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The banquet hall was too warm and too loud. There were too many people crammed in there. Arthur was laughing loudly at something the Lord seated next to him said, but Merlin wasn’t paying too much attention. He stood with his back against the wall, trying to gather the cold that was seeping from the stones. Arthur gestured with his goblet, asking Merlin to give him more wine. The jug was heavy in Merlin’s hands, and he hoped they wouldn’t shake as he poured the wine. Arthur had spent hours during the previous days insisting on how important it was that all went perfectly. As a new and untested King, Arthur was under scrutiny and any misstep could lead to a catastrophe.
Merlin’s hand didn’t shake, and he almost let out a sigh of relief, when the Lord on Arthur’s left slapped the King’s shoulder, making his arm jolt and push Merlin’s hand. Red wine spilled on the table and a few drops landed on the Lord’s lap. Merlin stared in horror as the man’s tan trousers were stained red. Arthur turned to glare at him, before his eyes landed on the Lord, whose face had become as red as the knights’ capes. He frowned furiously, and Merlin wondered for a moment if he was about to lose his head.
“Forgive my servant, he is a bit of a clumsy fool,” Arthur said, placatingly.
The Lord huffed, but simply nodded, and Merlin thought he was out of trouble. Until the man said, “I think he deserves to be punished, though. How else will he learn to become better.”
Arthur pouted, considering what to say to solve this mess. He must have known it wasn’t Merlin’s fault, the young man thought. Surely, he wouldn’t allow for Merlin to be punished too severely for this. But the King replied, “What punishment do you see fit, Lord Alexander?”
This could lead to nothing good. While Arthur’s punishments generally consisted in putting Merlin in the stocks for a few hours, Merlin knew most of the other nobles had very different ideas of what an appropriate punishment was. And this one seemed like the type to demand high retribution for the smallest offense. Merlin understood why Arthur agreed to sentence Merlin to some kind of punishment. He had to keep good relations with this Lord, as he was one of the wealthiest and most influent in the Kingdom, but to let him decide what the punishment should be was a step too far, if you asked Merlin. No one asked him, though, because he was only a servant, a lowly peasant, and therefore couldn’t have a say. He had hoped Arthur would protect him, but apparently, this Lord’s opinion was more important to him than his friend’s well-being.
Perhaps the man would only request that Merlin spent a night in the dungeon. It would be unpleasant, but Merlin had been there enough times and the guards were usually rather nice to him. They talked to him, shared jokes with him, and generally made sure he was as comfortable as possible. It was still annoying to have to spend a night in a damp, cold cell, and the floor wasn’t comfortable to sleep on, but it was far from the worst that could happen. Lord Alexander didn’t need to know that, though.
However, the man seemed to have other ideas of what the appropriate sentence for daring to stain his clothes with a few drops of wine was.
“I think his hands should be skinned. That way he’ll remember to be careful when handling things with them,” the man said imperiously.
He had delivered the sentence as if such a harsh punishment was perfectly normal. Merlin felt sick. How anyone could be so cruel was beyond him. If this was how he treated servants in his household, Merlin felt his heart ache for them.
Merlin was lucky, though. His master wasn’t Lord Alexander but King Arthur. And the monarch had different ideas on how servants should be treated. “I apologise, Lord Alexander, but I cannot grant you that request. First, because I think it is disproportionate for the offense that has been caused to you. And second because Merlin needs his hands to work. He is not only my manservant, but also the Court Physician’s assistant, and Gaius relies on him for many duties that he has become too old to accomplish. It is imperative that his punishment doesn’t prevent him from working efficiently.”
“You spoil your servants too much in my opinion, sire. But since he is at your service, I’ll abide by your rules regarding how he should be treated.”
Merlin saw Arthur’s shoulders sag in relief. He didn’t allow himself to do the same, though. There were many punishments he could be submitted to that would be painful without preventing him from doing his work. Given what the Lord had requested, Merlin imagined the man had many ideas of such cruel sentences.
“Then, I want him to spend the night in the dungeons,” the man said, and Merlin almost sighed, but there was a glint in his eyes that let him fear that wouldn’t be all. And he was proven right when, after a short pause, the man continued, “with his wrists cuffed to the ceiling so that only the tips of toes touch the floor. His arms will certainly feel sore in the morning, but he will still be able to work.”
Merlin hoped that the King would come to his defence again. Arthur might not know it, but Merlin had sustained an injury to his right shoulder while protecting Arthur from a sorcerer who wanted to murder him a few months ago. The wound had healed, but it caused him immense pain when his shoulder was put under too much strain. Arthur pondered this for a moment before he nodded. He didn’t seem pleased, but he still agreed to that.
“I thank you for your leniency, Lord Alexander.” He then gestured for the guards to come to him, and once they had arrived, he told them to take Merlin to the dungeons.
Rationally, Merlin understood. He did. To the public eye, Merlin was nothing more than Arthur’s servant. But to Merlin, Arthur was his best friend, the man he would follow to the depths of hell and back, the man he would sacrifice his life for without the blink of an eye. Before he was out of earshot, he heard Arthur said, “Sometimes, I don’t know why I keep him around, honestly. He’s more of a burden than anything else.”
At those words, something in Merlin broke. Of course, Arthur had said those words many times to Merlin, but always when they were in the privacy of the King’s chambers or out riding with his most trusted knights. Merlin didn’t mind those words when they were said in contexts where Merlin could give back as good as he got. They were all in jest, never spoken seriously or with malice. So, to hear Arthur say that to a man who had just sentenced Merlin to spend a night hanged by his wrists, it hurt more than he cared to admit.
In the morning, the guards released Merlin just in time to go to the kitchens to grab Arthur’s breakfast before heading to the King’s chambers. His shoulder hurt, and he tried to put most of the weight of the tray on his left arm. He entered Arthur’s chambers without knocking, as per usual, but the smile that usually graced his face was absent. Merlin was in pain, he hadn’t slept and his trust for Arthur had dimmed. He had hoped that the King would come see him before going to sleep, but he never came. Merlin found him sleeping peacefully in his bed, illuminated by the ray of light that seeped through a crack in the curtains. He put the tray on the table with more force than was necessary, causing the plates and goblets to rattle. He then stomped to the curtains and yanked them open. Arthur jolted awake at the commotion, looking around disoriented before his eyes landed on his servant.
For a moment, Merlin thought the King would ask him how he was, but all Arthur said was, “Maybe you should stay the night in the dungeons more often if it’s all it takes for you to be on time.”
Merlin gritted his teeth. The ache in his shoulder intensified as his muscles tensed and he had to consciously relax them. Had he been stupid to think Arthur and he were friends? Had it all been in his head? Merlin turned away from Arthur as he felt his lower lip quiver. He wouldn’t give the King the satisfaction of seeing him on the brink of tears. Arthur got up on his own and started eating his breakfast. Merlin’s stomach hurt with hunger, but he wouldn’t steal anything from Arthur’s plate. That was too close to normal, and nothing between them felt normal anymore. Merlin could feel Arthur’s eyes on him the whole time he puttered around the chambers, straightening bedsheets and sorting out clothes. He kept his mouth shut the whole time, determined not to say a word until Arthur made some sort of apology.
By the time he was done and Arthur was ready for the day, Merlin lowered his head in a slight bow and said, “Will that be all, sire?”
Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin’s politeness but didn’t say anything about it.
“Yes, you’re dismissed. You won’t be required to serve me during the meeting with Lord Alexander, but in the meantime, I want you to polish my sword and take care of my armour. Oh and clean the floor of my chambers, will you?”
Merlin’s shoulders slumped. He had hoped for a brief moment that Arthur would allow him some time to rest, but apparently, the King had no intention of doing that. Why would he, though? Merlin was just a servant, he had to work under any circumstances. Servants didn’t need rest, or consideration for the pain they might be in, after all. Without a word, he headed to the armoury.
By the time he was done with every task Arthur had assigned to him while he was occupied by meetings, Merlin’s shoulder screamed in pain. His knees and arms were sore from cleaning the floor. All he wanted was to have a break, sleep a little and eat something. But Arthur came back from his meeting before Merlin could do any of those things, and from the frown he had on his face, Merlin knew it would be a long time before he would get any rest.
“Dress me in my armour, I want to train for a bit,” Arthur said as he entered his chambers.
Merlin was still angry at Arthur, but he couldn’t help the slight flutter of his heart at Arthur’s authoritative voice. As much as he loved to laugh at Arthur and keep his head from inflating too much, he had to admit the natural authority Arthur sometimes exuded was rather attractive. Not that he found Arthur attractive, mind you. He was angry at him at the moment, anyway, so he didn’t allow himself to ponder on Arthur’s merits. The King was a prat and a clotpole.
Although he tried to dress Arthur as fast as he could, Merlin’s whole body hurt from the night spent in the dungeons and the work he had done during the day. His movements were slower than usual, and Arthur noticed it. however, instead of asking Merlin if he was alright, the King simply huffed and said, “Come on Merlin, I don’t have all day.”
With clenched teeth, Merlin pushed through the pain in his joints and tied the buckles on Arthur’s armour as fast as he could. It was only early afternoon, and already Merlin couldn’t wait for the night to come. Once he was done helping Arthur, he tried to retreat quietly, but the King interrupted his exit.
“Where do you think you’re going? I need someone to practice my aim with.”
“Can’t you ask a squire? Or another Knight? I’m sure they’d be glad to assist you, and much more competent than me,” Merlin replied. Although the words themselves weren’t different from his usual complaints, the tone in which they were spoken definitely was. Merlin was hurt and tired, and he really didn’t want to spend more time than necessary with Arthur right now. Especially if it involved holding a heavy shield for the King to throw knives at.
Arthur only smiled his prattish grin and slapped Merlin on the back, saying, “Come on, Merlin, don’t be such a girl.”
Merlin gritted his teeth, but it wasn’t like he could do much. He followed Arthur to the armoury, grabbing the heavy wooden shield and following Arthur to the practice field. When they arrived, he was mildly surprised to see Lord Alexander standing there, observing the knights go through their drills. When he saw Merlin trailing behind Arthur, the man smirked, his eyes lighting up with malicious delight. Out of spite, Merlin hold himself straighter, forcing his arm to stop quivering under the weight of the shield and trying to ignore the burning he felt in his right shoulder. He was determined not to let the noble see how much pain he was in after the punishment he was subjected to. Arthur didn’t seem to notice, though, as he instructed Merlin on where to stand and what he wanted his servant to do before throwing the first knife. It landed at the centre of the shield, and Merlin had to take a step back as he recoiled from the impact. It went on for what seemed to be hours, sweat sliding down Merlin’s back in fat drops.
Ultimately, Arthur got bored and retreated to his chambers, asking Merlin to draw him a bath. Merlin didn’t say a word as he went to fetch the water. His arms and shoulders were so sore they almost became numb, and he knew having to carry heavy buckets of water up the stairs wouldn’t make it any better. Lord Alexander would leave the next morning, though, and that was the only thing Merlin had to cling to. By the time Arthur was clean and in his sleepwear, Merlin had given up all hopes of the King inquiring about his well-being. Despite Merlin’s previous delusion that he and Arthur were friends, the King truly didn’t seem to care. As he was dismissed for the night, Merlin made his way back to his own room with heavy limbs and a heavier heart.
The next morning, after Lord Alexander had been sent off, Merlin tried to quench the remaining ambers of hope that still lingered in his soul. Foolishly, he still expected that Arthur would ask how he was feeling, now that the Lord was gone. But he didn’t. Merlin bumped into Gwen as he walked down a corridor in the castle, holding a basket of Arthur’s dirty laundry. He usually carried it with his right arm, but his shoulder hurt so much that he couldn’t do so. The barest movement sent a burning sensation from his shoulder to the tip of his fingers and any weight or strain put on his right arm made him feel like his shoulder was screaming in agony. Merlin had missed talking to Gwen when they passed each other like that, but he was in no mood for small talk and he surely didn’t want to dampen Gwen’s happiness.
The other servant was much too perceptive, though, and asked Merlin if he was fine. At first Merlin attempted to smile and give his customary complaint about how much of a clotpole Arthur was, but it sounded hollow, even to his own ears.
“Out with it,” Gwen scolded him gently as she took his arm and guided him to a stone bench in an alcove.
Merlin rubbed at his face with his hands, feeling tired and empty, and the words poured out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I thought Arthur was my friend, but he only sees me as a bothersome servant. He even told so to Lord Alexander when I was taken to the dungeons the night of the feast. And yesterday he didn’t stop once to ask me if I was fine, he even went out of his way to give me the most strenuous tasks. I’m not even angry at that point, Gwen, I’m just… disappointed.”
“Oh, Merlin,” Gwen said, wrapping her arms around Merlin’s shoulders. They stayed like that for a long time, Merlin wrapping his own arms around Gwen’s waist, allowing himself to enjoy the comfort the embrace provided. “He cares about you, you know. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”
On a normal day, he would have believed those words, but Arthur’s callousness had hurt him too much. He still loved the King deeply, and he cursed his heart for that, but the trust in their bond that he previously had had been destroyed.
“I’ll talk to him,” Gwen whispered in Merlin’s ear, and even though the young man didn’t think it would change anything, he still appreciated his friend’s support.
The conversation with Gwen had lifted a weight from his chest, and he went about his day with a lighter heart. He still didn’t think his and Arthur’s relationship could be mended. He didn’t even know if there was anything to mend at all or if had all been in his head after all, but he knew that he at least had friends who cared about him.
That evening, when he entered the King’s chambers to help him out of his armour and into more comfortable clothes for dinner, Merlin was surprised to find that food had already been brought and the table had been set for two.
“I didn’t know you would be eating with a guest tonight, sire,” Merlin said, trying to conceal the hurt in his voice. There were candles and flowers on the table. Did Arthur invite a woman he intended on courting? Why hadn’t he told anything to Merlin, then? Friends or not, Arthur used to always tell him this kind of things. And even though it always made his heart ache, he knew his feelings for Arthur were unrequited, he had accepted that a long time ago, and he appreciated the fact that Arthur confided in him about his infatuations.
Arthur was standing before the fireplace, pacing nervously. At Merlin’s words, he sharply turned to face the servant, his face becoming as red as his cape. Merlin really hoped he hadn’t said the wrong thing and attracted the King’s ire on him. But Arthur didn’t look angry. He looked embarrassed and had a sheepish expression on his face.
“I wanted to apologise. Gwen informed me that I hadn’t treated you the way a good friend should, and I really should have realised in on my own. I’ve been behaving like the prat you always say I am, and for that I am deeply sorry.”
Merlin stared at Arthur with wide eyes. He watched as Arthur looked down and swallowed thickly. Some part of Merlin wanted to run to the King and hug him, tell him that it was all forgiven. But another, bigger part of him refused to let it slide so easily.
“So what, Arthur? You think you can treat me like shit and then just say sorry? You think that makes it all okay? It doesn’t!” Merlin said, his voice getting incrementally louder. “You told Lord Alexander that I was a burden as I was taken to the dungeons. Yes, I heard that, Arthur. And then the next day you act like nothing ever happened? What were you thinking? Don’t you realise that I’m human too? Servants aren’t just machines there to serve you without regard for their well-being, I thought you had finally understood that. But apparently I was mistaken. Or do you know that but only choose not to apply that knowledge when it comes to me?
“I’m human, Arthur, I get hurt and tired, and I think I deserve some respect. I think I deserve to be cared about. I thought we were friends. But the way you treated me these last few days…” he trailed off, tears streaming down his face. “I was your friend. All I ever wanted was to see you safe and happy, and I thought you felt the same, but apparently, I was wrong. Should have realised it sooner, though. You never even noticed when I got injured in the past.” Merlin’s voice had lowered to a whisper, shoulders slumped and head tilted down. He looked utterly defeated.
Arthur reached Merlin in three strides, engulfing the servant in a tight embrace. Merlin tried to resist and push Arthur away, but he ended up sagging in Arthur’s arms. “I’m so sorry, Merlin,” Arthur whispered against his ear. After a few seconds, he turned his head and pressed a light kiss to Merlin’s temple. “I’m so sorry.” He tightened his hold on Merlin before he registered something else that Merlin had said during his rant. “How did you get injured?” he asked with a frown.
Merlin shrugged, “there are too many instances and it really isn’t the point right now. But a few months ago, I was stabbed in the shoulder while I was fighting an assassin who wanted to kill you. It healed well, but when I put too much weight on it or strain the muscles so much, it still hurts. That night in the dungeons made me very sore, and all the tasks you gave me the next day really didn’t help.”
“Why were you fighting an assassin? That’s not your job, Merlin. I have knights and guards for that.”
Merlin snorted humourlessly. “If you had only them to protect you, you’d be dead ten times over. And it is my job to protect you.”
Arthur stepped back, holding Merlin by the shoulders, “Merlin, I appreciate all the things you do for me, you make my life infinitely easier, and you make my days happier. But your job isn’t to protect me.”
Shaking his head, Merlin said, “It really is. It’s literally my destiny to protect you, Arthur.”
Merlin had taken his decision. He was a broken man with a shattered heart. He had sacrificed so much for his King; his physical health, his innocence, his sanity, even his morals. It was time for it to come to an end, one way or another. He couldn’t maintain this façade much longer. And Arthur deserved to know. Anyway, Merlin had reached a point of no return. If Arthur couldn’t accept him for all he was, Merlin’s destiny had no meaning.
“What?” Arthur asked.
But Merlin had already taken another step back. extending one hand, he whispered, “Forbearne”, and a small fire began burning in his open palm. He heard Arthur’s gasp at the display of magic, but he didn’t care anymore. Merlin sank to his knees, looking up at Arthur. “I have magic, and I use it to protect you. All I have, all I am, is yours, my body, my heart, my magic. I’d give my life for you, Arthur.”
Arthur dropped to his knees in front of Merlin, taking Merlin’s hands in his. When Merlin’s eyes met his, Arthur smiled sadly at him. “I’m sorry for all you went through on your own. As your friend, I should have been by your side, just as you have all those years.” He lifted Merlin’s hand to his lips and kissed each of Merlin’s knuckles.
“Arthur-” Merlin croaked. He didn’t know what he meant to say, only that he hadn’t expected this turn of events, and now he felt completely lost.
Arthur stood up, helping Merlin back to his feet. His hands never letting go of Merlin’s. “I need you by my side, Merlin,” Arthur whispered, “and I want to be by your side, too.” Arthur pressed his lips to Merlin’s cheek, and when Merlin didn’t push him away, he felt bold enough to kiss Merlin’s lips. It was short and light, almost inquiring.
“I love you, Arthur,” Merlin said, before taking a step back, “but I need time. The way you treated me, it hurt more than you can imagine. I can’t start something new with you when what we used to have has been shattered like that.”
Nodding Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand once before letting go. “I understand. If you’ll allow me, I would like nothing more than to try mending what I so foolishly broke with my actions. Please, have dinner with me.”
Merlin smiled. He could say all he wanted about Arthur, the prat knew how to be charming. “With pleasure,” he said, as he took a seat at the table.
They began eating in silence. It wasn’t a tense silence, but it wasn’t as comfortable as it used to. And then Arthur said, “Also, my schedule happens to be clear tomorrow, and I’d like to spend the day with my best friend, doing whatever he’d like.”
In that moment, Merlin knew they would be alright eventually. It might take time, but he was certain now that Arthur valued and loved him. He wasn’t yet ready to forget what had happened and the hurt he had felt, but he had no doubt that the day would come where all would be alright.