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English
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Part 13 of Merthur's 15 Ifs of Love
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Published:
2022-05-08
Completed:
2022-06-26
Words:
1,752
Chapters:
2/2
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22
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If we could just complete our love

Summary:

"Look at him, Merlin," Arthur whispered, his voice full of raw emotion. "He's beautiful."
Merlin rested his head on Arthur's shoulder. "He is, isn't he?" He reached down, taking a lock of the baby's hair between his fingers, soft as down and the color of dandelions in springtime.

Notes:

Sorry, this took so long. I just took a quick break, but I'll hopefully be getting back into writing soon. Enjoy!

Also, you might notice that my work The Prince of Gaef Diddiwedd is no longer posted. This is not a mistake. I lost interest in the story and realized I didn't really have much of a plot lined up for it, so I decided it would be best to take it down and regroup. This isn't to say I might not revisit it in the future, though it's unlikely, but still. I'm truly sorry if this upsets anyone!

As usual I do not own Merlin!

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

After having spent practically every waking moment with the Royal Prat for nearly the past decade, Merlin liked to think himself to be an expert in all things Arthur.

He knew the exact temperature his husband liked his bath water. He could tell by Arthur's face alone if he was in a good mood or not. He knew, in sequential order, all the king's favorite tunics. He knew Arthur secretly loved Cook's raspberry tarts, but her pickled eggs had always been his favorite.

Merlin knew everything there was to know about Arthur Pendragon. This was why when Gaius had come to Merlin, in great distress, saying there was a woman in the lower town who had passed giving birth and there was nowhere for the child to go seeing as she had fallen pregnant out of wedlock, the last thing Merlin had expected his husband to do was insist on traveling down to see the newborn.

Arthur was by no means bad with children. Sure, he was hesitant and a bit unsure what to do around them, but he had never been unkind to a child in his life, not even when he had been nothing but an arrogant prince.

Yet, Arthur had never once spoken of wanting a child, not until he had confided in Merlin one stormy evening his secret yearning to be a father, the peace of the hearth and the warmth of good mead allowing words to flow between the two that neither would have ever dreamed of speaking before.

That night, he had also confessed, however, that the fear of becoming like his father was too great to ever entertain the idea of having a child, no matter how much he longed for one.

Merlin, on the other hand, couldn't remember a time in his life when he hadn't wanted a child of his own. He loved children, their joyous laughs so carefree and oblivious to the plights of the world, the sounds of their little feet running down the street as they chased one another in a sort of game.

He hadn't said it, hadn't dared to breathe a word to his king that night, but when he dreamed of having a child of his own, it was always with Arthur at his side. He, despite the blonde's doubts in himself, knew the king would be one of the best fathers any child could ask for.

Who was he to deny his king, his husband, such an innocent, heartwarming request? That was how the warlock found himself sat inside a tiny cottage in the lower town, pressed into Arthur's side, gazing down at the little wonder swaddled in a cloth and nestled in his beloved's arms.

"Look at him, Merlin," Arthur whispered, his voice full of raw emotion. "He's beautiful."

Merlin rested his head on Arthur's shoulder. "He is, isn't he?" He reached down, taking a lock of the baby's hair between his fingers, soft as down and the color of dandelions in springtime.

Arthur stroked his velvet cheek with one finger. Merlin had never seen his husband handle something with such gentleness and care.

"You know, when we got married, we promised the people we would name an heir when the time came," Arthur said softly. His cerulean eyes traveled to meet Merlin's. "Do you think it has come?"

Merlin cupped his husband's face with one hand, the other still mindlessly toying with the baby's hair. "My love, I think it would be wrong of us to deny the gift the universe has so blatantly handed us."

"Does that mean…does that mean you really want to keep him? Do you think we can even raise a child, Merlin?"

"I think he'll be the luckiest little boy in all of Albion to have you two as his fathers," Gaius said from the doorway from where he had just finished preparing the mother's body for burial.

Arthur's gaze turned back towards their small miracle as the newborn wrinkled his nose and awoke with a tiny snuffle to reveal eyes as green as the emeralds in Camelot's vaults. It was the cutest sight Merlin had ever laid eyes on.

"What shall we call him?" Merlin asked.

"Finnian," Arthur murmured after a moment, "But I was thinking Lancelot for a second name. What do you think?"

Tears welled in the raven's eyes at the mention of his late friend. "Oh, Arthur, I think it's perfect. Finnian Lancelot Pendragon."

They both watched the little boy in silence as his eyes roamed over them. Finally, Arthur spoke up, "My father once told me that a king is never happy because a good king always wants more. More land, more gold, more subjects. But, not for the first time, I think my father is a filthy liar."

He softly rubbed Finnian's belly until the boy's eyes drifted close as if it were the most natural thing he'd ever done. He then turned and kissed Merlin's temple. "I'm the happiest man alive because I've got everything I could ever want."

Chapter 2

Notes:

Hey! So, I know I said each work was going to be under a thousand words, but I got a comment with a suggestion for this story in it and I just couldn't resist. I had to write it! So, let's just say every chapter is under a thousand words, okay? 😂 Anyhow, thank you to Deathbane for this wonderful, amazing suggestion! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

Gaius had long left the little cottage by the time either of the new parents moved from gazing at their baby.

Finnian, unfortunately, was the one who broke the serene atmosphere when his little face scrunched up, and he let lose a miserable cry. Merlin bounced him gently.

"I believe someone is hungry," he said fondly. "Let's go see if we can wrangle some milk from Cook, hm, darling?"

Arthur felt nothing but absolute love swell in his heart at the sight of his husband so tenderly holding and talking to their child. Their child. The words still sounded foreign in his own head.

He thought marrying Merlin had been the happiest day of his life. Now, it was well and truly tied with this day. He couldn't quite believe he'd been so blessed twice by the gods.

"Are you coming?" Merlin asked distractedly. Arthur glanced back behind the curtain to where he knew the mother's body still laid, waiting for a proper grave to be dug. There was something he needed to do first.

"I'll be there in a little while. You go get him something to eat," Arthur said, offering Merlin a chaste kiss. He bent down and left a feather-light one on his son's forehead. "I won't let him give you all the attention for long, my prince."

Merlin shoved him towards the curtain with a fond grumble of annoyance.

As soon as he ducked behind the curtain, the feeling in the air immediately changed. The warmth and absolute joy in the air had been replaced with the heavy blanket of death.

Arthur had seen hundreds, probably thousands, of dead bodies in his life. Yet, seeing the body of this young girl whom he'd never have given a second glance to on the street, laid out on her meager cot, pale and cold, struck his heart. This was the mother of his son. She had, even unknowingly, given Arthur a gift he could never repay her for, not in a thousand lifetimes.

He knelt by her bedside and gently took one of her stiff hands from where they were folded across her stomach.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly. He hadn't the faintest idea where else to begin.

He studied her features, lax and at ease in death. She couldn't have been any older than sixteen years. Still a child herself.

Arthur felt a single tear run down his cheek. He didn't bother to wipe it away.

"I'm sorry you never got to see your son. He's such a beautiful child. He's got hair as golden as the sun and eyes as green as the grass in spring. He's a tiny little thing; he's only a little bigger than my forearm. But he's beautiful all the same, much like his mother."

Arthur smiled wryly to himself. Merlin would say he's such a secret sap.

"We named him Finnian Lancelot Pendragon. Merlin and I are going to take such good care of him. We're going to raise him like our own. He'll have the best life we can provide; I can promise you that. He'll never know the cold or hunger. He'll never know pain or fear as long as we can help it. We'll give him any and everything he could possibly need. We'll love him unconditionally."

He continued, "We'll make sure he has the best education nobility can offer. He'll be the prince of our kingdom and some day, when the time is right and he's ready, he'll be king."

He swallowed hard and choked back tears as he said his next words. "I won't be my father. I won't force him to do vile things. I won't even force him to be king if he does not wish to be so. He will never fear magic." He chuckled. "It would be difficult if he did seeing as his other father is the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth. But you needn't worry; Merlin is the kindest soul I've ever met, and I have no doubt that same kindness will be passed to our child. It will be his choice whether he wants to follow me into being a knight. If so, I will train him myself and make sure he is the noblest knight of them all. However, I will be just as proud if he chooses to follow in Merlin's footsteps and learn the beautiful art of sorcery. And yet, I will be prouder still if he chooses to plow a path of his own in the world, completely different from either of ours."

Arthur placed her hand back on her stomach. He kissed the tips of his fingers and reached out, placing them on her cheek. "But no matter what, he will always know where he came from. We will never let him forget that he had a mother. He will not have to shy away from talking about you as I did with my own mother's memory."

Another tear fell.

"And my hope is that you get to watch upon him from Avalon. You get to see him grow up just as we have been blessed to. I hope that you are proud of the man we raise. I thank you for this little blessing."

With that, Arthur went to join his husband and child, not noticing the pale gold figure of a young blonde girl standing next to the body, tears in her eyes and a joyous smile on her face.

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