, and Arthur wanted to die.

"How can you say that?” Gwen shoved him. “Merlin is anything but devilish. He’s the purest, most innocent soul ever,” she said with conviction.

"Look, Merlin’s never had too many filters, but since he’s a child, he has none whatsoever. You don’t know what it’s like. It's an absolute nightmare. He doesn’t keep anything to himself, he just goes and says the very first thing that comes to his mind, and it’s exhausting .”

"Well, I think that’s very sweet," Gwen smiled.

"Yes, but then again, sweet things can easily make you feel sick."

"Arthur!" Gwen laughed, punching him on the arm.

Then she became serious and looked at him biting her lip, as if weighing an idea.

"You know… I've been thinking… If he stayed like this forever, gods forbid… I don't know, maybe… If he wanted to stay here, or his mother was too old to take care of him… I’d thought that maybe we could adopt him.”

“ Adopt him?! ” 

Arthur wanted to die there and at that moment. The earth could swallow him up, and it would do him a great favor. If Morgana showed up at that moment to cast a deadly curse on him, he would be eternally grateful. It was simply unthinkable, it was wrong, very wrong, Merlin could not be his son and Arthur could not be his father, just the mere idea made him sick, very sick, and in fact he could feel the bile already escalating his throat...

"Why not? He's our friend, and he needs us, and…”

“No! No way, no. No. It's Merlin, for heaven's sake! It's... It would be wrong on so many levels!”

"Because he was your servant?" she questioned, crossing her arms and visibly offended.

“No! Because I l—”

He was interrupted by the sound of a muffled thump followed by a groan. Arthur jumped up and turned quickly to try to locate Merlin. The boy had climbed on one of the low walls and, thanks to his habitual total lack of agility, he had tripped and fallen from a considerable height for a boy his stature. In an instant the five knights had come to his help and they were now crouched around him, trying to assess the damage and comfort the child, unaware that they were overwhelming him despite it being obvious to Arthur: the boy was flinching, avoiding all contact, and breathing heavily. Swearing, Arthur pushed his way through his men.

Merlin raised his head to look at him as soon as Arthur stood in front of him. His eyes were full of tears and his face was congested in a clear attempt not to spill any, and yet something in him seemed to relax at the sight of Arthur. Automatically all the weariness, irritation and nervousness evaporated from Arthur's heart, giving way instead to boundless tenderness. He crouched down in front of Merlin and gently checked his legs and arms. He only discovered bruises and superficial wounds on his knees and forearms.

"You’re alright," he said to the boy with a smile. “Just a few scratches.”

Merlin nodded tight-lipped in a show of fortitude, but when Arthur made a move to stand up, his right hand flew out and clutched Arthur's tightly.

"It hurts a little," he said in a weak voice.

“I know. You are very brave.”

"I'm not crying," Merlin said through clenched teeth, even though two big tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“I know. But if you want to cry, it's okay too." 

The boy glared disbelievingly at him and, honestly, Arthur could not blame him, what with 'no man is worth your tears' and 'don't be such a girl' and all those stupid things Arthur blurted out from time to time because he didn't know better. But the kid didn't deserve to deal with Arthur's total lack of emotional intelligence. 

"Okay, I'll tell you a secret," Arthur said conspiratorially, lowering his voice. "One that only the wisest men know."

That made Merlin laugh.

"You are not wise!"

Arthur feigned indignation.

"Excuse you! I am very wise. And handsome."

"Pff. You wish."

Arthur crossed his arms.

"Do you want to hear the secret or not?"

Merlin wiped away a rebellious tear. 

"Okay."

Arthur gave him a sympathetic smile and whispered:

"Most of the time, crying shows bravery too.”

“Really?”

“I really think so," Arthur said softly. "I've seen you cry a few times, and you still are the bravest person I've ever met.”

Merlin smiled at him.

"Okay. But I always try not to cry in front of you ‘cause I don't want to make you sad," he confessed, wiping his nose.

Arthur looked at him, fondness overflowing from every pore on his skin.

"Come on, let’s take you to Gaius before he leaves."

"Okay," Merlin agreed, raising his arms for Arthur to help him up.

Arthur took them, but to lift him into his arms, and it was so easy; Merlin was as light as the bird he was named after.

"Come on then," Arthur said happily, holding Merlin tightly, and the boy hugged him back automatically.

He needs you. You in particular . Gwaine's words reverberated in Arthur's mind, and the prince vowed to never forget them.

***

Gaius left in the afternoon, after a lunch that consisted, for a change, of chicken.

“Again? You'll grow wings!” Arthur chuckled.

“Like a dragon! That would be great!” Merlin cried out with a  wide grin, and then pretended he was speaking in another language.

Gaius winced as Arthur looked at the boy curiously.

"It's the language of dragons," Merlin explained smugly, and Arthur laughed in surprise, admiring the great imagination Merlin displayed now that he was a child.

Elyan and Percival teamed up to escort Gaius. Elyan was the fastest rider, and once they had the location where the ritual would take place, he would return to Camelot to report back to Arthur. Percival, the knight with the most commanding presence, would remain with Gaius. His polite manners would also be an advantage in gaining the Druids' trust.

Leon, Gwaine and Lancelot stayed in Camelot. Arthur saw fit to keep Merlin's closest friends close to him, and having sir Leon by his side gave him a reassurance he really needed; after all, he was his most trusted man after Merlin.

Merlin was saddened to see Gaius go, and unfortunately Arthur was unable to spend the afternoon with him, because his schedule was full of obligations. He made sure Gwen, Lancelot, and Gwaine had the evening off so they could spend it with the boy while he attended his duties as Prince Regent. He had to act as judge to settle a dispute between two brothers, supervise the progress of the works to rebuild a damaged area of the wall and receive two nobles who were passing through Camelot on their way to Mercia. And to make matters worse, when he was finally able to retire to his chambers, accumulated tasks awaited him there: reading the correspondence and answering it, reviewing the state of the royal arcs, and writing a speech for the ceremony of the guilds that would take place the following week. Arthur knew that he would only have time to attend to correspondence, so he got on with it without much enthusiasm.

The first letter he read brought hopeful news. His uncle Agravaine communicated his intention to visit Camelot in the near future and, aware of his new position as regent, offered his help as a counselor. Arthur really needed people he could trust by his side, so having a family member in the council would be a relief. Or so he hoped.

The second letter was another matter entirely.

"This is unbelievable," Arthur snapped, holding up the letter in outrage. “So apparently it’s been almost a year since a joust was last held in Camelot, and that is an offense to King Alined because he cannot prove the worth of his knights? Well then, why don’t you organise it yourself, you piece of...!”

Arthur fell silent only to be met by more silence and he flinched. It was strange having to do all of this on his own, without Merlin's help, support, ideas, and advice. He had never realised how much Merlin actually did for him; they practically ruled Camelot together. His servant was helping him build his own kingdom stone by stone, always in the shadows, never seeking recognition. His dedication to Camelot and to Arthur far exceeded the one expected from a servant, and even the one expected from a knight. It went far beyond the line of duty, it went far beyond any rational line. 

But that was not news: Merlin was simply there, always there, constant, unfaltering. Even when Arthur had believed he had nothing and no one left, he still could count on Merlin. He could always count on Merlin.

And, suddenly, it was just so clear that it no longer made any sense to try to deny it: Merlin was much more than his servant. He was his friend. His best friend.

Only that? Arthur couldn't help but think of Gwen, and what Merlin was to her. Merlin was also her best friend, Arthur knew that well, but apparently she had no problem seeing him as a potential family member. She would even be willing to raise him as a son if necessary. Arthur suspected that, to Gwen, Merlin was something of a brother. But that wasn't his case, Arthur was pretty sure of it. His feelings for Merlin weren't brotherly, and he knew it because the possibility of Merlin seeing him as a brother upsetted him deeply. And it wasn't because he didn't love him as much as a brother. It was just… He loved him in a different way. What was that way... was another question.

Then Arthur remembered with some relief that Merlin didn't seem to see him as a potential brother or father either. Merlin, in fact, had casually asked him to be his boyfriend . And, as ridiculous and impossible as it was, Arthur had not disliked the idea. Hell, he did not dislike the idea. So, the thought of Merlin being his brother horrified him, but the thought of having a romantic relationship with him seemed acceptable to him. What the hell did that mean?

As a mental exercise, Arthur tried to imagine himself in romantic relationships with all the people he knew, and one by one, he discarded all the possibilities, disgusted. All but two: Gwen… and Merlin. And the truth was that his imagination had gladly plunged into the fantasy involving the second, filling it with details that had made his heart pound madly. It wasn't a matter of imagining crazy or hypothetical situations, then. There was really something special going on with Merlin. If it weren't impossible, Arthur would think that… Was it possible that…?

The door to his chambers slammed open, startling him and interrupting the course of his thoughts. Merlin stumbled through it, carrying two buckets of water which seemed about to overflow, judging by the way Merlin lurched dangerously. 

"Merlin? What the hell are you doing?" Arthur asked, instantly forgetting about everything else.

The boy sent him an annoyed look.

"I think it's pretty obvious," he muttered, and continued to move across the room.

Arthur got to his feet and reached over to take the buckets, which were clearly too heavy for Merlin. The boy refused his help by stubbornly shaking his head and pushing him away with one shoulder.

"I'm going to prepare you a bath," he hissed, swaying toward the tub.

"Merlin, you don't have to."

"Of course I have to. I'm your servant," he said aggressively as he emptied the buckets into the tub, leaving Arthur puzzled.

Without a word, Merlin spun on his heels to clearly go to fetch more water, and Arthur caught a glimpse of worrying red in his eyes. He tried to hold him back by grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Merlin…?" he began, his heart sinking.

The boy freed himself from his hands, not even sparing a glance at him, and ran out of the room to return a couple of minutes later with the buckets again full. As expected, the boy, who could barely carry all that weight, tripped over his own feet and the water ended up spilling all over the floor.

"Merlin!"

Arthur was unable to get angry with him though, because the boy jumped up and, shaking from head to toe, gave a frustrated kick to one of the buckets.

"I'm useless!"

Arthur approached him slowly and looked at him worriedly.

"Merlin?"

"I'll fix this," the boy murmured, avoiding his gaze. “I'm cleaning it right now and— ”

“Merlin. Look at me.”

At last, Merlin raised his head and fixed Arthur with a defiant look. His eyes were indeed red-rimmed, as if he had been crying. 

"What's wrong?"

Merlin shook his head stubbornly and looked away again. Arthur couldn't take it anymore. Without breathing a word, he pulled Merlin into a hug. The boy did not oppose resistance; he buried his face in Arthur's stomach and clutched his shirt tightly. Arthur cradled him as Merlin silently trembled in his arms. He wasn't crying, though; he was just trembling, and Arthur would have given his entire kingdom to find a way to comfort him.

“Are you sad about Gaius leaving?" he finally ventured when the boy had calmed down a bit.

Merlin shook his head, and Arthur felt his little nose rubbing his belly.

"No, it's not that," he murmured.

"What is it then?"

The boy shook his head again and said nothing more. Arthur sighed and tried another strategy.

"What have you done this evening?"

Merlin's hands loosened until they let go of his shirt. Slowly the boy pulled away from Arthur so that he could look at him.

"Alright, I’ll start," Arthur decided. "You see, I had to act as a judge in a very boring case of two brothers fighting over their father’s inheritage. Seriously, how difficult is it to divide a land in two halves?” Arthur scoffed.  “Then I had to watch a lot of stonemasons laying a pile of boring stones, and to finish I had to welcome two boring nobles. Well, not to finish exactly, because now I've had to read the correspondence, and…”

"I like reading your letters," Merlin muttered, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"Yes, well, maybe you’d have liked my uncle Agravaine's letter. He may move to Camelot, what do you think?”

The boy shrugged.

"Yeah, me too," Arthur agreed. “Oh, but, you’d have absolutely loved this one,” Arthur said with a sarcastic grin, waving Alined’s letter. “It’s from Alined. Can you believe? That moron thinks that I don't celebrate enough jousts.” He let out a bitter chuckle. “I think he’s just angry because I don't offer him opportunities to kill me more often.”

At last, Merlin laughed, just a little bit.

"If that one dares to come to Camelot again, I'll kick his arse," he stated much to Arthur's delight.

"Well, do it if you want him to feed you to his lions."

“He has lions?" Merlin asked, his eyes widening.

"Oh yeah, I’ve never told you before? He has a male and a female and he treats them as if they were puppies. And spoils them as if they were his children. Imagine, he feeds them the most succulent criminals.”

"Hmm. They’d end up hungry if I was their meal," Merlin laughed.

"You’d be the starters. I’d be the main course.”

"You? You’d make them sick! Bad meat, you know, full of fat, and…”

"Hey, you, that's enough!"

Merlin's mischievous laughter sounded like music in Arthur’s ears.

"What about you? What have you done this evening?" Arthur asked again, brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes.

"I went for a ride with Gwaine and Lancelot," Merlin reported cheerfully. “There were no horses of my size, so I had to go on Gwaine's, and he chose the biggest one, and we galloped as fast as possible, and we beat Lancelot."

"The biggest one…? Did you ride Hengroen?! It's my horse!” Arthur protested.

"That's why Gwaine chose him," Merlin told him with a smug grin. “He thought it would annoy you.”

"Ah, well, mission accomplished," Arthur growled, folding his arms.

"He's the best horse," Merlin explained. “And Gwaine said I deserved the best.”

"Ah. Right then. I guess,” Arthur mumbled, somewhat annoyed. “And where did you go?”

“We went to a meadow near a stream that Gwaine knew. We lay in the sun and Gwaine fell asleep and I stayed with Lancelot.”

The light Merlin's eyes slowly dimmed again. Arthur realised uneasily that the two times Merlin had spent time alone with Lancelot he had ended up this sad.

"Merlin…" he began softly. “Did Lancelot say something that upset you?”

Merlin's eyes widened and he laughed in disbelief.

“What? No! Of course not!” he said, surprised. “No, no, quite the opposite. Lance is the only one who really knows me. He's the only one who understands me. He's just trying to help.”

Arthur tried to ignore the icy breeze that tore right through his heart, but failed.

"The only one..." he murmured. “And how…” He cleared his throat. “And how does he try to help you?”

"He cheers on me as I try to do the things I could do before," Merlin replied, focusing again on the puddle.

Arthur watched him remove his neckerchief to try to wipe up the spilled water. It was like trying to soak up the sea with a sponge.

"Shit, Merlin, leave that, will you?” he urged him. “What things do you mean?” he added. 

Merlin ignored him and kept fighting the offending puddle.

"Magical things," he said distractedly, looking around for a rag.

"Magical things?" Arthur echoed, slightly alarmed.

Merlin shot him a fleeting glance.

"Just these easy things I could do before,” he explained. “Like... like lighting a fire. Or juggling. Or controlling animals. Or finding the way.”

Arthur relaxed and looked at him empathetically.

"I can't do these things anymore," Merlin muttered, crestfallen. “And that means I can't do more difficult things either. Like looking after you.”

Arthur felt his heart melt. He didn't know what to say. Merlin was the one who used to cheer him up; no one had prepared Arthur for this sudden role reversal.

"Merlin…" he began, not knowing how to continue.

"I'll ask Gwen to help me clean up this mess," the boy decided, standing up resolutely. He sounded too serious, too adult, and Arthur didn't like it.

"Do you… do you want chicken for dinner?" Arthur offered.

The boy thought about it and finally shook his head,

"No... I think I’d better have a vegetable broth today."

Arthur knew that was not a very good sign.

"Do you want me to invite Gwaine to dine with us?" he suggested, not without effort.

Merlin considered the possibility and finally nodded with a renewed —even if weak— glint in his eyes. Arthur sighed inwardly. He would put up with Gwaine and whatever it took, if that brought that genuine sparkle back into Merlin's eyes.

***

Dinner was very frugal, but Gwaine's good humor quickly rubbed off on Merlin and cheered everyone up. Gwen was there too, all sweet smiles and heartfelt laughs. The girl had appeared with the vegetable broth and a smile brighter than the sun, and Arthur had thought she was a blessing in human form. The two were chatting happily with Merlin and Arthur gladly delegated to them, because he was exhausted. He could barely focus on the food as his brain boiled.

"You're very quiet," Gwaine observed late in the evening. “Something in your head?”

Something? Everything. Ideas, problems, issues, all gathering and moving around, making it impossible for Arthur to focus on just one of them. He only had worries piling up and no way to deal with them.

“No. Everything's fine. I'm just tired, ” he said instead.

"Oh! You need to rest!” Merlin said, getting to his feet. “Come on, I'll prepare your bed.”

“What? No!” Arthur laughed. “No, you are the one going to bed. And I'm the one who is going to prepare it for you.”

“No! No, no way!” Merlin complained.

Arthur got up and picked him up like a sack of flour.

"No complaining. Be good.”

Gwaine and Gwen were going to stay overnight in Gaius's chambers, and Arthur had decided that at least he would be the one to tuck him into bed and say good night.

"But Arthur…" Merlin protested from behind him.

"Hey, you do this for me every day. Let me do it for you today. Take advantage. How many servants in the history of servants do you think have had a prince preparing their bed?”

"No prince in the history of princes has been foolish enough to behave like a servant and treat his servant like a prince."

"Sorry, I got lost in the middle of the sentence."

"That's because you're a prat."

"And you’re a dollophead."

"That's my word."

“And you know it suits you perfectly.”

Arthur dropped Merlin onto the bed, and handed him the shirt he wore to sleep on. It was one of his old ones, so now it looked like a nightgown. Merlin reluctantly undressed, and Arthur waited patiently for him to get into bed.

"There, you can go now," Merlin grumbled, covering himself up to his chin.

"Oh. You don't want me to stay with you for a while?" Arthur asked with an intentional note of sadness in his voice.

"No… It's not that," Merlin said, looking at him crestfallen. “But you shouldn't be here. You don't like these things.”

“These things?”

“Spending time here. You know…” he said vaguely, not daring to be more specific. Not daring to say with me .

But Arthur understood.

“Who says that?”

“You.”

“Me? I don't remember ever saying that I don’t like spending time with you.”

"But you think it's uncomfortable. This. It’s… odd.”

"Nonsense. If I didn't want to be here with you now, you idiot, I wouldn't be. Can't you see that Gwaine and Gwen are out there, the two of them fighting over who gets to spend more time with you? Luckily, I am the prince and the best privileges are reserved for me.”

“Ah. Okay.” Merlin's eyes shone brighter. “It’s just… They are the ones staying here tonight, so I thought…”

“Yes, and I'm sorry about that, but you know how nobles are. If they were to find out that I slept in the physician's chambers to take care of my servant…” Merlin nodded, resigned. “If I were already king, I wouldn’t give a damn about their opinion. But I still need to be on good terms with them. Do you understand?”

“Yes. It’s just… I'd rather… It doesn't matter,” Merlin sighed.

Arthur looked at him with pursed lips. He wished he could tell him that he needed some space for a little while because Arthur was a mess. And that Merlin was not to blame for anything.

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” he suddenly proposed.

“What? No!” Merlin laughed. “That would be weird.”

“Yeah, right?”

"Besides, you don't know any stories."

“Who says I don't?”

"Arthur, you don't know any story."

“Yes, you smarty-pants. I know lots of stories.”

“Sure.”

“I do! I do... know a few.”

“No, you don’t.”

"Alright, I only know one."

“Oh yeah? Let's see!”

Arthur took a deep breath in a very dignified and smug way.

“Once upon a time there was a very handsome and very strong and very intelligent prince named Arthur.”

"Arthur!" Merlin laughed.

“And Arthur was very happy, until one day, while he was playing with his friends, a horrible, stinky peasant showed up and told him that he had already had enough fun.”

Merlin laughed again, and slapped him on the arm.

"Can you believe? Poor Arthur was so happy, minding his own business and playing innocently, and that fool had to come to ruin all the fun. Oh, and you see, things got worse. Because that bumpkin, whose name was Merlin, kept disrespecting him, even though he knew Arthur was a prince. Arthur hadn't never met anyone like him, but he thought he’d get rid of him and things would go back to normal. He was sooo mistaken. Because the stupid peasant had to save Arthur's life in front of all Camelot. And poor Arthur's father had the brilliant idea of making him his manservant." Merlin giggled and Arthur smiled. "From that moment on, Merlin became the worst servant in the history of servants, and also the best friend Arthur had ever dreamed of having.”

Merlin smiled placidly and leaned back against the pillow.

"Are you enjoying the story?" Arthur asked with a grin.

"I liked that last part, but you're telling it wrong," Merlin said, still smiling. “Hey, could you...? Could you invent it and say that the servant has magic and only uses it to do good things because he is good? And that he keeps it a secret because in Camelot magic is forbidden, but the prat prince is a disaster so Merlin has to use his magic to save his royal backside over and over again and yet the prat prince never notices?"

"Wow, what an imagination," Arthur whistled, laughing. “Are you sure you want me to tell that story? If Merlin were a sorcerer, then he'd have to play the bad guy in the story.”

"No, this Merlin would be a good sorcerer," Merlin said with great conviction. “If I were a sorcerer, I’d be good. Even if I were the most powerful one, I’d still be good. I’d always be good. Wouldn’t I, Arthur?” he said anxiously.

Arthur looked at him with a smile.

"Do you think that if I were a sorcerer, I’d be bad?" Merlin insisted, clearly troubled.

Arthur ran a hand through the boy's hair.

“No. I think you could never be bad,” Arthur said at last, looking at him fondly.

Merlin relaxed and smiled from ear to ear.

“Cool. Then I want Merlin to be a super powerful and good sorcerer who always saves the prince's arse while he's too busy being a prat to notice."

"And why'd the good sorcerer save the prince, if he's that bad?"

Merlin scowled at him.

"The prince is not that bad! He's destined to be a great king and he is funny and brave and Merlin loves him very much."

Arthur chuckled fondly, his heart melting inside his chest.

“Hey, you can tell the story yourself if you want," he offered softly.

"No," Merlin said, yawning. “I want... I want you to tell it for me this time.”

And, as tired as he was, Arthur told Merlin the story as best he could.

Chapter Text

Arthur woke up one more day in that new reality post-parvum Merlin , as he had begun to call it mentally. It was becoming routine for him to get up, put up with a servant named George? as best he could, attend to his duties as prince regent and think about Merlin all the time. He thought about Merlin in his current situation, about the Merlin he was before —the Merlin he truly was, his Merlin— about everything he was discovering about Merlin, about everything he was discovering about himself and his feelings for Merlin. Merlin, Merlin, Merlin. Everything was Merlin.

The boy did not appear suddenly in his room that morning, and Arthur missed him. That morning he saw no sign of him during his routine duties in different parts of the castle, and Arthur missed him. That morning no one even mentioned Merlin's name, and Arthur missed it.

So, as soon as he was released from his obligations, his steps were directed by inertia to Gaius’s tower. At the physician’s chambers he only found Gwen.

"Guinevere," Arthur greeted.

She jumped up like a spring as soon as she saw him.

"Arthur, it's a good thing you're here."

“What happened? Where is Merlin?” asked the anxious version of Arthur that had come to light since his servant had suffered the strange accident.

"Don’t worry, he’s okay. I think. I mean, it’s nothing too worrying, but...” she tried to reassure him without much success, given the concern in her eyes. “He's in his room,” she added, pointing to the closed door behind her. “He hasn't wanted to go out all morning. Nor has he let me pass. He's just there... Locked up and alone.”

“All right. Don't worry. I'll try to talk to him,”Arthur decided, taking a deep breath.

"Have… Be... He's very sensitive now, you know. I think he's been crying.”

Arthur's heart dropped. If only he knew what made Merlin so upset. He had reason to be sad, no doubt. All of a sudden he was a five-year-old boy. Perhaps he was worried that he would never be the same again. Perhaps the limitations of his new reality were weighing him down. Or perhaps he was just a child who felt lost in the overwhelming world of adults in which he was immersed. Perhaps he missed Gaius, or his mother. It could be so many things... And Arthur didn't know what things worried children —he hadn't really had a childhood, not a proper one anyhow, and the only experience he'd had with children was that druid boy he had helped Morgana save all those years ago. Which wasn't much—. And, well, if that weren't enough, he had never understood what bothered Adult Merlin to make him look so sad and so worried so often. He was his best friend, but Arthur sometimes felt —and even more so now— that he would never get to fathom Merlin out. 

So, he did not know if he was the best person to help Merlin. He had never been very good at opening his heart to him. He had never been good at understanding him. And now he felt less qualified than ever for that mission.

But Merlin needed him. Him in particular . So Arthur would be brave and face the situation, no matter how uncomfortable it might be. For Merlin.

He kissed Gwen on the forehead, covered the distance between him and the door to Merlin's room in two strides, and knocked gently.

There was no answer, but Arthur opened it anyway. He was greeted by the vision of Merlin sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by a dozen open books. He wasn't reading, though; at least not at the moment. He was just sitting cross-legged, head lowered, and didn't even react when Arthur entered his room. Arthur cleared his throat, but before he could say anything, Merlin beat him to it.

"I don't even know how to use it," he murmured ruefully, looking at his hands.

Arthur looked at him blankly. At a glance, he discovered the sword Elyan had forged for the boy within a foot of him. Was that what he meant?

"What, the sword?"

Merlin didn't answer. He still looked disheartened, with his cheeks buried in his fists.

“I tried to read about it but reading is just so difficult! And tiring! It wasn’t that hard before! And these books, they have too many words, long and difficult words, and they just make no sense. I- I cannot understand what they say,” he complained. “And now I don’t know what to do.”

With a sigh, Arthur sat beside him on the floor.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Merlin. You’re right, reading is difficult. I didn’t learn how to read until I was seven. And you definitely look younger than seven.”

“You don’t understand. How am I going to fix this? I don’t know how to use it anymore!”

“Use what, Merlin? The sword?” Arthur repeated calmly.

“I'm useless,” Merlin stubbornly continued, not answering his question. “First I stayed like this ‘cause I didn’t know how to fix it, and now I can’t use it! Sometimes it works, like yesterday with the knights, but Lance and I have been trying things and I cannot use it when I want! It only works sometimes, when I’m not thinking. It— it just sort of happens and I cannot control it and it's terrible!” he finished, hiding his face behind his hands.

It hurt, seeing Merlin so distressed, but Arthur didn't quite understand what the boy meant. Merlin had never stood out for his skill with a sword precisely. In fact, to Arthur's despair, he had never shown the slightest interest in learning how to use a sword, not even to defend himself. 

"But Merlin, when you were older you didn't know how to use a sword either," he tried to joke, giving him a playful shove on the arm.

The boy did not vary his position, and Arthur thought he heard a sob. 

"Hey, hey, Merls." The affectionate nickname rolled off his tongue. “They say children learn much faster than adults. Every cloud has a silver lining, we could take the opportunity to give you some sword lessons if you want. What do you say?”

Merlin was silent for a few more seconds, until he raised his face to fix his big, tear-filled eyes on Arthur.

"How can I protect you like this?" he said, so heartbroken, moving Arthur to his very soul.

"Merlin, you don't have to protect me," he replied softly, placing a hand on Merlin’s delicate shoulder.

"Of course I have, and now I'm useless," Merlin whimpered. “And I’ve realised I am too little to be your servant, too. I can't dress you, I can't prepare you a bath, I can't do anything.” 

"Merlin, you buffoon, you don't have to do anything until we get you back to normal."

"You'll get tired of me," Merlin said sorrowfully. “Because I can't do anything for you. And then you’ll sack me, and I’ll no longer be your servant, and I’ll have to leave Camelot, and you’ll no longer love me.” 

"Wait, wait, wait," Arthur stopped him firmly. “What nonsense is that?”

"You'll stop loving me," Merlin sobbed.

Was that what bothered Merlin? Was that his concern? Arthur would have laughed, if it hadn't been for the fact that he was so moved that the laugh might as well come out as a sob.

“Merlin! That is not true! How can you think that?”

The boy did not change his position, and it suddenly occurred to Arthur that perhaps he did have reason to think that. He realised that he had never been honest with Merlin. He was always telling him how bad a servant he was, how annoying he was, how much he would like to lose sight of him. Adult Merlin had been able to discern the affection behind those comments —or so Arthur had always taken for granted— but perhaps Kid Merlin only remembered the unkind words. Arthur was rarely nice to him. 

Well, that was going to change.

"Merlin, look at me," Arthur ordered, and did not continue until the boy obeyed. “You are my best friend. My best friend. And nothing’s ever going to change that. You are five years old now? Well, I don't care. You are still Merlin. That's the only thing that matters to me. Never , you hear me, never will I stop loving you.” 

Merlin sniffed as Arthur marveled at how easy it had been in the end to open his heart to a child Merlin. With his usual Merlin… Well, maybe he wouldn't have used those same words. 

“Are you serious?” Merlin stammered, still unsure.

“Yes, of course.”

“You’d love me no matter what?”

"Yes, Merlin." 

"What if I was a sorcerer?" the boy asked suddenly.

Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. Worried again about magic and magic users? Maybe last night's story had given him nightmares.

“What?”

"What if you found out I have magic? Would you still love me the same?”

Arthur hesitated for only a few seconds, long enough for the tears to return to Merlin's eyes. 

"That was just a story, Merls. But yeah, still, I'd love you just the same. Of course.”

The boy's face immediately lit up into the brightest of smiles, and he lunged forward to give Arthur an effusive hug. Arthur chuckled and hugged him back, ruffling his hair in the process.

"Hey, Merlin," he said more seriously when they parted. “I want you to know something.”

The boy nodded and looked at him attentively. 

"You’ve never let me down. You’ve always been by my side, always. And I will not be less. I'm sure Gaius will find a cure and you’ll return to normal in no time. But, whatever happens, I promise I'll be here. For whatever you might need me. You know that, don't you?”

The boy gave an unusually adult smile. 

"I know, Arthur."

The prince nodded. 

"And now... do you want to go for a horse ride?" he proposed spontaneously.

Merlin's eyes gleamed hopefully.

“Just us?” Merlin asked.

"Just us," Arthur agreed, ruffling his hair again.

“Nice! Although… we could also invite Gwaine,” Merlin weighed.

Arthur grimaced. 

"Gwaine?" Why does it always have to be Gwaine?” he complained.

Merlin shrugged.

"I like Gwaine," he simply said.

A sudden wave of irritation washed over Arthur. And then he remembered that Merlin's sincerity had increased exponentially since he was a child. Would it be very wrong to take advantage of it? Yes, definitely. But on the other hand... It was a unique opportunity, right?

“I know. But, Merlin… You like me better, right?” he said smoothly.

The boy looked at him with a mischievous gleam in his eyes and chuckled maliciously.

"I don't know. You are very bossy. And you look a lot like a toad.”

Arthur's ears took on a reddish hue very similar to that of the Pendragon’s flag.

"Again with that? I don't look like a toad, Merlin!”

The boy had a fit of giggles. His childish laugh was even more precious than usual, and Arthur couldn't help but laugh too.

"Do you really prefer Gwaine?" he was able to ask at last, getting serious and trying to sound upset. “If you don't tell me the truth, I'll be very sad.” 

Arthur buried his head in his hands, sniffed a couple of times dramatically, and waited, holding his breath. He did not have to wait a long time. Immediately he felt Merlin's little arms gently circling his neck.

"Don't cry, Arthur," he said very softly, burying his head in Arthur’s neck. “I love you more than anyone. More than everyone else. More than everyone else put together.” 

Arthur smiled to himself and wrapped his arms lovingly around Merlin. In a sudden flare of affection, he turned his face to place a kiss on the boy's cheek.

"And I you," he said.

And, without warning, he began to tickle his sides. The boy squirmed in his arms, laughing heartily, but Arthur didn't let him escape.

"But I won't forget that you called me a toad."

"N-no, I just said that… you look like a toad, not that you are one!" Merlin protested between gasps and laughter.

“What was that?” Arthur pressed, intensifying the tickling. 

“Alright! Alright! You don't look like a toad. Happy?”

Arthur let him go. 

“Yes. For now.”

Merlin scowled at him, but the ghost of laughter still lingered on his face. Arthur regarded him with an affectionate smile. Tears had trickled down his dirty cheeks. How could he have managed to get so dirty without leaving his room all morning?

"Come here, you idiot," Arthur said in a fond outburst, and he wiped his face gently using his own sleeve. “Aaah, look at that! There’s a pretty boy under all that dirt.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Merlin grinned.

“I think you are pretty dumb," he specified, pinching his cheek.

Merlin giggled, and Arthur wordlessly lifted him to sit the boy on his shoulders. Merlin buried his hands in his hair and laughed delightedly once more. It was so easy to make him laugh, more than it usually was... Arthur found that his laugh still had the same soothing effect on him. 

"I thought I was going to ride a horse, not an arse," Merlin's voice ringed petulantly over his head.

"This is unbelievable," Arthur laughed. “How can you be this cheeky at five years old? You are just unable to change, right, Merlin?”

“Bah. You wouldn't want me to change,” Merlin yawned. 

And he was absolutely right. It was a relief for Arthur to see that Merlin was always Merlin, no matter what happened and, apparently, no matter how old he was. Arthur could always find that something in him that made him so unique, so special. So Merlin.

"Come on, let's get those horses," Arthur said happily. 

***

Arthur did not regret having made the slightly selfish decision to leave Sir Leon in charge for the rest of the day. There were only two days left until the full moon, and nothing would prevent him from enjoying the unusual company of little Merlin. Because, although Arthur wanted to get back his old Merlin at all costs, having had the opportunity to meet Merlin in such a pure and innocent way —so tender and at the same time so funny and unpredictable—, was turning out to be an unexpected gift. The child had sown his heart with doubts and anxieties, yes, but something told Arthur that perhaps he should be grateful for it.  

That evening ended up being the best evening Arthur had lived in years. He and Merlin galloped off alone, both on the same horse; the boy in front of him holding the reins, Arthur firmly holding him from behind. Merlin had reluctantly mounted the horse, arguing that they should have an escort in case they were attacked by bandits, but Arthur had managed to convince him by promising that Gwaine and Lancelot would join them a little later for a picnic. He didn’t say that he desperately wanted some time for the two of them, time alone, like when they went on a secret quest or just hunting. Arthur had been sensitive enough to deduce that the kid would not be too happy to go hunting —Arthur was aware that Merlin had always hated hunting. He didn't want to see him whimpering over a dead rabbit— and there was no quest to undertake, so he stuck to a pleasant ride on his horse, which proved to be even more pleasant than he had envisioned: Merlin kept chattering non-stop, excitedly pointing to all the animals they came across and laughing at the swaying of the horse, and Arthur simply took delight at listening to him with a placid smile plastered on his face.

They stopped by the stream that Arthur had agreed upon as a meeting point with his knights, and while the horse drank, Arthur and Merlin frolicked around as if Arthur had become a child too. They wrestled, they rolled on the grass, they splashed until they were soaked, they laughed out loud. And they ended up lying on the grass, staring at the clouds and laughing at each other's occurrences, while Arthur wondered, his heart pounding with something akin to longing, what it would be like to do all this with his usual Merlin.

By the time Merlin's guts were starting to get too scandalous, Gwaine, Lancelot, and Gwen showed up with supplies and a blanket, and they promptly prepared a picnic. Sitting next to Gwen, Arthur enjoyed watching Merlin and Gwaine messing around and chasing each other, and he was also pleased to see how the boy relied on Lancelot for help climbing a tree. Jealousy did not come to nibble at his heart, because every time Merlin caught Gwaine, he chanted Arthur's name to show him his victory, and because from the top of the tree, it was Arthur who he waved at proudly. Arthur took to thinking that Merlin was lucky to have so many people around him who loved and cared about him, and he found out that that certainty made him happy too. And even more so now that he knew that he was the one who occupied most of Merlin's heart. I love you more than everyone else put together , he had said. And Arthur felt, deep in his heart, that he couldn't ask for more.

***

When night fell, Elyan was waiting for them back at the castle. After giving Gwen a hug and ruffling Merlin's hair, he informed of the location of the clearing where they were to meet Gaius and the Druids.

"The distance can be covered in a day," Elyan told Arthur, "but going in a group will surely take longer. In my opinion, it’d be better to leave a day and a half in advance to make sure we make it in time.”

"All right. We'll leave tomorrow afternoon then," Arthur decided.

Elyan retired to rest, and before going with him, Gwen joined the small retinue that surrounded Merlin to bid the boy goodnight. Arthur said goodbye to Merlin when the boy was about to go to bed and left him in charge of Leon and Lancelot, who were going to spend the night with him.

"I think Merlin would very much like you to stay," Gwen whispered as they left Gaius's chambers. “It's the last night he’ll be like this, before you go to meet Gaius and the Druids.”

“I know. But I want to give a sense of normality to all this. Merlin knows that normally I wouldn't do something like that,” Arthur reasoned.

"Well then maybe you should rethink how to behave around him when he's back to normal," Gwen suggested sharply.

Arthur stared at her, surprised.

"Arthur, it's clear that you care a lot about Merlin. No, you don't need to pretend otherwise, we all know that.” She sent him a compassionate smile. “You’ll not be less of a prince or less of a man for admitting that you love your friends, Arthur. You should try to find a way to show Merlin that he is important to you. The people we love should know that we love them, don't you think?”

Arthur didn't know what to say. Gwen smiled at him.

“It doesn't make sense to deny positive feelings like affection, friendship or love. Don't waste time doing it, Arthur. They are part of you, and they are not going anywhere just because you ignore them. They’ll just encyst and become painful if you don't pay them proper attention.”

The girl graced him with a farewell caress before walking down the hall. Arthur stared at her disappearing form, amazed that Gwen had always understood what it had taken him four days —and a servant-turned-child— to figure out.

***

When Arthur was about to go to bed, someone knocked gently on his door. Surprised, he went to open it to discover Sir Leon on the threshold.

“Leon…?”

"I'm sorry, My Lord. Merlin…”

"What about him?" Arthur asked urgently.

"I'm sorry," Merlin's shrill voice said as the boy's head peeked out from behind the knight's legs. 

Automatically Arthur's heart calmed.

“He couldn’t sleep. He's very nervous,” Leon whispered. “Even Lancelot couldn’t calm him down. We thought…”

“I understand. It’s okay, I'll take care of him. Thanks, Leon,” Arthur said affectionately.

The knight bowed respectfully and left. Arthur sighed and looked at Merlin, but the boy did not dare to look back at him.

"I wanted to see you," he finally whispered.

"Come on in."

Merlin shuffled into Arthur's chambers and stood three feet from the bed.

"Did you prepare it yourself?" he asked, surprised.

"Merlin, I can do more things than you think."

"You never do them. How would I know that you can do them?”

Arthur smiled.

“Fair point.” 

Merlin just stayed there, frozen as a deer, and Arthur rolled his eyes. 

“Don't just stand there, you idiot. Get in and cover yourself with the blankets. You’ll get a cold.”

Merlin started and looked at him in surprise.

“What? Do you want me to sleep here?” he mumbled in disbelief. “In your bed?”

"Merlin, I know you are an infant now, but I was under the impression that we still speak the same language,” Arthur mocked fondly. “Come on, get in! You’ve always dreamed of it, after all.”

Arthur flushed as soon as he heard his own words but Merlin, of course, did not stop to think of possible double meanings, nor did he notice his embarrassment. He only stared at the bed for two more seconds in wonder, before jumping on it excitedly.

"Oooh, it's even softer and comfier than I imagined!" he exclaimed ecstatically, bouncing on the mattress. “And this blanket is so warm!”

Arthur couldn't help but laugh. He looked at Merlin fondly as the boy eased himself under the covers, and then lay down beside him so that he could tuck them both in. All the initial emotion subsided, the light in Merlin’s eyes started to fade little by little as sadness took hold of them. 

“Merlin. What's wrong?”

The boy did not reply. He just kept looking at him anguished. Arthur noticed that the boy wouldn't take his eyes off him, as though afraid that Arthur would disappear if he let him out of his sight.

“Please, Merlin, just… just tell me. It's me, you know you can trust me. Let me help you.”

Merlin nodded and swallowed, but remained silent. His eyes shone with unshed tears.

"What is it, Merlin? Are you worried about tomorrow's journey?”

Merlin did not answer right away. He just moved under the covers until he found Arthur and, burying his face in the crook of his armpit, snuggled against his side. Arthur automatically wrapped him in his arms.

"I'm scared," Merlin confessed in a wobbling whisper. “I know where that clearing is. We have to go through forests infested with bandits. And enter another kingdom. We could be attacked.”

"You don’t need to worry about that, Merls, we’ll have an escort. We’ll be well protected. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you.”

Merlin shook his head.

"I'm worried about you. I can't protect you like this,” he sobbed against his chest.

Arthur could only answer by hugging him tighter, because his chest was flooded with a thousand different emotions, all of them overwhelming, and he had to concentrate on keeping his breathing even.

"Everything will be fine," he finally managed to say. “I'll take care of everyone. I’ll look after the knights, and I’ll look after you and me too. I promise that we will all return safe and sound. I promise, Merlin.”

They were silent for a long time, Arthur running his fingers through the boy's hair to comfort him.

"Do you think that when we get back I'll be me again?" Merlin asked conversationally when Arthur was beginning to think that he might have fallen asleep.

“You’re still you, Merlin. But I’m sure when we get back home you’ll be the same lazy and useless servant you used to be.”

Merlin's laugh reverberated within Arthur’s ribcage.

"The same witty, humble, kind, wise, loyal, and brave servant," Arthur added softly against the boy's hair, "whom I so need by my side and for whom I care more than I can say.” 

Merlin held his breath for a few seconds and then hugged Arthur even more tightly. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Arthur began, still stroking his hair. “You asked me the other day if I’d like to be your boyfriend when you grow up again. Did you mean it?”

The boy fiddled with the collar of Arthur’s shirt.

"Yes," he said at last. “I… I think. At least I think I’d have liked that, before.” 

Arthur's heart raced.

"So... Before this, before you accidentally turned into a child... Did you like me that way?"

Merlin was thoughtfully silent for a small eternity.

“I don’t know. I just know... that I love you all .”

“ All ?” Arthur smiled, moved.

“Yes. I love you all that can be loved. And then some more.”

Merlin didn’t add anything more before finally drifting off. Nor did Arthur. He just stared at the ceiling with Merlin curled across his chest for a very long time before giving in to sleep.

He wondered for the second time that day what it would be like to be with the old Merlin like this. What it would feel like to have him asleep on his chest, to feel his breathing tickling his neck and his heart beating against his. 

And he knew.

He was about to both laugh and cry at the irony that his servant had had to become someone he loved in a totally different way —in an opposite way— to get it. 

He wondered if fate would be so cruel as to prevent Merlin from going back to his old self, as to prevent Arthur from ever seeing Merlin for what he truly was: the man who made his heart flutter and his soul sing. 

What would it be like to live caring for that child while forever mourning the loss of the man he loved?

He loved him. Merlin. He loved Merlin.

Arthur was in love with him.

So Merlin had better go back to normal, because Arthur didn't know how he could live with that certainty if he had lost him forever. Always missing the man he loved all that can be loved... and then some more.

Chapter Text

“Dollophead. Wake up. Rise and shine! Today is the day! Well, not today, it’s actually tomorrow, but we’re leaving today. I want to be normal again! Well, it's not that now I’m not normal. But I just want to be normal, as I was before.”

"Merlin, trust me, you've never been normal."

"Ah, right. Yeah, no, I don’t know if I want to be older again, so you can treat me badly and boss me around and hit me again.”

"I've never hit you!"

"You hit me all the time! Look, in these four days no one’s slapped me. It’s a record. All my bumps are healing.”

"Now you are just being theatrical."

“I’m not! Hmm I think I'd rather be a child. Look how well you treat me like this. You let me sleep in your bed and everything. If I were old, you’d have killed me just for sitting on your bed.”

“You're wrong. You see, you’re a child now, but if you don’t shut up and let me sleep, I might not kill you, but be sure as hell that I'll send you to the stocks.”

"Bah, they're too big for me."

"I'll have ones your size made only for you."

“You’re a very bad liar. Look at your nose! It’s getting bigger!”

“Merlin, please, just shut up.”

“You see? Please . You are very good to me now. So I'm not going. I want to be a child forever.”

“Over my dead body. I need a servant. I'm sick of having to do everything myself.”

"And I’m sick of being your slave!”  

“My…? Ugh, you are incredible.”

“Thanks.”

***

Arthur had business of state to attend to before leaving, but his main duty was to speak to Guinevere before setting off in search of Merlin's remedy. So he left Merlin with Elyan, taking advantage of the fact that his knight had the morning off and the kid wanted to spend time with him, and Arthur invited Gwen for a walk in the gardens.

"I look forward to getting the old Merlin back. But at the same time I feel a little sad,” Gwen commented. “I think I’ll miss the child. He's so… "

“Unique. Special. In short, Merlin in his child version. Yes, I know,” Arthur smiled.

Gwen looked at him with a half smile.

"Oh, I see. He’s won over your heart, hasn’t he?” 

Arthur sighed.

"I think Merlin already did that a long time ago. Maybe even the moment we met.”

Gwen looked at him pleasantly surprised, but didn't comment.

"But I hadn't realised until he turned into a child. Funny, isn't it?”

"Well, you know what they say... We don’t know what we have until we lose it.”

"I hope we haven't lost him," Arthur muttered with a shudder.

“Of course not. He'll be his old self again, you'll see,” Gwen assured him, squeezing his arm.

"I know. That's why I need to talk to you, Guinevere. I have… I have to be honest with you.”

She stopped and stared at him.

"What is it, Arthur? What’s wrong?”

“You know that I love you. That I love you so much. You are the woman I've loved the most in all my life.”

“I— Of course I know, Arthur.”

"But all this… Merlin. Losing him without losing him, knowing him in a different way, discovering how he sees me, the uncertainty of whether we will ever get him back… All this… I don't know, Gwen. It’s changed my schemes. I’ve realised just how important he is to me. You were right, I love him very much. And I want to change how some things were between us. I want to be better with him. I want... I don't know. This whole situation... I'm a mess.”

Gwen frowned.

"I don't know if I understand. I mean, I understand you, of course I understand you. But...”

“No, actually, I was a mess. Now not so much. I see things clearer now. I think I now know what I want. And I think we should… Gwen...”

“Yes?” she said, concerned.

"Guinevere. What are we? You and I. What is this we have?”

She stared at him, clearly confused, and at first she didn't know what to say.

"I… I don't know, Arthur. I guess... I guess it’s the project of something that could be. A maybe.”

Arthur nodded.

"That’s the thing. I don't think it could be, Guinevere. Not anymore. We’ve come this far, and it’s been wonderful, and I’m comfortable with what we have, but I really feel that I…” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I care deeply for you, Gwen, truly, but I’m not sure if I want this thing between you and me to become something more than... a maybe.”

Gwen accepted his words and pondered them as she searched his face for any missing information which might help her understand why Arthur was saying that.

"I'm also comfortable with what we have," she said at last. “But it makes me a bit dizzy to think about what might come. After all, you are a prince, and I am just a servant.”

“I don't care about that.”

"But I do. I am not cut out to be a princess, let alone a queen. I don't know anything about politics and governments and, above all, I don't think I’d enjoy having to decide about the lives of others. I love you, Arthur. And I would be willing to sacrifice many things to be with you. But I also know that love sometimes ends and that if that happened, I wouldn’t be happy being a queen just out of obligation. So, if you have doubts… I’d appreciate it if you were honest with me. I ... I don't care if he's a prince, or a knight, or a blacksmith, or a servant. What I do know is that if I ever get married, I want it to be with someone I love, with someone who loves me.”

"It's what you deserve," Arthur said with a tender smile.

Gwen nodded, and looked at him with wet eyes.

"I love you, Arthur. But I only want to be with you if that's what you want too.”

"I… I thought I wanted to be with you, Gwen, but now... I think I see you more as a sister. I'm sorry.”

She looked at him with a slight frown.

“Can I ask…? Arthur, is this because of your position as regent? Are you worried… are you worried that they don't consider me appropriate?”

“What? No! To hell with what they think. And my father is in no condition to give an opinion. In my personal life, I only care about what I think. And I’d never think that you are not appropriate. Of course you are appropriate, you are much more than that. You are the most sensible person I know, and there’s no bigger heart in Camelot than yours. You are just, and kind, and precisely because you don’t pursue the throne you’d be the perfect queen, Guinevere. I guess that could still be arranged somehow, by the way, but if you don’t desire to be queen, at least I hope you’ll accept a position in the council when the time comes.” Gwen gasped and Arthur smiled at her. “So, no, it has nothing to do with that. It's just that…” Unexpectedly, Arthur laughed. “No, I’d love to see what the council thinks of this. I'm really looking forward to seeing their faces. I'm sure they won't find it at all appropriate. But, unfortunately, it's none of their business, is it?”

She looked at him a little lost, but then her expression shifted in realisation. A new light flared in her eyes.

"Arthur, all of this... It's about Merlin, am I wrong?" she asked carefully.

He looked at her with a tactful smile.

"Yes. That's what I was trying to tell you before with all that rambling," he said, almost shyly. 

She nodded to herself, taking it in, Arthur would say more amazed than surprised. And not at all scandalized.

“Wow,” was all she said.

"Yeah, wow," Arthur agreed.

They were silent for a moment.

"Now I understand why you were so horrified by the idea of adopting him," she finally laughed.

Arthur laughed too, relieved.

"It would be very strange, don't you think?"

“Yeah, very. Oh, Arthur, this must all be very difficult for you. I can’t imagine how confused you must feel.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m not that confused, not anymore, but… I hadn't realised what I really felt for him until now. Until yesterday, especifically. These four days have been like an intensive spiritual journey.”

She hugged him.

"I’m sure Merlin will get back to normal and you two will be very happy together,” she murmured.

“And what about…?”

“Me? I am just so happy for both of you. Really,” she assured warmly, tightening her hug.

Arthur hugged her back.

"You are the best person I’ve ever met, Guinevere."

"Well, I have to take it in yet. But, leaving Merlin aside, I think you're right. We were comfortable with this thing he had, but if I'm honest, I wasn't even thinking about the future, not anymore. I guess by now we were together out of habit."

Arthur nodded. 

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I love you and I'm going to miss you," Gwen continued. "And I guess seeing Merlin and you together is going to be a little weird for me at the beginning. But, in part... I am not that surprised, you know? You two have always had something very special. Like you had this whole world apart reserved only for the two of you." She smiled warmly. "You two are clearly made for each other, there's no denying that.”

"Well, let’s don’t anticipate events," Arthur laughed. “We still have to get Merlin back,” he added more seriously. “And ask him what he thinks about all this.”

"Oh, he’ll be delighted. I always suspected that he... That for him, you... Well, you know,” she said, blushing a little.

A fleeting smile escaped Arthur. However, he remembered that...

"The other day he told me about a girlfriend he once had," he mused with a frown. “Didn't you know anything about that?”

“Merlin?” she said, surprised. “First news. It might have been before he came to Camelot.”

Arthur thought that she didn’t need to know that, according to Merlin, Arthur had killed her, so he did not reply.

"I've never seen him interested in any girl, to be honest," Gwen continued. “Not even me, no matter how hard I tried to catch his attention when I first met him,” she laughed. “He was such a special boy, so charming and kind. But no, he wouldn’t take the hint. The idiot only has eyes for you.”

"Gwen, please, you're going to make me blush."

"Oh, you're going to be such a beautiful couple!”

"I think you're taking it too well. I don’t know if I like it.”

Gwen laughed.

"Hey, I have to see the bright side of all this, right? Or do you want me to start making a drama out of it? Because I have plenty of material. My boyfriend dumped me for my best friend . A good bard would be delighted if such a story came to his hands. He’d write an epic poem, or a love song, or…”

Arthur chuckled.

"Okay, okay, I get it! And, by the way, speaking of best friends and love poems… You know that Lancelot likes you, right?”

"What ..."

"More than that, I'd say. We all know he's head over heels for you…"

“Arthur!"

"I'm just giving you the information. You can do what you want with it. For what it's worth, he seems like a good catch to me.”

***

Gwen filled Merlin with hugs and kisses before leaving.

"This is going to be the last time I can hug you like this," she said as she lifted him and held him against her chest, ignoring the boy's protests. “So I plan to take advantage of it.”

Arthur counted at least ten kisses scattered all over Merlin's face while the kid laughed helplessly and tried to pull away unsuccessfully.

"There are no kisses for me?" Arthur asked, pretending to be offended.

"No, no kisses for you. I reserve them for the handsome boys.”

"And Arthur has the face of a toad," Merlin offered.

“Exactly.”

"But maybe if you kiss him you'll turn him into a handsome prince?"

“You think so?”

“Nah.”

"Nah."

"What I have to put up with…" Arthur scoffed, unable to hide his smile.

Gwen said something in Merlin's ear. The boy's face lit up, and then he put his hands behind his back and walked over to Arthur.

“What did she tell you?”

"Bend down, I'll tell you."

Arthur leaned in until his ear was roughly level with Merlin's face. The boy stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hmm. No. You're still a toad.”

When Arthur recovered from his surprise, he let out something between a laugh and a snort.

"So, I assume that the experiment didn’t work, then?" he said with a pathetic smile as he rubbed a hand over his cheek. 

Merlin met his eyes with a bright, clear gaze.

“Maybe it did. When you smile you do look like a handsome prince.”

***

The trip was quite enjoyable. Merlin went from one horse to another, entertaining everyone with his lively chatter and childish witticisms. At the end of the evening, already back in Arthur's saddle, he began to complain that his backside was killing him, and ended up falling asleep against Arthur’s chest. Arthur took it as the signal that they should stop to set up camp. He organised the guards and distributed Merlin's usual tasks: gathering firewood, lighting a fire, preparing dinner, tending to the horses, etc. 

He woke Merlin to eat something, and since the boy was so sleepy he was barely aware of what he was doing, Arthur spooned the stew over to him. As soon as he finished, Merlin snuggled into Arthur’s side and fell asleep again. The knights did not take long to do the same. Arthur lay down next to Merlin and, although he had already covered the boy with a blanket, he also shared his with him. 

Wrapped in the warmth of Merlin's little body, Arthur soon fell into a deep, restful sleep. 

Chapter Text

As soon as he woke up, the certainty that this would be the last day he would share with Kid Merlin came to Arthur's mind. It was a hopeful idea, but at the same time Arthur couldn't help but feel what could be described as anticipatory nostalgia. 

In that clearing, on that limpid morning, the first thing he had felt upon waking had been Merlin's little hand on his forearm and his breath rising and falling beside him, and, instantly, he had also felt all the tenderness he awakened in him. Yes, he would partly miss that child, just like Gwen. But he hoped his loss would be more than made up for with the return of the man he loved. 

As he turned to look at the boy, who was stretching next to him, he thought that, in fact, he would not lose anyone. The person he was looking at was Merlin, and the person he would look at when he woke up the next morning would also be Merlin, whatever happened. The only thing that mattered was that he stayed by his side, always by his side. 

And that thought stayed to haunt Arthur throughout a day in which Arthur had too much time to think about it all. As if awakening from a dream, he became more and more aware of what the objective of the quest was. They were heading to meet Gaius, who had to prepare —with the help of Druids— a dangerous potion that was very difficult to prepare. A potion that could well be a poison instead of a remedy. A potion that Merlin was going to drink . Arthur trusted Gaius's abilities; if there was anyone capable of achieving it, it was him. But at the same time ...

Arthur watched Merlin a lot that day. Merlin talking to the horses and laughing with the knights; Merlin gazing in wonder at the world around him; Merlin greeting the birds and opening his arms to imitate their flight; Merlin closing his eyes to imagine that he was flying on the horse, his hair blowing in the wind and his face glowing with happiness.

Arthur realised to his horror that until that moment he hadn't thought about the risk Merlin would take if he ever drank that potion. Arthur had planned it all, had arranged it all and then he had left Camelot with Merlin sitting on his own horse, and not once had he considered that they might be riding to his death. He wondered if he had overlooked the dangers he would be putting Merlin in out of sheer selfishness.

Was he willing to risk Merlin's life just to get the person he needed back? Merlin was fine, he was there, with him, alive and happy. Arthur hadn't even asked him if he wanted to get back to normal, he had taken it for granted. And yet, hadn't Merlin stated the morning before, in his chambers, that he preferred to remain a child? Hadn't Arthur answered over my dead body ? A chill ran down his spine as he realised that, all this time, he had been putting his own wishes before Merlin's safety.

At what point had Arthur lost perspective on the situation? He, who had always felt so responsible for Merlin, who had always felt the pressing need to protect him, to always keep him safe. He, who would die for Merlin without a moment's thought. And he had been willing to let him die without hesitation, just for the promise of taking back something he had never really had.

During the lunch break, Arthur got off his horse and approached Elyan's, where Merlin had traveled that last stretch. He lowered Merlin, exchanged a few instructions with the knights without letting go of his hand, and, when all was ready, sat next to him in silence. He watched the boy eat with a grim countenance, paying no mind to his own food. 

"If you don’t eat it will get cold," Merlin observed with his mouth full. “Gwaine isn't as good of a cook as I am, but he's not that bad, really. It’s chicken.”

Arthur did not reply.

“It could be worse. It could be rat,” Merlin said with a chuckle. “Do you remember when I made you a rat stew? It's the best thing I've ever done."

“Merlin.”

Arthur's tone of voice alerted Merlin, who immediately fixed on Arthur one of his looks of utter concern.

"What's wrong, Arthur?"

“Please, just tell me one thing. And I want you to be totally honest with me. Can you promise me that you’ll tell me the truth?”

Merlin looked at him uneasily.

“Yes. I promise.”

Arthur took a shuddering breath.

"Do you want to do this?"

Merlin blinked several times.

“To do what?”

"Take that potion. Be the same as before. Is that what you want?”

The boy tilted his head and looked at Arthur as if he had suddenly gone mad.

“Of course I want to be older again! I already told you, it's so boring to be like this. I'm useless. I can’t do anything for you. And—"

“Forget all that. I have other people who can work for me. Your position is covered. Your position as a servant, I mean, not your position as a friend. I don't need to cover that one because you're still here, and that's what's important to me. What I'm trying to say is… I don't want you to do this just for me.”

"Arthur…"

"Listen. It occurred to me that, for many people, this accident of yours would be a blessing. It’s as if you have gone back in time, if you wish you could relive your life and change the things you didn’t like about the one you already lived. You could… you could fix mistakes and do things differently, if that’s what you wanted. You’ve bought time, years of life. Who wouldn't want that? Perhaps you’re happy like this. Being an adult is not easy. And, well, I know that I always give you a hard time. Merlin, if you want to remain a child... No one would blame you. You’re in your right. What is clear, in any case, is that I have no right to decide for you.”

Merlin stared at him with that intensity he reserved only for Arthur, with that intensity that Arthur had never found in anyone else's eyes.

"I want to go back to being me," he finally said. “I'm sure. When this happened I thought I’d have to stay like this forever and it was horrible. I don't want to be a child, Arthur. I was already a child, and I was alone, so alone, in Ealdor. But I grew up and could leave, and then I met you and I was happy. I found my place. But that place isn't for a kid because you’re not a kid. I want to be just like you. I want to be your friend. I can't be your friend if I am a child. This is not me.”

Arthur nodded and gulped in an effort to contain his emotions.

"Merlin, you must know something. That potion… It's dangerous. It's very difficult to prepare, and if Gaius makes the slightest mistake you could… You could die, Merlin,” he said, his voice trembling.

Merlin didn't think twice.

"I'll take the risk," he decided, shrugging. “You need me. I'm not going to leave you alone.”

And, with that said, the boy got up to go pet the horses, leaving Arthur with a shattered heart.

***

Arthur didn't let Merlin travel with anyone else the rest of the way. They covered the miles that were left together, Arthur wrapping his arms around the kid, wishing the moment lasted forever, wishing he could keep Merlin by his side forever, no matter in what way.

They reached the clearing at dusk. The full moon was beginning to appear timidly over the peaks of the mountains, illuminating the trees with its ghostly light and filling the forest with imaginary monsters. Merlin clung tightly to Arthur's arm, but allowed no further display of fear. No, the one who was terrified was Arthur.

The image of Gaius, on that makeshift altar in the middle of the clearing, was also quite disturbing, with his long hair and his face only half lit. The hooded figures around him carrying torches did not contribute to making the scene inviting. If Arthur hadn't known why they were there, he would have bet they were about to perform a dark magic ritual. Only the presence of Percival, with his calm smile, soothed Arthur's spirits.

"Gaius!" Merlin greeted, rushing to hug him.

The man laughed and returned the hug.

"Did you get all the ingredients?" Arthur asked gravely.

"Yes, Sire. Everything is in readiness. Do you see that plant there?”

Arthur looked in the direction the physician was pointing. At his feet grew an extraordinary plant, whose sap seemed to be the same light of the moon. The stem pulsed, and the leaves gave off an unearthly blue halo.

“Is that…?”

"Selenary, yes. We must wait for the moon to fully show. Once it’s illuminated by the totality of the moonlight, we must cut it immediately and pour its leaves into the mixture.” Gaius pointed to the cauldron that rested on the cut log that served as an altar. “The Druids will recite an incantation. And right then, without delay, Merlin must drink the potion.”

Beside him, Merlin nodded in agreement. Arthur felt as if he had already drunk poison, because his insides were burning.

"Gaius, is it safe?" he whispered, unable to hide his concern.

"As safe as it can be, given the circumstances. If we follow all the steps correctly, nothing should go wrong.”

"What if something goes wrong?"

"For Merlin's sake… let's hope that doesn't happen," Gaius muttered, staring at the boy.

"Attention, Gaius," warned one of the Druids, the one who looked like the leader. His hair was almost white, even though his face was still young. “The moon is about to rise completely.”

"Sire, if you take a step back..."

Arthur put his arm around Merlin's shoulders and took a few steps back with him. Arthur did not relax his embrace, and Merlin reached for his hand to hold it tightly.  

“Are you alright?” the boy asked.

Despite everything, Arthur couldn't help but smile.

“Yes. Of course. It's just that it's a bit cold, don't you think? How are you?”

“Excited. But, yeah, it’s a bit cold…”

Arthur hugged him tighter. Merlin squeezed his hand.

"Merlin…" 

“Shh. They are speaking…”

Indeed, among the hooded figures an unintelligible murmur arose, gradually increasing in intensity. There was something evocative about the song, something powerful and ancient, and Arthur felt his hair stand on end. Merlin did not seem impressed though.

Gaius had mowed the plant and was crushing the leaves, which seemed to sparkle. With nimble fingers, Gaius extracted its juice and poured it over the cauldron, whose contents lit up to a golden hue.

"The colour is correct," Gaius announced. “Sire, Merlin must drink now.”

As in a dream, Arthur felt Merlin's hands gently release from his embrace, and he saw the boy walk away from him, taking confident steps toward Gaius. Arthur watched, unable to react, as the old man handed him a goblet filled with that threatening golden juice, a promise or a sentence, a medicine or a deadly poison… 

“NO!” Barely aware of what he was doing, Arthur leaped forward and stopped Merlin. “No, I can't allow it!”

With his free hand he took the goblet and held it away from the boy.

“Arthur?”

“No. No. No, you’re not drinking it. You will not drink. No way,” he stammered frantically. “No.”

“Sire..”

"I'm not willing to put Merlin's life at risk. I won’t allow it. There must be another way.”

Arthur felt the knights draw closer and closer, clearly concerned.

"I'm afraid there’s no other way," Gaius said softly. “Trust me, Sire, I wouldn't do this if it weren't our only option.”

"It's only been five days!" Arthur exclaimed desperately. “We haven't searched enough! We will search for more, we will travel in search of a better remedy if necessary, and in the worst case we can always try this again. But not now. Not this way. It's too hasty. No.”

"Arthur," Merlin told him delicately, tugging at his sleeve. “Arthur, the moment is going to pass. I have to drink, or I'll stay like this forever.”

“No. No. Please, no. I won't let you drink.”

Merlin looked around for help. The Druids continued in a discreet background. The knights looked at each other, not sure what to do.

"I'm with Arthur," Gwaine finally announced. “That thing is dangerous. I don't want you to suffer any harm. I'm sorry, my friend. We’ll find another way to do this.”

"Gwaine!" Merlin protested.

"Arthur, time is running out," Gaius warned, looking worriedly at the potion.

"This is not a debate. Nor a decision that will be made by consensus. I am the prince and Merlin is my servant, and therefore he’s my responsibility. He won't drink,” Arthur said through clenched teeth.

"Sire." Lancelot cleared his throat behind him, stepping forward. “I agree that we are not the ones to decide on this matter. I think it is Merlin who has to decide. It’s his life.”

Arthur looked at Merlin.

"Merlin has the right to decide," Lancelot concluded.   

Arthur knew, he knew he was right, he himself had asked Merlin what he wanted. But what he wanted was madness, and Arthur wouldn't allow it. Merlin never cared about his own well-being, he always put that of others before his own, and therefore he was not the best person to make decisions about his own life. He was not. Merlin always put Arthur first. Well, Arthur would now put him above all else.

And yet, when his eyes met Merlin's, all his resolve suddenly crumbled. There was concern in those eyes, and empathy, and understanding, and… and a plea. Those weren't the eyes of a five-year-old. They were Merlin's. 

Arthur closed his eyes, and a tear fell from them. 

When he opened them again, Merlin was in front of him, gently taking the goblet from his hand.

"It's my decision," he whispered softly.

"I know," Arthur murmured. It was. He thought Merlin would drink, and his body would collapse, and Arthur would have to hold him and watch as life left his expressive eyes, and he would die right there with him. “I know.”

His legs seemed no longer able to support his own weight, and Arthur dropped to his knees in front of Merlin. They were at the same height, now.

"You don't have to worry, Arthur. It’s not the first poison I take. It’s not so easy to kill me. Many people have tried, but I am tough. Tougher than you.”

Arthur let out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. Merlin raised the chalice hesitantly and Arthur held out his arms, in a vain attempt to stop him, to make him change his mind…

"It's your decision," he said in a strangled voice. “I just want you to know… Merlin, these days I’ve realised how much I need you. I need you by my side, more than I’ve ever needed anyone or anything. I don't like my life without you. It’s sad, and drab, and boring. Merlin, ever since you cannot be with me the way you used to be before, I’ve realised that I cannot live without you.”

Merlin nodded with tear-filled eyes, and raised the goblet to his lips.

"And that's why I know… Merlin, please, I can't lose you. I can't risk losing you. I couldn’t bear it. Don't force me to live without you, I couldn't. I'd rather have you by my side, even as a child, than not have you at all.”

The goblet trembled against the boy's lips.

"But forget what I need. It doesn’t matter. Only you matter. And you, Merlin, you have to live. You deserve to live. You deserve to live a long and happy life. Because, all these years we’ve known each other, you’ve only dedicated yourself to others, especially me. And you have to live for yourself too, Merlin. I’m sure you’ve got dreams and aspirations, do not give them up. Childhood doesn’t last forever, and even if we don’t find another way to fix this, you’ll grow again and you’ll get to do all the things you dream of. And I'll be there, every step of the way, if you want me to. I promise, Merlin. But, please, don't deny yourself that possibility. Please, Merlin.”

Slowly, very slowly, Merlin moved the goblet away from his lips and lowered his hand. Arthur watched him without losing detail of each and every one of his gestures, holding his breath. The chalice was already at chest level, but Merlin kept his head down, staring at the liquid.

"It's turned purple," the boy murmured.

"The moment is past," the Druid leader announced. “The potion will not work. Now it is nothing but a deadly poison.”

The clearing was deathly silent. It seemed to Arthur that all around him his knights were looking at the potion with some disappointment, but he was only relieved.

"Do you think it would have worked?" Merlin asked at last, raising his face to fix his gaze on Arthur.

“Honestly, I don’t care.”

As soon as Arthur finished speaking, the boy barrelled into him and hugged him tightly. Arthur returned the hug putting all his heart into it, not caring that, in that dreamlike clearing illuminated by the full moon, a group of knights and druids were watching them. At that moment, there were only the two of them.

***

The Druids seemed to vanish, and suddenly only Arthur, his knights, Gaius, and Merlin stayed in the clearing. They camped right there, not exchanging too many words, each deep in their own thoughts. Arthur and Merlin remained silent. They just huddled together under their two blankets and spent much of the night watching the moon roll over them. Perhaps at some point Merlin cried, but Arthur could not have said for sure. He wept silently himself, his chest never betraying the silent tears that bathed his face. Perhaps Merlin was aware of it nonetheless, because just when Arthur needed it most, he hugged Arthur tighter.

Merlin had been good at comforting with words before. Now he was good at comforting with hand-squeezes and hugs. It was all a matter of getting used to it. Arthur could get used to it.

"I promised you that we would all return safe and sound. I had to keep my promise,” he whispered against the boy's hair. “I had to keep you safe.”

Merlin only nodded and hugged him tighter.  

Chapter Text

The morning received them accompanied by a large group of bandits. Arthur must have guessed; they had camped in an unprotected area in plain view, and their mounts and cloaks screamed money from the rooftops. He had been stupid and unconscious, they all had been. It was clear that the events of the previous night had clouded everyone's judgment.

But there was no time for regrets. They were being attacked, they were outnumbered, their position was disadvantageous, they had been taken by surprise and Merlin was by his side, being a five-year-old boy. Just perfect.

"Merlin, run into the trees, come on! Now!!”

Merlin, of course, ignored him. He stood by his side, staring at the assailants as a rabbit would gaze at the hunter who is about to shoot him.

“Merlin! Get out of here!”

The boy only gave him a scowl, his feet firm on the ground. Merlin scanned the scene with his chin raised and a concentrated gesture, as if the battlefield were nothing more than a chessboard and he could move the pieces. Swearing, Arthur pushed him behind his back and faced the bandit who, at the moment, was the most pressing threat. He fought with urgency and determination at the same time, convinced that he would not let any of them get near Merlin.

In the heat of battle, he thought he could hear Merlin speaking behind his back, but Arthur was unable to understand what he was saying. The few thoughts he could afford were turned into a silent prayer begging Merlin not to be harmed.

It was too much to ask, he knew, and soon Arthur and Merlin were surrounded. They weren't the only ones. Each of his knights was facing at least four bandits at the same time. No one could come to anyone's rescue; the only option was to fight for one’s life, and that option was getting more and more remote. Arthur covered Merlin with his body, and he only hoped those men were honourable enough to spare a child.

Six men closed in around him, and Arthur was just a man clinging to a sword, though he wished he could be an impassable wall. A wall that, no matter how much damage it suffered, would still succeed in protecting Merlin. Arthur took two steps back, dragging Merlin with him, and raised his sword uselessly, determined not to give up no matter what. Instantly six other arms and six other swords reflected his movement…

“NO!"

Merlin's scream was deafening and piercing, almost inhuman. Behind him, where Merlin should be, something lit up with the intensity of the sun, immediately blinding all of their attackers. Merlin yelled again, and the blinding light spread to cover the entire clearing, accompanied this time by a strong gust of wind and a tremor of the earth. Arthur staggered and fell to the ground, and could not do more than cover his eyes and bury his head in his arms. 

Seconds later, calm seemed to return to the world. A slight breeze caressed Arthur's brow, and he slowly uncovered his face. Behind closed lids, he saw no sign of the dazzling light, so he cautiously opened his eyes, raised his head, and looked around. All his knights were in similar positions; scattered in the clearing, they were beginning to sit up and look around in confusion. A little farther, Gaius was stirring as well. The bandits, for their part, seemed to have vanished without a trace.

The world seemed to spin again at a very slow pace. Arthur could hear his own breathing, he saw his knights move very slowly, and their exclamations of astonishment reached his ears as though through a thick fog. In the midst of all that confusion, his eyes fell on Lancelot. His gaze didn't seem as unfocused as the rest of his men’s, and Arthur knew who it was directed at before he even turned.

Merlin.

Merlin was still standing in the same place where Arthur had last seen him before this strange phenomenon happened. Merlin was staring at him with wide eyes, his chest rising and falling at a frantic pace. Merlin had been the source of that light, he had been the sun that had saved them from the bandits. Merlin had done that.

Merlin had done magic.

"Arthur?" he said with barely a thread of voice.

Merlin. Magic. Him. Merlin. Magic. Merlin. No. 

“Ngk.” The only sound Arthur managed to make was more like a growl. It was not very eloquent, but his brain seemed to have turned into stone.

Still from the ground, Arthur watched as Lancelot stepped to Merlin's side and placed a protective hand on his shoulder. Gaius wasted no time in taking his place on the other side of the boy.

"Arthur…" Merlin repeated, on the verge of tears.

Arthur got up as best he could and looked around. Arthur the knight came to his rescue and took command.

"Gather the horses. We must get away from here as soon as possible.”

***

“Okay. Right. This... I don't even know where to start.”

When they had gotten far enough from that damned place, Arthur gave the order to stop and then asked for a private audience with Gaius, Merlin, and Lancelot. He led them to some secluded rocks and sat across from them, Gaius and Lancelot positioning themselves as defensive towers at both sides of Merlin. Arthur analysed their faces gravely. Gaius's blank gesture, Lancelot's restrained reserve, Merlin's nervous anguish.

"That was magic back there, am I right?" he began, carefully setting his voice in the tone he adopted when he was supposed to be a judge.

Merlin was the only one who nodded.

"And it was Merlin who summoned it."

Again only the silent nod of the child answered him. Arthur took a deep breath.

"It was an accident…" Merlin muttered under his breath.

“What exactly happened to those bandits?” Arthur asked as calmly as possible.

Merlin wringed his hands.

“I'm not sure. I think I sent them away?”

Arthur nodded.

“Is this something new? Did it come with the whole child thing? Is it some kind of side effect of the curse?”

Merlin swallowed hard and looked left and right, Gaius and Lancelot.

"Actually..." he began apologetically. “I… I’ve always had magic. I was born with it.”

"You are a sorcerer."

It was weird. Thinking of Merlin as a sorcerer. Merlin and sorcerer. They seemed two incompatible terms, like water and oil, like night and day, like good and evil.

"I have magic," the boy said simply.

"And you two. I assume you knew,” Arthur said, looking at Gaius and Lancelot.

The two of them nodded slowly. That explained many things. Many of the pieces of the enigma that was Merlin suddenly snapped together. All the times he was absent for no apparent reason, the vague excuses from Gaius, the knowing glances between Lancelot and Merlin. That was why Lancelot was the only one who had truly known Merlin. The only one who had been able to truly understand him.

"I see. You entrusted your secret to them.”

“No! They found out when they first met me. You are thicker.”

Merlin's attempted joke didn't work. The boy’s desperate smile quickly faded when he saw that Arthur's serious expression did not waver one iota.

"Leave us, please," Arthur told Gaius and Lancelot. "I want to talk to him alone.”

They both hesitated.

"Arthur…”

"Sire…”

"Please. I'll hear what you've got to say later. But now I want to talk to Merlin alone. Please.”

Still reluctant, the two men got up and left them alone. Arthur took a deep breath and looked back at Merlin.

“I’m sorry. Arthur. I’m so sorry. I wanted…”

"What.”

“I wanted to tell you. I've been trying to tell you all these days.”

Merlin's concern for magic. The tale. His version of the story. That question… 

What if you found out I have magic? Would you still love me the same?

"I was afraid that—”

"I know. I get it.”

“What…?”

"I said I understand, Merlin. Magic is banned in Camelot. My father thinks it’s evil and executes everyone who practices it. I have not repealed his laws. I understand why you keep it a secret. It’s not that difficult to understand.”

"Arthur…”

"It hurts. That you didn’t trust me. I thought... I don't know. I guess I was wrong.”

“But I trust you!” Merlin assured him, leaping forward to take Arthur’s hands into his and fixing his tear-filled eyes on him. “I trust you with my life.”

"So?"

“It’s just— I didn't want to be any trouble! I didn't want you to have a fight with your dad because of me, I know how much you love him. I didn’t want you to… to have to choose! You have many worries! I didn’t want to be another one! And what if Uther ordered you to kill me? You’d have to obey and you’d suffer and I wanted to protect you.”

“Merlin,” Arthur cut in hoarsely.

“Arthur?”

Arthur rubbed his eyes wearily.

"I can’t believe that’s what worried you."

Merlin shrugged. Arthur sighed.

"Merlin. Do you really believe I’d obey my father just like that? Do you really think me capable of killing you? After everything we've been through? After everything you've done for me?”

"I…" The boy's eyes widened, and then his expression softened. “No. I don’t.”

Arthur let out a sigh of relief.

"Well, at the beginning I wasn't sure," Merlin clarified, chewing on his lip. "But then… Then I was only worried about what you’d think. I thought you'd get angry, I thought you'd sack me and send me away and stop being my friend. I thought I'd hurt you, and I didn't want to hurt you. Arthur, I'd never want to hurt you," he assured wide-eyed.

Arthur swallowed through the lump of his throat.

“Tell me something. You have magic. You live in Camelot. You’re a sorcerer, but you keep it a secret, and you’ve never done anything to try to change the laws against magic, either. And you're just... you're just my servant. But you could be something more, right? You could be anything you want. And yet you are my servant. Why?”

Merlin tilted his head.

"I'm a sorcerer, it's true. And I’m your servant too. I am both things,” he said simply. 

"I don't understand. Why?”

"A dragon once told me that I was born with magic just for you. The dragon already knew that I’d be your servant and your friend, even before I met you! And all these wise men with magic who can see the future? They knew that, too. I don't understand it very well either. I only know that you are my friend and that I care about you and that I only use my magic for you. It's true, Arthur, I use it only for you. To protect you, to heal you, to keep you safe. I only want you to be well and happy.”

Merlin's obsession with keeping him safe. That conviction of his that his mission was to protect Arthur...

“But ever since I’m a child, my magic hasn't worked very well,” Merlin confessed, somewhat embarrassed.

"And that's why you were so worried."

"Yeah. I usually save your life about ten times a day. Not that you notice,” he said with a scoff.

Of course. The strokes of luck. The miraculous recoveries. A light guiding him in the dark...

"My guardian angel," Arthur murmured in awe.

Merlin didn't answer. He kept looking at Arthur with an intensity that hurt, as if he could peer into his very soul. 

"Do you think I'm evil?" he finally said in a small voice.

Arthur stared at the tiny boy. He looked into his inquisitive and sweet eyes, his transparent and sincere gaze. He remembered his bright smile and his easy laugh. He heard his kind words again and felt in his heart that unshakable faith that Merlin seemed to have in him. He evoqued his comforting touch on his skin, gentle and warm fingers fluttering over his body, feathery but lingering, soft but grounding. He tried to find a fissure in Merlin's devotion to him, and found none. 

He looked at Merlin. And he knew the answer.

“No. I don't think you're evil. I don't think I’ve ever met anyone that selfless and brave. I know you're a good person, Merlin.”

Merlin's sigh of relief touched his heart.

"You should have let me drink that potion," he said, using that tone that promised several minutes of incessant chatter. “Seriously, almost nothing can kill me. Many people have tried. Pfff, it's not even the first time I've been poisoned. Morgana and Morgause once had me stung like twenty giant scorpions, and I didn't die.” Arthur's mouth opened in horror. “Hmm. I should have told you before. If you’d known I had magic, you’d have let me drink it.”

Arthur blinked several times trying to get over the shock, and frowned.

"No, I wouldn't. I don’t care about your magic, I’d never have wanted you to take that risk, no matter how remote.”

Merlin smiled at him in such an adult way that for a moment Arthur thought he was in front of the usual Merlin.

“Weeell. I think I’m almost glad? I wanted you to know about my magic and everything and it's good that you found out while I’m still a child. You don't get so mad at me now, so I get to get away with it. 'Cause I’ve got away with it, right?” he asked, half worried, half hopeful.

Arthur chuckled. Merlin was probably right. It was easy to be forgiving of those puppy eyes.

"Not by a long shot. I am very very angry. And we’ll have to clarify many things.”

"Yes, yes, I know."

"And I want you to tell me one thing. This,” he said, pointing at the boy. “Was it really a curse? Were you really attacked by other sorcerers?” 

The boy reddened up to his ears.

“Hmm... no. It was an experiment gone wrong.”

“Wonderful. You are even more of an idiot than I thought.”

"Arthur!"

"Alright, let's leave it here. I am angry, because you lied to me and I trusted you. And now I feel like you’re not the person I thought you were. You have to understand that it will take time to regain all the trust I used to put in you. I have so many things to think about. For now, I just want you to know that… I appreciate everything you've done for me all these years. And that no one is going to hurt you. I’d never hurt you, Merlin. But I don't know... I don't know if things between us can go back to the way they were before.”

His heart bleeding, Arthur stood up and left Merlin alone, trying to unsee that broken expression Arthur would have wanted to erase from his little face at all costs. As he walked away, he felt the boy's gaze fixed on him, but he did not turn around. Merlin’s lies had opened a wound in Arthur's heart, a wound flavoured with the umpteenth betrayal. And this deceit came from the person he had thought would never fail him, the person he trusted and loved the most in the world. Arthur needed time to process everything. He needed space. He needed… 

He didn't know what he needed.

***

Merlin took refuge in Lancelot, and rode on his horse for the remainder of the journey. Arthur rode silently, alone, and no knight dared approach him. Gaius kept shooting him worried glances, but did not engage in conversation with him. 

Arthur was lost in thought. 

He thought about how, just a day before, he had been convinced that he loved Merlin. And now it turned out that he had fallen in love with a complete stranger. 

He thought about what his father would think about the whole thing, and knew that Uther would immediately imprison Merlin and condemn him to burn at the stake. He imagined himself faced with that situation, and in spite of everything the only scene he contemplated was him rescuing Merlin and fleeing with him. 

He thought that Merlin was right, and that maybe because he was a child the feeling of betrayal was lessened. He knew he could still love the boy. He didn't know if he would still love the man. 

Could he love someone he didn't trust?

Didn't Arthur trust Merlin? Before, Arthur would have entrusted him with his life without hesitation. And he would never think that Merlin wished him any harm. He had seen him countless times leaping between the dagger and Arthur, more than willing to die for him. Willing to sacrifice everything. 

What if that was what he had done? What if he had actually sacrificed everything for Arthur? What he was, his people, his aspirations... Merlin had put everything aside to just be his servant...

At a certain point in the morning Gwaine's horse aligned with Arthur's, and the prince realised for the first time, with some surprise, that Merlin's magic seemed to be news to the knight as well.

"You didn't know," Arthur said, looking straight ahead.

"About the magic? No.”

“And?”

“And?”

“Well, what do you think?”

Beside him, Gwaine shot him a thoughtful look.

"It didn't surprise me too much. Merlin has always been special. There's something unique about him. I should have guessed. He knows many things, he's intuitive and has the ability to be there whenever he is needed. He’s always been magical.”

"Doesn't it bother you that he lied to you?"

"He hasn’t lied to me. He’s only kept certain information from me," he specified. "And he has his reasons.” He glanced at Arthur. “He could have told me, though. I'd have kept his secret."

Arthur nodded but said nothing. Yes, he knew that Gwaine's loyalty was first and foremost to Merlin. Arthur was a secondary beneficiary.

"But you wouldn't do anything to him, would you?" And I hope you are not thinking of banishing him. I know magic is forbidden in Camelot, but—"

“No," Arthur interrupted sharply. "He's safe," he added, softer.

Gwaine nodded.

"In any case, this doesn't change anything for me," the knight commented.

"What do you mean?"

"Merlin is still Merlin. He just can do magic tricks now. Brilliant. Now I find him an even more interesting guy. But everything else is still there. Magic doesn't erase the rest, you know? I mean, he's still Merlin. The one and only Merlin. My friend."

Arthur turned to look at him with admiration.

"Don't you wonder what he uses his magic for?" he asked.

"You do? It's pretty clear to me. Back there, he used it to save us. That works for me. I bet he's saved our arses more than once without us knowing."

Arthur looked at him thoughtfully.

"And I sincerely hope that he also uses it to help him do all of your chores. Now I understand how he manages to get everything done,” Gwaine added with a slight reproach in his voice.

Arthur shook his head and smiled.

***

He himself approached the next person he spoke to. He had considered who to talk to first, Lancelot or Gaius, and had decided on the first. Merlin was like a son to Gaius, and Arthur knew the physician would not be objective. Besides, he understood perfectly why he had kept Merlin’s secret from him; he was not to blame. Lancelot, on the other hand, was the noblest of his knights, and Arthur did not doubt his loyalty to him. He always acted following his own code of honour, which was more demanding than the knights' one. Arthur knew he would get nothing but honesty from him. So, during the lunch break, Arthur walked up to him.

"Lancelot."

"My Lord."

"Can we talk?"

From below, Merlin stared at him in anguish, but Arthur averted his eyes. Lancelot squeezed the boy's shoulder affectionately.

"Of course, Sire. Merlin, I won't be long."

They discreetly separated themselves from the rest. Back in the group, Gwaine approached Merlin amiably. The smile with which the boy greeted him made Arthur's heart ache a little.

"Have you always known that Merlin had magic?" Arthur asked calmly.

"Not from the beginning, although I did find out shortly after I met him when I first came to Camelot. It was he who killed the griffin; he enchanted my spear. Without his magic, my blow would have been useless, and we would all certainly have died. That's one of the reasons why I left. I didn't want to take credit for something I hadn't done."

Arthur listened, unable to hide his surprise.

"He does that often, doesn't he?" he mused "Solve problems and save us when we are in danger without us noticing. And without taking any of the credit."

Lancelot nodded.

"That's the way he is. I've got to admire him. He has faced unimaginable dangers for the kingdom and for you, and he always lives in fear of being discovered, but still risks using magic to protect you. He's a remarkable man, Merlin."

"You know him well, don't you?"

Lancelot shrugged.

"I just knew an aspect of him that others didn't. Merlin is what you see. He is an honest person, transparent as the air we breathe." He eyed Arthur with a half smile. "I guess you might be wondering who Merlin really is." His smile widened. "Well, the servant you know, your friend, that's Merlin. He's not playing a character. He isn't pretending to be someone he is not. Merlin is just as you know him: resourceful, stubborn, brave, generous and, yes, a little bit chaotic. And, besides all that, he has magic. That's the only thing I knew about him that you didn't. But, apart from that, when it comes to his heart, to whom he really is... I don't think there is anyone who knows Merlin better than you, Arthur."

Arthur cleared his throat. There was a stupid lump in it.

"He told me he's had some trouble controlling his magic. Is that true?"

Lancelot sighed.

"So it seems. Merlin had never had a problem using magic as he pleased before, but now it doesn't always answer to his command. I've been watching him closely, though, and I think his magic is working on instinct. It manifests when Merlin needs it unconsciously. Normally, the magic display in the clearing wouldn't have gone like this. Merlin wouldn't have used magic so flagrantly. He'd have looked for a way to turn the tables and give us the advantage without us noticing. So… He still has magic, but he doesn't have full control over it."

Arthur thought of the clumsiness of his knights in the training ground, of the chickens that kept materializing in the kitchens, of Merlin suddenly appearing in the middle of his chambers to stain his fresh clothes and embarrass Arthur. He thought of those times Lancelot had been supposedly helping Merlin, and the distress of the boy afterwards.

"He'll have to relearn how to use it, I suppose," Lancelot continued, looking at the boy.

Arthur nodded to himself.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he questioned.

Lancelot looked at him solemnly.

"It wasn't my place to do it. It wasn't my secret, it was Merlin's. I knew he was no threat to your safety; quite the opposite. I couldn't find any reason to reveal it."

Arthur considered his words.

"So it is true then.  He uses his magic to protect me."

"He uses it to help. That's how it's been since I met him. Merlin is the best man I know, and I've never doubted that he only uses his gift to do good."

"But in Camelot those like him are persecuted. My father executes his… kin. And he's had to listen to him— to listen to me condemn the use of magic so many times."

Lancelot looked at him. His eyes seemed to smile.

"Don't try to understand his motives with your mind, Arthur. Merlin always follows his heart. He is your friend and he would do anything for you. He feels that his destiny, that his mission in this life, is to serve you and keep you safe. He'd never do anything that could harm you. He will be by your side for a lifetime, if you let him, even if you never do anything for those like him. And I know that he's always wanted you to know and accept him for who he really is, because you mean a lot to him. And I also know that he lives with the hope that, thanks to him, you'll change your views on magic. But, whether you do it or not… Merlin will be there for you. Always."

Arthur tore his eyes away from him and looked straight ahead without seeing anything.

"If I know one thing about Merlin, it’s that," Lancelot concluded gently.

With a nod, the knight left Arthur alone with his thoughts. But Arthur tried not to think. Because he wouldn't understand Merlin with his mind. Only with the heart. 

That's what this whole story between him and Merlin was about: the heart.

***

And that's what Merlin himself came to remind Arthur a little later, while they were packing up the makeshift camp.

"Arthur?"

Arthur had not noticed the boy's presence, as absorbed as he was in his tasks. Merlin handed him a waterskin and Arthur accepted it gratefully. 

"Are you alright?" the boy asked cautiously.

Arthur nodded, perhaps too dryly.

“And you?” he forced himself to say.

“I’m fine. Gwaine and the others have taken it pretty well. Gwaine says he wants me to do a magic show for him. And that he wants my help to get free ale at the tavern.” Merlin giggled cheerfully, and Arthur's soul seemed to sigh.

"Typical of Gwaine," Arthur muttered, tucking his sword into his belt.

“Do you need any help?”

"It's not necessary, thanks." And there it was again that cold tone that Arthur couldn't control and that made him grimace internally in self-deprecation.

He ventured a glance, fearing Merlin's reaction, and found that the boy was staring at him desolately. 

"Do you remember…?" he began, biting his lip. "You promised me the other day that you'd never stop loving me. Not even if I had magic. Well, I have magic."

Arthur froze and looked at him, unable to say anything as he felt the last stone of the temporary wall he had tried to build between them crumble inside him.

"And you don't love me anymore. You didn't mean it?"

"Merlin, I…" 

"Watch out!"

Arthur went on alert when he heard the shout of his knights, but he barely had time to react. Soon five bandits had jumped on them, and one of them, the one who looked like the leader, had managed to snatch Merlin from his side.

"Halt! We've got him!" the man shouted.

His face was barely recognizable under his beard and the layer of grime that covered him.

"So the Knights of Camelot have a magical child to protect them, huh?" he yelled, shaking Merlin.

Arthur took a step toward him, reaching for his sword.

"Not a step further," the man warned, putting a knife under the boy's chin. "Let no one come near, or I will slice his neck."

Arthur stopped and looked at him shaking with anger. Gwaine made to move closer, but the man held the knife tighter until a trickle of blood ran down Merlin's neck.

"Still there!" Arthur warned him. "Nobody move. Do what he says."

"Very well. Put your swords on the ground. Now,” the man urged, showing his dirty teeth.

Arthur obeyed without breaking eye contact with Merlin, trying to convey assurance.

"Is he that kid? The one who swept us out of the clearing?" asked another of the bandits with distaste.

"This is the kid. I know magic where I see it,” the leader spat. "Interesting. I believed that the Pendragons condemned the use of magic. Very hypocritical of you, to use Druid children as a weapon."

"I'm no weapon," Merlin muttered through clenched teeth.

Arthur looked at him in alarm. Was he unable to close his mouth?

"Oh no? Seriously? Well, that's a shame, because we're in need of one. Right, Cedric?"

"Right, Jeffrey."

"So if you're not a weapon yet, you will be. Do not worry. We will teach you. Our Tim here is half druid, isn't he, Tim?" he said addressing another bandit, who laughed.

"Yeah, well, I once had a half druid girlfriend."

"See? He's more than qualified,” said the Jeffrey man with a horrible smile before bending down so he could speak into Merlin's ear. "You are going to come with us."

Every muscle in Arthur's body tensed.

"And you," the bandit continued, raising his voice, "You're going to give us everything you have, including the horses, if you want his stay with us to be as pleasant as possible."

The man retreated with Merlin to the edge of a rather steep ravine, still watching the movements of all the knights. Arthur took the bag from his horse without losing sight of them for an instant. Merlin didn't seem particularly scared, no more than he had always been when they had faced danger in the past. And he didn't seem very concerned about himself —Arthur was beginning to fear that his stupid impression that he was almost immortal would make him too reckless—, no, instead he was looking uneasily at Arthur and the knights.

"All right," Jeffrey growled, once they had handed over everything they had. "Kill them."

"No!"

Merlin began to squirm in his arms, but the man had a firm grip on him, and did not lift the knife from his neck an inch.

"NO!"

Arthur feared what might happen. Lancelot had told him that Merlin did not have complete control over his magic, and he had already seen what Merlin was able to do.

"Merlin, hey, listen to me. Don't worry."

At his feet, the earth began to tremble.

"What are you doing?" the man roared, shaking the boy violently.

"Leave them alone!" Merlin pleaded desperately. "Leave them alone, and I'll go with you. Yes, I'll go…"

"No, Merlin!" Arthur was horrified, seeing how the boy lowered his hands and assumed a submissive pose.

The earthquake stopped. 

"I promise. I'll go with you and you can do whatever you want with me. In exchange you let them go. Please. You have to let them go," Merlin begged.

The bandit pretended to think it over.

"Alright. Yeah. I suppose that's fair,” he said cruelly. Arthur's heart sank as he saw Merlin relax. "Very well. Tell me. Who do you want me to let go first?"

Merlin looked directly at Arthur.

"Who’s the one you care about most? Come on, tell me. And just because they're special to you, they'll be able to leave with all their belongings."

Merlin bit his lip. He sent a hesitant look at Gaius, and the physician nodded almost imperceptibly. Then Merlin sniffed and raised his arm to point at Arthur.

"Him. You let him go first. And if he receives as much as a scratch, I'll never help you."

Damn. Arthur felt himself melt into a puddle of mixed love and worry.

The man grinned darkly, bringing him back to reality.

"Oh, the Prince? Of course, I bet you want to be like him when you grow up. So handsome, so strong, so noble… Oh, but I forgot! He kills people who are like you. Tell me, boy, did he kill your parents so he could use you as he pleased?"

"Leave him alone," Arthur growled, unable to contain himself.

"I'll be with you in a second, Your Highness," Jeffrey said without bothering to look at him. "Do you really care about Arthur Pendragon, the scourge of magic users?"

"He's my friend," Merlin said with great conviction. "Let him go. And the others too. And then I’ll go with you."

The man let out a whistle.

"Fucking prince! You've really got him brainwashed! That's what happens with children. Their loyalty is fragile, moldable. So I know that you and I will get along," he told Merlin. "And to build our relationship on a good foundation, I'll do you a favor that you will thank me for your whole life. I'm going to teach you a lesson. What do we do with nobles who do not respect us and want to destroy our way of life?"

"We kill them," chanted the other four bandits.

"And with hypocritical princes who think they're more honorable than anyone else while they use magical children for their own interests?"

"We cut their throats," they whispered.

Merlin's thin chest began to rise and fall too fast. Arthur was paralyzed.

"We cut their throats," the man confirmed cruelly.

The bandits surrounded the knights.

"Kill the Pendragon first. Then the others. Knights and prince, if you try to fight back, I’ll cut this little shit's neck. And you brat, you take a good look 'cause if you don't behave, you'll share their very same fate."

"NO!"

The earthquake returned with greater intensity. The bandits staggered, and the knights swayed to try to keep their balance. Arthur looked worriedly at the stone slopes behind him. Bad place to have made camp.

"Don't touch them!"

"Be quiet!"

"Merlin, calm down! Everything will be fine, I promise!"

"Arthur!"

"Don't worry, Merlin." Arthur struggled to keep away from the nearest bandit, stay on his feet, and look at Merlin, all at the same time. "Don't worry.  Everything will be fine."

"Arthur...!"

"You'll be fine! You have magic!" he desperately reminded Merlin when a bandit managed to enclose him against the rock wall. "You can use it to escape. Promise me you'll use it to escape, Merlin!"

"ARTHUR! NO!"

The world shook so badly then that it might as well have turned upside down. Arthur stopped feeling the ground under his feet, stopped feeling gravity pulling him, stopped knowing where the sky was.

The earth roared and rumbled, and cracked at their feet, opening crevices that swallowed the bandits. Rocks fell into the gaping holes, sealing their graves. 

Amid the chaos and confusion, the shaking on the ground subsided enough for Arthur to get to his knees. He peered through the dust to see Merlin trying to get away from Jeffrey, who had fallen to the ground. Encircling them, a rift was forming. And the soil was very loose, it came off easily, Arthur had seen it with his own eyes...

Arthur opened his mouth, reached out an arm, tried to scream, to call for Merlin, to do something. But he could only watch as the ground gave way under those two tangled bodies. 

In the last millisecond before the earth swallowed them completely, Merlin's eyes met Arthur's. And the fear in them turned into something warm, into one last hug.

And then Merlin disappeared from sight, dragged down the embankment along with the bandit Jeffrey.

***

They were all fine. His knights were confused, bruised, covered in dirt, but they were alive. Arthur was surprised to discover Gaius among them; at some point he had completely forgotten the presence of an old man whom he should have granted protection, and he felt terribly guilty. To his relief, the man seemed to be miraculously  unharmed. Arthur was fine too. Everyone wearing Camelot's colours was fine.

But Merlin wasn't there. So nothing was fine.

Arthur had checked the state of his men at a quick glance and then he had quickly crawled to the edge of the road.

"MERLIN!" he called.

His cry echoed through the trees. The trail Merlin and the bandit had left behind was clearly marked on the slope below them.

"There's a river down there," Gwaine reported from behind him.

"They may have rolled over to it," Leon added.

Arthur nodded, jaw clenched, and wordlessly jumped forward. He slid down the hill until the slope smoothed out, and landed on the ferns that lined the river Gwaine had spoken of. The summer heat had turned it into more of a stream that barely covered up to his knees.

Arthur stood up and splashed through it.

"Merlin!"

He advanced through the waters, looking around anxiously, calling out his friend's name over and over. It seemed to him that, further back, the knights had joined the search, but he paid them no heed.

He passed by the bandit's unmoving body and left it behind. There was no trace of Merlin nearby.

“MERLIN!”

"Arthur?"

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. A little farther, what looked like a rock covered in moss, dirt, and dry leaves shifted slightly. Arthur broke into a run in its direction, but the waters impeded his progress, and he stumbled several times, and fell and fell until he was soaked to the bone, but he did not stop.

When he finally reached him, Merlin was sitting in the middle of the stream, looking at Arthur in utter confusion.

"Merlin? What…? How…? Merlin!"

Arthur stared at him in wonder, unable to believe it, and then he burst out laughing, because he was so happy and relieved that he couldn't help but laugh. Merlin was ridiculous, with his hair wild and those clothes that were so small and tight for him, all torn by the seams. And he looked so perfect, so attractive, with his hard and at the same time delicate features, with those intense indigo eyes and those full lips, with that hint of a beard poking out of his jaw and his Adam's apple breaking the line of his pale neck...

"What...?"

Arthur lunged at him and suffocated his question in a passionate kiss on the lips.

"Hum. Wow," was the only thing that his stupid Merlin could think of to say in that deep, soft voice that Arthur had missed so much when they parted.

"Does this answer your question?" Arthur asked fiercely.

"What— what question?"

"You idiot. Of course I meant it. Of course I still love you. With all your idiocy, and all your magic, and everything. Yes, yes, of course I love you, how couldn’t I love you, you enormous clotpole. I thought I'd lost you and you're ridiculous and I love you. I love you so damn much," he said, punctuating each phrase with a new kiss, scattering them until there was not an inch of Merlin's face his lips hadn't touched. 

"You love me?" Merlin breathed. "But… also being… also like… also looking like this ?"

Arthur looked at the gorgeous man in front of him and laughed.

"Like this, Merlin, I love you more than ever."

And he kissed him on the lips again, not caring in the least that they had spectators: the knights who had caught up with them and were now circling them. If Arthur had been paying attention to something other than Merlin, he would have seen the genuine joy in their smiles. But Merlin was kissing him back, and Arthur only lived for that, for him. 

So he kissed Merlin again and again, losing himself in his arms as they finally merged together in that kind of new baptism. 

Merlin had been born again, he had returned to Arthur, and Arthur would never let him go again. 

Chapter Text

Sunsets in that part of the world were always beautiful. The sun turned the colour of fire, tinting the sky various shades of red and orange. Clouds moved across it like vermilion ghosts, painting a picture that even the best of artists could never match. Merlin had once said dreamily that, on clear days like that one, at twilight it was possible to make out on the canvas of the sky the whole palette of colours that the gods had used to design the world.

Merlin was sitting on a rock, staring up at the sky, and Arthur wondered if he might be trying to discover a new colour in the dusk. He understood Merlin's fascination for sunsets, but Arthur had always preferred the clear light of the early night. It reminded him of Merlin's eyes.

Arthur glanced at his knights, who were chatting animatedly around the bonfire at a safe distance. Only the echoes of their exclamations and their laughter reached him. With a small smile, he took a seat next to Merlin and gazed at the horizon in silence. To his right, Merlin shifted a little to get closer to him.

"Thanks for bringing my clothes. Those of my usual size, I mean. It would have been a bit awkward to have to make the return trip covered only in those rags,” Merlin said calmly.

"It would have been pretty funny," Arthur corrected with a smirk without looking at him. “But, after all, this is what we were supposed to come for. The plan was for you to come back as an adult again. And, no matter what you think, I am foresighted.. And, if I need to, I am able to pack well on my own.”

"Not that well, though. This shirt is not mine," Merlin pointed out. “I'm pretty sure I didn't have a purple one.”

"It's not purple, you idiot, it’s lilac . And it’s a gift. I thought it would look good on you.”

Merlin looked at him at last. Arthur, however, did not return his gaze. Not yet.

"What exactly happened?” he asked. “How come you are back to being your old self? You didn't get to drink any of the potion, did you?”

Merlin sighed.

“No. No, I didn't get to drink. Not a single drop. I'm not sure how it happened. It… Look, it was supposed to be a very difficult process. I’ve used ageing spells before and it wasn’t that hard coming back. The potion was quite simple, just a rejuvenating remedy. This was different. Gaius said that reversing the process would be very difficult because it involved growing. Expansion of bones, muscles and organs. Brain development. All sorts of complicated stuff.”

“So? How come your adult self just… popped up?”

“No idea. I suppose that when I saw myself in a dangerous situation, my magic acted on its own accord. It does that, sometimes. The tension, the adrenaline, the feeling of impending danger… Some of that must have triggered the transformation." He closed his eyes momentarily. "But I can't know for sure. I… I don't remember changing back, or even falling. Perhaps I got badly hurt, and my body had to change in order to heal." He fell silent, his gaze perched on the horizon. "Perhaps I died," he mused quietly. 

A shiver ran down Arthur's spine and he glanced at Merlin briefly, as if to confirm that he was really there. 

"Don't be daft, Merlin, you're here. You obviously didn't die," he said, because magic or not Merlin couldn't just die and come back. 

Merlin shook his head and smiled weakly.

"I just don't really know what happened, Arthur. Surely Gaius can explain it to you better.”

Arthur nodded, ignoring the chill in his bones.

“But I told you," Merlin continued. "Killing me is not that easy. My magic always ends up bringing me back somehow.”

"I'm starting to like that magic of yours."

The two laughed shyly, not daring to look at each other directly, like two teenagers who are just beginning to discover what love is.

"So, if you had drunk from that junk, you'd surely have returned to normal. Because either it would have worked, or your magic would have kicked your adult self out to the surface,” Arthur deduced.

"Well, thanks to you, we'll never find out."

“Oh, you’re welcome. I just saved your life.”

"Arthur, I think you just admitted that you didn't actually do such a thing."

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

"Hey, I opened my heart to you! I deserve some credit!”

"I didn't say it wasn't beautiful," Merlin grinned. “It was. And it worked. You convinced me not to drink, right?" And then he added, softer: "I didn't want you to worry about me.”

"You are stupidly noble."

"And you are stupidly stubborn."

"Look who’s talking."

The two of them laughed again, old friends and strangers at the same time.

"So. Do you remember everything that happened while you were a kid?"

“I only changed my age, Arthur. I was still me. I did not process things in the same way, and I have this strange feeling that it might have all just been a dream... But yes, I remember everything.”

Arthur was thoughtfully silent. The first stars winked at them from above.

"I'd have liked you to find out differently. I'd have liked to tell you. And explain it all well. I can do it now, if it's not too late.”

"Well, I guess it's not an easy conversation to bring up. Hi Arthur. Hey, did you know I have magic? No, now that I think about it, it would have been fun.”

Beside him, Merlin grinned widely.

"Tell me everything," Arthur asked. "Please."

And that's what Merlin did.

He talked and talked in that deep and soft voice of his that always managed to warm Arthur up from the inside. He told him of prophecies and dragons, of Freya, Balinor, Nimueh, Dragoon, and Morgana; of sacrifices and risky adventures. And Arthur listened and listened as the sky grew darker and darker and the constellations and the nearly full moon made Merlin's eyes shine like bright stars in their own right.

"My guardian angel," Arthur murmured when Merlin finished his tale. “All this time. You've been my guardian angel, and I didn’t know.”

Merlin's lips drew a tiny, sheepish smile.

"Do you usually do such overwhelming things? Earthquakes, turning into a sun, causing landslides, you know, that sort of thing.”

Merlin's shoulders shook with his silent laugh.

“No. Goodness, no. That was a complete disaster. I tend to be a lot more... subtle.”

He clasped his hands and brought them to his lips to whisper something into them. A couple of seconds later he spread his palms a little, and a firefly escaped through his fingers. It hovered above them to finally fly into the sky, perhaps recognising the stars as kin.

Arthur watched in wonder the flight of the firefly. As if they had taken on a life of their own, his fingers traced the stretch of rock that separated his hand from Merlin's. When his fingertips met Merlin's warm touch, he left his hand there. 

And they continued to contemplate the universe together, united by the warmth of that slight touch.

"Were you serious?" Merlin asked then, his voice reduced to a mere whisper.

"Hmm?"

“Do you really love me?”

"I thought I had made that clear."

“Yes. No. Now you know everything. You know who I am…”

Arthur's fingers drew patterns on the back of Merlin's hand.

"I already knew who you were. This has not changed the image I had of you. Well, yes, I mean, maybe a bit. Now I know that you are even more amazing than I thought.”

Merlin looked at him spellbound.

"So, are you serious? Do...?”

“...I love you? Of course I do. Of course I love you. I love you... How was it...? Ah yes: I love you all . All that can be loved, and then some more.”

At last, Arthur let himself fully fix his gaze on Merlin, and he tried to convey with his eyes everything he felt and could never express in words, because there were no words that could describe what Merlin made him feel. He settled for repeating it, one more time.

"Get it into your thick skull already: I love you, Merlin.”

The smile with which Merlin looked at him was brighter than the moon and the stars and the sun itself.

“Good. That’s good. Because if it's true… I mean. I love you too.” Merlin flushed deliciously, the crimson of his cheeks contrasting vividly with the pallor of his skin, which was accentuated by the clear moonlight. “I love you all .”

Arthur smiled and leaned in for a loving peck.

"I know," he said smugly. “You asked me to be your boyfriend, remember?”

"Oh. No. Oh no, I did!” Merlin buried his head in his hands, embarrassed. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

"Hey, hey, it wasn't that bad. It was pretty… straightforward,” Arthur laughed. “Gods, Merls, I almost had a heart attack.”

"Drop it, please."

“No way. You've already had enough fun at my expense. Apparently, I look like a toad, I have an enormous penis…”

“ARTHUR!”

"Had you forgotten that?"

"I wish I had," Merlin said, mortified.

Arthur laughed cheerfully.

"You have been a devilish child. You've given me such headaches.” 

"And you… you've been surprisingly good," Merlin said, blinking. "I didn't know you could be this good with children. You've been so caring. And patient."

"Even though you haven't made it exactly easy for me," Arthur joked.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said, taking his hand.

"Don't be." Arthur laced his fingers with Merlin's and squeezed. “Actually, I'm glad that you were such a huge idiot as to turn into a painfully sincere kid and be unable to fix it later.”

“Really?” Merlin said.

“Really. Until then I… Well, I hadn't realised how I really felt about you. If this hadn't happened, maybe I would have never considered... You know. It’s been an intense week."

"You're telling me that until I became a child you didn't…”

"I didn't know what I had until I lost it. Yes. I'm that thick.”

Merlin laughed. And then he got serious.

"Hey, Arthur. And Gwen?”

Arthur smiled at him.

“It’s over. I spoke to her and told her how I felt about you. She understood. She has taken it very well, actually. Unbelievably well, if I'm honest. Also, I think that Lancelot and her have chemistry .”

Merlin chuckled in surprise and smiled delightedly at him.

"You haven't left any loose ends, have you?"

“No. Unlike you, I'm quite …”

"I think the word you're looking for is clotpole.”

“No idiot. I was going to say competent.”

"Ha! Is that a joke? 'Cause it’s funny!”

“Oh yeah? Well, you are not. Idiot.”

"Dollophead."

“Idiot.”

"Your register is rather limited, Arthur."

"Oh, do you want me to try something new?"

“Be my guest.”

“Honey. Sweetheart. My love. My darling.”

“All right, all right, stop! On second thoughts, idiot is not that bad.”

“Perfect. I love you, idiot.”

"And I you, prat."

A silence filled with clasped hands, tender smiles and loving gazes.

"You don't know how glad I am to have you back.”

"I'm glad, too.”

"I was so looking forward to asking you this question..."

"What question?"

“Alright. Here it goes: Merlin, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

"Arthur! Stop laughing at me!”

“Sorry. I'm sorry, you just made it too easy!”

“I hate you so much.”

"Hating the prince is treason."

“Hm. What about hating an arse?"

Laughter, smiles, sighs.

"Seriously, Arthur. Now… now what?”

That was a good question. Their relationship would be different now, for sure, and they would have to figure out where to take that thing blossoming between them. And then there was the magic. Arthur would repeal the ban on magic, of that he was sure. Merlin deserved to be free to be who he really was. But Uther was still alive and he could get better, and then Merlin would be in danger. And if there was one thing Arthur wanted, it was to protect him at all costs, so maybe they would have to wait until Arthur was king, and who knew when that would be...

"How about... living?"

Merlin smiled brightly. 

"I like how that sounds, Arthur."

“Me too, Merlin. Me too.”

FIN.