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Just one moment was all he needed to mess everything up. Arthur had known that for a very long time.
Growing up with as strict of a father as Uther, he knew that being anything but not perfect wouldn’t suffice. And so, he had done his best to be the perfect son, the perfect knight, the perfect prince that he could be. Even when he suffered from nightmares after battles, even if he could still hear the screams of the sorcerers he had killed, even if he could still see the terror in those children’s eyes.
Arthur was always meant to be the dutiful son, the perfect prince, and someday, a steadfast king. With a wife preferably and not the knights he looked at longingly for too long or the ones he thought of at night when he couldn’t sleep. Even if he was slowly falling apart and the hatred and the anguish swallowed him whole, he knew that if he ever said or did anything out of line, it would be the end for him.
The one moment he took a step off the pedestal that everyone including himself had put him on, everything would crumble around him.
And so, he kept to his usual patterns, treated the civilians like dirt as if that would somehow put fear into their eyes, fought in every tournament and every battle, and agreed with his father, as if to possibly keep the inevitable from happening.
And then he came. The insolent, annoying village boy who somehow turned into his manservant in less than a week.
And slowly everything began to crumble around him, one that Arthur hoped wouldn’t be the end of him. Arthur wouldn’t say that he liked Merlin, per say. He couldn’t really stand for his funny ears. Nor for his sarcastic jibes, his cutting remarks, his witty jokes. He didn’t like how he called Arthur out for his childish and immature behaviors (even if he was right, Arthur would be damned if he ever agreed to them out loud.)
He didn’t like his hair, his weird…scarf thing that looked better suited for a child. He didn’t like the fact that he was clearly some country boy with no experience with the outside world.
Suffice to say, he wasn’t the biggest fan of this… weird man. And yet, he had a feeling that there was something about him, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
He decided it must be the fact that Merlin was very, very strange. Not just in the way he acted (although that was very strange, whether it was bashing his head in while he was enchanted or lying to Arthur about his friend being a nobleman) but in the way he spoke to nobility in general. Merlin didn’t seem to care about classes or about societal standards. Merlin seemed to be living in a different world, and although Arthur could just as easily find a way to remove this certain… quirk from him (as his father kept suggesting) Arthur didn’t mind it as much. It became almost like a game, a way for him to flex his mind and get back at this equally infuriating man.
Arthur would find himself up at night sometimes, planning the next day out with what jabs and what counter moves he could use for every quick-witted response Merlin had waiting.
It wasn’t like he liked him or anything, he didn’t like bickering with this man-child or weirding out the people around him. He especially didn’t like Merlin–he would much rather put himself in the stocks than be around him for more than two minutes.
It was just… fun to rile him up. It was fun to have an adversary, fun to find ways of dismantling Merlin’s arguments and feel like a victor. Fun to be normal. And so even though there were many times Arthur disliked being around Merlin, hated it almost for how useless he could be, he realized that the only use Merlin truly was to him was for his wit, and he might as well put it to good use.
So yes, Arthur hadn’t fired his manservant almost immediately despite never being able to hold a manservant for more than two weeks. He didn’t send him to the dungeons or have him flogged as most other masters would’ve done. And yes, from time to time, he even joked back with him, even cracked a smile.
But that was all because Merlin was useless otherwise, and why keep a jester around if not for the fun?
But truly, Arthur didn’t like him. Not one bit. And as soon as he got over this annoying quirk of Merlin’s, he would do what everyone already suspected he would eventually do: fire him.
Arthur groaned as he massaged his temples with his hands. If it hadn’t been for Merlin, they wouldn’t be stuck like they were right now: between a rock and a hard place.
It had all started when his father had insisted that he set out on a quest to investigate a mysterious magical creature they were meant to kill. It was a boar shaped animal that was apparently wreaking havoc in the forests.
Arthur had set out with a few of his trusted knights and of course, Merlin, in the hopes of finding this creature. But of course, such was his life, they never found the creature–the only thing they found was a random path that led them farther and farther away from Camelot and no clear way back to their home.
The rest of the knights had been split up from Merlin and Arthur and with the darkness of the sky and the fog loitering in the air, there was no way for them to find their way back. They had tried earlier and had nearly died when Merlin almost tumbled off the edge of a cliff, where they just happened to be next to.
So, they were stuck taking shelter in a cave with a small fire going, unsure what to do next.
And so, Arthur did what he did best: blame Merlin for everything.
“Explain to me again why this is all my fault,” Merlin said in response as he added another piece of wood to the fire.
“Because you’re just bad luck,” Arthur replied after a moment, coming up with an excuse on the spot. “Whenever you’re around, bad things seem to happen.”
“Are you sure that’s not just you?” Merlin retorted. “It seems like whenever we’re in a mess, it’s because of your own doing.”
“Merlin, for the millionth time, I’m the best knight in all of Camelot. If there was a curse, I would surely be able to beat it in one-on-one combat.”
His manservant simply rolled his eyes. “Or perhaps you wouldn’t notice the curse because it was hiding under all of that arrogance you have.”
“Well perhaps you aren’t seeing the bloody curse that you have because you’re too lazy and stupid to tell what it would look like.”
“Well maybe you–”
Before Merlin could finish his sentence, the crackling of lighting sounded from the sky. Arthur groaned once more, going back to massaging his temples, as Merlin put the last of their dry pieces of wood into the fire.
“Well, we should probably go outside and grab more wood before the storm soaks the rest of it.”
“Who’s saying ‘we’? Last time I checked, I’m the prince and you’re the manservant.”
“So, you’d rather be here alone, with no chance of survival should I not return, then come with me to ensure I’m safe?”
Arthur shrugged. “I can always find a new manservant.” But he followed him anyway, because he was sure as hell not going to find another one that actually talked back to him.
The two hurried to grab more wood as quickly as possible before finding their way back to the cave just as the storm broke. The dimming fire immediately crackled when Merlin threw another piece in and sooner or later, they had the fire going again, thankfully so they could keep warm.
“Thanks,” Merlin said after they had warmed up a little. “For going with me. I would’ve surely died.”
“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin.”
“Maybe don’t be such an arse, Arthur,” Merlin said, “And just take the thanks.”
Arthur was silent, finding no words that would lead to a good response. Merlin, thinking the conversation was over, draped his bedroll down onto the smooth cave floor.
“Thanks,” Arthur finally said. “For the thanks.” He was blushing for some odd reason, but thankfully Merlin didn’t say anything about it.
The rain fell only harder, the sound muffled by the roof of the cave. Although the entrance was still open and some droplets came into their cave, it was the best place to camp out for the night. And despite the rocky terrain and the fact that they were still completely lost, they were hopeful in having the entire day tomorrow to find their way back to Camelot. Perhaps neither of them had a curse and it was simply them being grumpy.
“This reminds me of Ealdor,” Merlin said suddenly, quietly, as if he didn’t expect Arthur to hear. Or to care.
But surprising even himself, he laid down on his bedroll that lay beside Merlin and turned to look at him.
“The nights that it rained–especially in the summertime when it would get so hot outside the crops would dry–were the best nights. Me and mum would lay on the floor beside each other to keep warm and she’d read me bedtime stories when I couldn’t sleep. And sometimes when neither of us could sleep, we would just listen to the rain falling onto our roof, the soft pudder sound that would last the entire night.”
“It sounds nice,” Arthur murmured quietly even though it was just the two of them alone in that cave, nothing but the plop sounds of the rain and the whoosh sounds of the wind. “Warm.”
(This moment felt awfully warm to him too, but Arthur dared not say that.)
Merlin looked up at him, his blue eyes swimming with warmth and content. “Yeah, it was.”
“You miss your mother,” he said plainly.
Merlin nodded. “Although I’m sure she doesn’t miss me. I was such a handful to raise–I’m finally starting to understand what she went through whenever I have to deal with you.”
“Merlin, has anyone ever told you what an amazing court jester you would be?”
He smiled. “Only you and yet you’ve never told anyone else. I think it’s just because you would miss me.”
Arthur laughed out loud at that. “Oh, you wish.”
The two were silent for a moment, lost in thought, listening to the quiet noises of the world.
“You should take a few days off, go visit her,” Arthur said before he could stop himself.
“I did just recently when we went to save Ealdor.”
“Yes, but you didn’t really get a chance to spend time with her. And I’m sure if you miss her then she probably misses you too.”
Merlin stared at Arthur while the prince did everything in his power not to look at him. Arthur had no idea what was going on with him, why he cared so much about his manservant, even allowing him time off. If his father or anyone else heard about this they would probably find it utterly ridiculous that the crowned prince wanted to care for his manservant, even help his manservant. He decided he would stop thinking for a moment because thinking made it feel like a bigger moment than it was. It was similar to when Arthur had saved his life after Merlin had taken poison for him. He was only doing what a good prince would do, protect and care for his citizens.
After a moment of staring at him, Merlin’s face quickly grew into his comically goofy grin. Arthur’s heart puddered similarly to the rain outside, and Arthur did everything in his power not to smile back.
“It seems like maybe you aren’t such a prat after all,” he said.
“I was never a prat.”
“Well, now, I wouldn’t necessarily say that.”
“Merlin, I think you’re just attempting to hide your own prattness by calling me one.”
“Okay, yup, now I know for sure that you’re a prat. A supercilious one at that.”
The two looked at one another for a moment before laughing quietly to themselves. And Arthur, despite all that had happened during their unsuccessful trip, felt the calmest he had ever felt.
Perhaps it was the normalcy of it all, the comfortableness of it. That somehow their bickering had almost become a new home to the two of them, a new place to go when everything became too much.
And as Arthur closed his eyes and fell asleep, he felt the feeling of warmth envelop him despite the cold air outside.
In the morning when the storm passed, he and Merlin stumbled onto a magical creature Arthur had never seen before. A white unicorn, minding its own business, the entire creature glistening like a halo in the bright sky.
The two of them both watched as the unicorn galloped away, its tail swaying back and forth. They later found the rest of the knights on their way back to Camelot and neither of them talked about what happened that night, that silent connection they somehow made in the darkest of moments.
They continued to bicker and hate one another, Arthur throwing things whenever possible and Merlin always complaining. But some seemed to gather that there was a level of care that was attached to each of their conversations, a level of tension that neither of them dared to speak about.
Especially Morgana who had cornered Arthur after Merlin had left to visit his mother, raising an eyebrow that would rival Gaius himself.
“What is it that you want, ‘Gana?”
“You haven’t sacked Merlin yet.”
“Very perceptive of you.”
“You saved his life when he was poisoned–”
“–Only because he saved my life,” he said, cutting her off.
“You went with us to defeat the bandits that were in Ealdor.”
Arthur sighed. “Anything else you would like to make abundantly clear?”
“When exactly are you going to admit that you care about him?”
Arthur groaned. “Morgana, I do not care about him.”
“Really now?” she said, placing her hand on her hip. It was a move she constantly did whenever she was in the mood to condescend or mock him and he had no time for it. He was doing a very good job of not thinking about Merlin and having Morgana in his face about it was not helping.
“Yes, Morgana, I do not care about him. He’s merely my manservant and that’s it. Now are there any other things you wish to speak to me about?”
Morgana simply rolled her eyes. Her voice became a little smaller as she finally said, “I know that because of Uther, you’re terrible at telling people how you feel. And I know for certain you won’t ever tell me that you actually care about him. But I’m just saying, whenever you get the chance, you should tell him. I’m sure he would like to hear it.”
Swallowing, Arthur ignored the redness of his cheeks or the shaking of his hands. “Morgana, please close the door on your way out.”
She shook her head but nodded. “Just… listen to what I said, for once. I just want you to know there’s nothing to be ashamed about caring for someone.” And with that, she closed the door.
Arthur coughed as if that would release the tension from the room, taking a deep breath in and out until finally his hands stopped shaking. He tried to focus on the papers in front of him, the very important and serious papers that were in need of looking over from the council meeting, but he just couldn’t give it any thought.
Damnit Morgana, he thought to himself. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
Obviously, he didn’t hate Merlin anymore, but it wasn’t like they were becoming friends or something. Or anything more than that, obviously. He was just being nice; he was just being a good master. Clearly, Morgana didn’t understand that. Clearly, she was just saying random things to rile him up, just as she always did.
With that, he looked back at his papers, sighing. Yes, everything was absolutely, perfectly fine.
Funny enough, the exact moment Arthur realized he had feelings for Merlin was the exact moment he found out about his magic.
The two were out on a hunting trip, just the two of them, as they had been doing for some time. Arthur had started going on them because of the stress of his responsibilities (and his weird fuzzy feelings, although he tried very hard to ignore those) and getting some fresh air usually did the trick, even if it involved having Merlin by his side. Since of course he couldn’t say all of that to his father, he simply said that he was just going on a hunting trip, which allowed him to get out whenever he wished for it.
And even though his messy feelings were with Merlin, he still secretly enjoyed being around him. He still wanted to be around him despite being confused about him at almost every turn.
But at the moment, he really didn’t want to be around him. Because Merlin was talking about Gwen, as he had recently begun doing whenever they had been going on these hunts. It wasn’t like Merlin and Gwen were anything other than friends (although Morgana often teased about Gwen’s ‘secret’ crush she had on Merlin back in the day), it was simply that Merlin really liked Gwen and really liked talking about her.
Arthur had briefly known Gwen as Morgana’s servant but also recently from her nearly being executed for having magic, for her help at Ealdor, and for her father’s passing. She seemed like a sweet person, one that clearly Morgana and Merlin cared deeply about, and Arthur could say he was quickly starting to feel the same way. But that didn’t stop this weird feeling of hurt and betrayal whenever Merlin droned on about her, as if she was simply a goddess herself who could not be touched. It was aggravating because he wanted to be seen like that, he wanted Merlin to talk about him for hours, and think of him all the time.
Perhaps Merlin had been right about Arthur’s arrogance and self-centeredness. But he didn’t care. He just wanted Merlin to also see him the same amount that he saw Gwen, and that was really confusing because last he checked he was a prince who didn’t need his manservant to validate him.
And that’s when he could no longer pretend anymore that he didn’t care about him or that he was simply being a good person.
It turned out, there might be something to what Morgana was saying. Perhaps, indeed, he did… maybe, sort of care for Merlin. And maybe more than just a friend.
Just as he seemed to realize this, it seemed his horse was just as horrified by the revelation, because she fell back, making weird noises and grunts. Not prepared for her to fall back, he fell down to the rocky ground. Or, should he say, he hovered over the ground for a moment before being gently placed onto said ground.
He whipped around quickly, his hand already reaching for the hilt of his sword, only to see his manservant’s eyes–the eyes of the man he just realized he had feelings for–change from a brilliant gold to a sorrow-filled, horror-struck blue.
And that was the moment he thought everything had crashed then, the moment he thought he had lost everything completely. The exact moment that he realized he failed his father, his people, his kingdom by not realizing sooner that the man he liked was the same man who had magic.
He thought he had fallen to his knees with how weak they were, wobbling with fear. Merlin himself swallowed, biting his lip and wringing his hands in terror, something he had never seen in his manservant despite having been in many terrifying scenarios before.
They stared at each other for a moment before Merlin finally said, “I’m sorry. I was born with it.” He seemed to break Arthur out of the daze as he finally broke his gaze away from his manservant.
“W-we should head back,” Arthur said, tugging on his horse and passing Merlin along the way. Merlin said nothing back, just nodding before finding his own horse.
The ride back was subdued, quiet. It had never been like this before between them. At least, not since they met. Neither one of them spoke but both minds were whirling with thoughts and fears and the inevitability of Camelot awaiting them.
The light from the sky waned as the day dragged on and their thoughts flowed until finally it was nighttime and Arthur stopped his horse and made for camp. He knew once they got back to Camelot, everything changed. He needed a moment to talk to Merlin before that–before he decided what exactly to do.
Merlin complied, tying his horse steady, and reaching for his bag to find extra wood for the fire. While Merlin quietly went around feeding the horses and making the food, Arthur watched how he worked. Usually Merlin was all hustle bustle, barely any quiet to him. He was loud and boisterous; his smiles were as big as his mouth. Even if there was no one around him, he would hum to himself while he made himself busy. Merlin had always been all smiles and loudness and life itself and seeing him work quietly made Arthur’s heart break despite the hurt he still felt.
He had come to the conclusion while riding his horse that he understood why Merlin had lied. He wasn’t so mad about that because of course, he was the son of the man who had executed millions of sorcerers. If he had been in Merlin’s place, Arthur would have done the same.
What confused him was why. Why he decided to stay in Camelot with full knowledge of what was happening. Why he decided to risk his life to live here, why he had saved his life in the first place and accepted the role of being his servant. None of it made any sense to him.
Because that’s what truly confused him. He thought he would be mad at Merlin. He spent the entire ride wanting to be mad at him because he had lied, because he had ruined his life, because just as he was admitting the truth to himself, another much darker truth was being revealed to him.
But Arthur wasn’t mad that Merlin had kept this from him, knowing who he was. He was scared. Not of Merlin, but of what this meant for his entire life, what it meant for his father, what it meant for… everything.
Arthur had spent his entire life being told to hate magic, and he had. He had been told his entire life to kill all creatures of magic, and so he did. He had been told all his life to never befriend a sorcerer, never trust one, and so he hadn’t.
And yet here was, having trusted one, even catching feelings for one. And it made him remember those blood-curdling screams of the sorcerers he was ordered to kill, remembered those innocent children with their wide eyes and tears falling down their face, remembering the violence he had been told to inflict on others and how he had just done it without hesitation. Because he thought he was doing the right thing, because he thought that his father and his people would love him if he did so, because he thought that was what being a good prince was about.
And now he had been wrong.
Merlin had crashed his world around him, ruined the pedestal that he had been lifted onto and crushed his hopes of ever being the perfect prince, of ever being able to have the love and the validation from his father. But perhaps it was good his world was falling apart now. Maybe it was good he had learned the truth, maybe it was good that he was remembering the innocent people’s lives he had taken. Maybe by realizing he was wrong; he could start to do actual good now.
And so instead of hurling accusations at Merlin, instead of hating him when he had no idea what magic even was, he simply said: “I knew you were cheating when we first met.”
Merlin looked at him with shocked wonder, completely in disbelief at his words. He didn’t blame him, Arthur himself was half convinced he had gone mad. But in that instance, it all made sense to him, the magic, everything. His world was filled with rubble and debris but also understanding and guilt and anger and sadness. “I was also right when I said there was something about you.”
Merlin hesitatingly smiled. “I guess you were.”
“Why did you come to Camelot?” he asked, the curiosity finally taking hold. “Why of all places come here when you have magic? And you were born with it?”
Merlin nodded. “Mum told me stories of how I could make everything fly when I was just a babe. How I scared her every time she couldn’t watch me. I was apparently a hassle to deal with, and as I grew older, my magic only grew stronger. And then there was a breaking point when she found out my best friend, Will, knew about my magic. Terrified of what would happen if others found out, she sent me to Gaius’s, begging him to give me some help and set me straight. And well… that’s how I came to Camelot.”
“But surely once your mother found out about what Camelot was, she sent you back, right?”
Merlin shook his head. “I couldn’t leave even if she wanted me to. There were bigger things that lay ahead for me.”
“Like what?”
He turned then to look at Arthur. “Like you.”
It seemed as if time froze for a moment, a shiver running down his spine. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, before asking, “What do you mean?”
“The Once and Future King,” Merlin said proudly. “The one man that will bring back magic and restore the realm to its rightful, balanced place. That man is you, Arthur. And once I found out that it was your destiny to bring magic back and that it was my destiny to help you, I realized that this was what my life was always leading up to. To finally be able to save innocent people, to finally right the wrongs that have been going on for years.”
Arthur had never before met someone as selfless and as good as Merlin in his life. That was the first thought he had. It was the last breaking point in his realization that magic couldn’t be bad because Merlin couldn’t be bad. Guilt and pain and despair clung to him until he finally choked out the words, “I’m sorry.”
Merlin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Shouldn’t… I be saying that?”
“I’ve killed a lot of sorcerers, Merlin,” he said, the words finally spilling out of him. “I’ve… I’ve always thought they were evil, that they were wrong. I… I’ve told you so many times how much I hated magic and you still stayed… I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt you so much.”
Merlin’s mouth parted before he shook his head, gently smiling. “I know, Arthur, and I understand the guilt you must feel. But you were brought up this way, you were told by the people that this was right, that killing sorcerers was good. And even though I know it won’t be enough for you, I know you’re a good person. And I knew you could change. And you can still do good, Arthur, you can still right the wrongs you’ve committed yourself.”
Arthur blinked back tears, taking a deep breath. “You really think so?”
Merlin nodded. “It may take them some time, but if you prove it to them… you can.”
Arthur blinked back tears, nodding his head. “Thank you, Merlin.”
Arthur recalled the unicorn they had seen months ago and decided that Merlin wasn’t too far off from it. He looked at his pale skin, his blue eyes, his dark hair, and thought in that instance how beautiful he looked, how the moon’s light made his eyes sparkle and his hair shimmer. Arthur recalled how magnificent Merlin truly was, and just how lucky he had been to meet someone as brilliant as him.
“Well, I have to say,” Merlin said finally, breaking the silence, “I’ve imagined this for months now, and I never imagined myself revealing my magic in such a… lame way.”
Arthur couldn’t help but laugh. “You revealed it in such a you way, it honestly makes so much sense.”
Merlin jokingly pushed him, rolling his eyes. And then they were back to they always were, except his manservant was also a sorcerer. Something that within time, Arthur could become used to.
They would later find out about Morgana’s magic and with the help of Merlin, he would teach her every night on how to control it. Arthur, Morgana, and Merlin, wanting to help magic users even if they couldn’t outright save them against Uther, planned ways of helping them escape. Word traveled fast that Arthur Pendragon was against his father’s beliefs and, as Merlin put it, were starting to have hope again.
And Arthur, to his surprise, was starting to have hope again too.
Arthur had realized one thing over the past few years since he had met Merlin: there was something always happening.
There were never any calm days, never any normal days. Every day was filled with some sort of drama, some sort of chaos. Nothing could ever be normal.
But today, it seemed, was going to be normal. Some nobles were going to have dinner with them, there would be a show, and then said nobles would be on their way and everything would be fine as per usual.
That is, until he realized that his father wanted him to spend… more time than usual with one of the girls. Because, as he quickly realized, his father was attempting to marry him off.
Her name was Elena with blonde hair and brown eyes and a weird, weird personality. She burped quite often, said strange things, and clumsily fell almost anywhere she went. She reminded him of Merlin a little bit, except for the fact that she was a noblewoman, and oh right, the obvious: he wasn’t in love with her.
After spending the day with her, Arthur had decided to sulk in his bedroom, horrified but what he would have to do. He tried to envision himself marrying her and every time he flinched, trying to make the images go away. He had never wanted to have an arranged marriage. Although his father had been lucky with his match, Arthur knew for certain there was only one person he would want. Even if he could never have them.
Speaking of the devil and he doth appear, Merlin walked into the room just then, bringing trays of food with him. “Your dinner, sire,” he said formally for once, gently placing the plates on the table.
Arthur, not used to Merlin’s professionalism, slowly eyed him as he got up from his bed and moved to his chair. “Is something the matter with you?”
Merlin simply shook his head. “No, everything’s fine, sire. Is there anything else you need?”
“Merlin,” Arthur said almost exasperatedly.
“Yes?”
“Stop saying ‘sire’, it's giving me a headache.”
“Will do, sire. I mean, sorry, si–”
“Merlin, what the blazes is going on with you!” Arthur stared at him incredulously as if that would solve the puzzle for him.
Merlin tried to shake his head, continuing with his lies, but when Arthur raised his eyebrows, he finally lamented, sitting himself down in the chair across from him. “Are you really going to go through with this marriage?”
Arthur grimaced, knowing this would be where the topic would lead him. Even though he didn’t want to talk about it, he was curious as to what Merlin thought about the circumstances. So, he sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know. I do need a match, that’s for certain. But I don’t really like… marrying someone because I have to rather than marrying someone because I want to.”
“You should do whatever you want,” Merlin said quickly, nodding his head. “Whatever you think is right.”
“And what do you think is right?”
Merlin looked up at him quickly, his tips of his ears turning red. “What do you mean?”
“Do you think I should marry her?”
Merlin was tense for a moment before he finally shrugged. “She seems… sweet. And nice.”
“Merlin,” Arthur groaned. “You won’t be insulting me if you say bad things about her. This is a safe place, or whatever.”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter whatever I think anyway. You said you didn’t want to marry for love. Do you love her? Or do you think you could ever love her at least?”
He knew the answer, even if it disappointed him. Although he should be happy–another way to go against his father, another way to not be so perfect anymore–he was scared. Because it meant that his father would know that he had declined, that he would know that he refused. He wouldn’t be able to escape like beforehand, his father would know instantly.
“Look, I know you’re scared, but you aren’t alone, Arthur,” Merlin said, reaching for his hand. Arthur gave it to him without even thinking, needing the feel of his comfort. “You have all of us that will be here for you, whatever you decide to do.”
Somewhere deep inside of him, a confidence he hadn’t had beforehand came out, and he found himself asking, “What would you do if I married her?” He was staring directly at him when he asked, and he needed to know. He needed to know whether he felt the same way as him. He knew nothing could happen, nothing could ever happen between them, and yet it didn’t stop him from still asking, from still longing for an answer to his question.
Merlin swallowed then and he knew, even before he spoke, what his answer would be. Merlin’s eyes flickered down to his lips for a moment before looking back at his eyes, his cheeks blushing. “I think you know, Arthur.”
Arthur slowly leaned in, and Merlin did the same, neither one thinking it through. Even though his father could walk in at any moment, even though Merlin had magic of all things that could ruin them should it ever be revealed, even though he was technically meant to marry another, still, all Arthur wanted to do was kiss him.
Arthur moved closer, wanting to close the bridge between the two of them and Merlin did the same, mimicking his movements.
And then Morgana busted on the door and proceeded to let herself right in, both boys immediately jumping away blushing profusely.
“Guess what just happened—whoa, did I just miss something?” Morgana added the last part, looking at both of their faces.
“No, everything’s fine, what just happened?” Arthur asked, quickly changing the subject.
Morgana paused for a moment but seeing as how excited she was, she didn’t seem to need to take much more convincing than that. She then quickly told them of an old friend that would be visiting soon and how father, for once, had told her he wasn’t planning on setting her up with anyone. It was truly a miracle considering Arthur’s circumstances.
When she left, an awkward tension lay in the room, nearly swallowing them whole. Arthur tried to cough but it only seemed to make it worse by Merlin’s gaze latching onto his.
Finally, Merlin simply said, “I understand.”
Arthur sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I wish there was another way but—”
“It’s your duty to Camelot, I understand.” And yet it still left him great pain to lose Merlin in this way.
“Merlin, it’s not only that, I mean, if my father found out—”
“I would be a dead man,” Merlin laughed and yet there was no joy in it. “Either way, I’ll be getting my head chopped off if the king ever finds out.”
“Merlin…”
“Arthur, I told you, it’s okay. I understand.”
Arthur bit his lip, confusion and anger and loathing consuming him. He knew that reasonably they could never be together—he had known this fact since he had first realized his feelings for him—and yet it almost seemed as though this was the first time he had ever thought about it.
Perhaps because he had never considered that Merlin was in love with him, and now that he knew for certain, it made it all that much worse to finally be hit in the face with it: they would never be together.
“Perhaps… perhaps when I am king, things will be different,” Arthur whispered and Merlin looked at him, his own war of emotions playing through his eyes.
“Perhaps…” Merlin said, although he didn’t seem to see any hope in it. By the time he would be king, he would be married, starting a family. He wouldn’t have time to think about Merlin.
And yet, Arthur didn’t want this to be his life anymore. He didn’t want to be the perfect prince if that would ruin a chance with Merlin. He knew it was unreasonable, knew it was childish, knew it was anything but what a king should be, but Arthur wanted to be happy just the same. He didn’t want to be forced into a life he didn’t want with a woman he wasn’t interested in, he wanted something more for himself, he wanted a chance with Merlin. And he wanted to prove to Merlin that perhaps in the future they did have a chance, they could have a chance. He had to try.
Arthur broke the relationship off during their vows, and Elena, surprisingly, did the same, telling him of a man she had met before Arthur that she was deeply in love with and that she couldn’t live without. During her speech, Arthur couldn’t help but look over at Merlin, who seemed to be shocked and also relieved. When Merlin saw him looking his way, he simply smiled, and Arthur couldn’t help but smile back.
“I’m sorry we can’t be together right now,” he said when they had come back to his room after his father had yelled at him for ruining his chance at uniting two kingdoms.
Merlin shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Arthur,” he said, twiddling with his fingers. “It’s just the way it is.”
Arthur swallowed, licking his lips. “I know that me being king may be a long way from now and so, if you fall for someone else, for Gwaine perhaps—”
“Arthur, you’re such a dollophead. I’m not falling for anyone else but you.”
“All I’m saying is—”
“I know what you’re saying,” Merlin said, taking a step forward, merely inches away from his face. “But I’m not planning on going anywhere. I can wait.” Arthur’s heart pounded in his chest even then, the urge to close the distance and to kiss him was so strong he had to hold himself back. Eventually, he thought to himself. Someday he would be able to, just not today.
Being around Merlin all the time with both of their feelings realized was… torture, to say the least.
He thought it might be difficult at first, it could be a bit distracting every now and then whenever they went out on hunting trips or whenever Merlin would lace up his armor.
But even the most trivial things had become the most agonizing steps in their everyday process. Merlin would deliver food to him, and he would become distracted by his smile or him humming to himself. Everything Merlin did that was normal and ordinary had somehow now become something more, something romantic in nature, and Arthur wanted to put his brain in boiling water if only to stop thinking about how nice it would be to simply live like this all the time—with Merlin’s liveliness always around him.
His heart yearned for it. He wanted to be with Merlin so desperately it was almost drowning his other thoughts. Merlin seemed as desperate as he was for something more even if he knew in all his heart it could never be.
The months slowly passed on as Merlin and Arthur continued to help save magic users. Merlin continued helping Morgana with her magic, Arthur continued his princely duties, and despite the underlying desperation the two had to be with one another, they eventually forced themselves to look away when they could, dreaming instead of another day when they could be free.
The news of his father’s health came to him suddenly one morning, during which Arthur was doing his best not to drool over Merlin. There had been a knock, breaking Arthur out of his thoughts, as he meekly said, “Come in,” letting whoever enter.
In walked Gaius who looked quite tired—it seemed he hadn’t slept a wink the night before. “Sire,” he said at once, bowing to him.
Arthur quickly waved it away. “What is it, Gaius?”
Gaius proceeded to tell him of Uther’s decreasing health that had started to affect his ruling. The court physician explained how Uther was slowly dying and that his father had only about a few weeks left to live.
Arthur didn’t even look at Merlin, simply racing out the door, images of his father terrifying him.
Morgana was already there when he arrived, turning to look at him with sympathetic eyes. His father looked worse than he could’ve ever imagined. His father’s face—once sharp and stubborn had now become worn down, defeated. He had large bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in years and he could barely get through a sentence before he started coughing profusely, shuddering with each breath he took.
It was hard watching his father like this. On the one hand, his father had been a terrible king, ruling over the realm with an iron fist and executing anyone with even a hint of magic.
He was a terrible man, one that had forced people he loved to forever live in fear and terror at his father ever finding out.
He had forced him to do inexcusable things, things that still kept Arthur up at night despite what Merlin had told him. He, who had lied to him for years about the nature of magic, had twisted his mind and made him believe that everyone with magic had chosen it for themselves and had become evil because of it.
His father, laying in this bed, deserved the pain that was coming to him. For all that he had done to everyone he held dear, he deserved to pay for it by dying a slow and painful death. He couldn’t wait to finally abolish the rules his father had placed, couldn’t wait to be able to hold Merlin’s hand and not fear for his father walking in.
Finally, he could have the peace that he had always wanted, leading next to a man who would help him bring magic back and save his people from an ugly reign.
And yet… this was his father, the man that had raised him. The man that taught him how to be smart, how to be fearful, how to be feared. His father who, despite his cold and callousness, cared and loved him. The same man who, despite being truly awful, could sometimes show affection. He recalled joking with his father about his troll step-wife, remembered being a kid and Uther placing him on his lap in the throne room, showing him where he would one day rule.
He was a monster, and yet he was his father and he loved him and hated him for it. His feelings were too complex to fully wrap his head around, and he simply walked out of the room, too overwhelmed by the entire situation. He thought he had wanted this. And perhaps he still did, but also, no, perhaps he didn’t.
He walked into his room, preparing to scream into his pillow, when he saw Merlin already there, waiting patiently for him to come back. Upon seeing him, the warlock didn’t say anything, simply closing the gap between them and bringing Arthur into a long overdue hug. He stood there for a moment, unsure of where to put his hands (he wasn’t used to many hugs) before finally finding a place near his hip. He breathed into the hug, blinking back tears, until Merlin whispered, “It’s okay, you’re okay,” and the dam finally broke. Tears fell from his eyes, loud sobs echoing in the room. Merlin just held him tighter then, rubbing circles on his back, letting him feel his sadness and his confusion and his anger all at once.
Uther Pendragon would fall a few weeks later, leaving a hole in Arthur’s heart. Despite his anger at his father, he still wished to go through the traditional way of mourning the king by honoring him. It was hard seeing his father’s lifeless body, but at the same time, it was time for him to start his reign, time for him to right the many wrongs his father had created over the years. Despite the sadness it would take for it to happen, new beginnings would hopefully be the start of Albion.
Arthur was quickly plunged into the politics of being king, but with the help of Gwen, Gaius, Merlin, and Morgana, he was able to have advisors he could trust amidst the chaos. He was quickly sworn in then immediately given paperwork that stacked so high Merlin couldn’t even see his head. He was working tirelessly, between diplomatic meetings, courtly meetings, and parties he would have to prepare. All with the looming anticipation and the curiosity the people had as to what king Arthur would be.
It was all too much in the beginning. But as he got his bearings and slowly made it through the pile of paperwork, he felt more at ease, especially with everyone’s help. He could do it, he knew he could. He could handle the pressure, the work. And hopefully, he wouldn’t be alone to do it.
He eyed the door waiting patiently for Merlin to walk through, his hand gripping a wilting flower (Arthur was terrible with plants). He had asked Merlin to come that night so they could talk but now he was instantly regretting it.
What if Merlin had moved on in the time that it took for him to become king? What if seeing him so upset from his father dying convinced Merlin that he was no good, that he would betray magic once more? What if Merlin had fallen madly in love with Gwaine all this time? What if—
Just then, Merlin walked through the door, his typical goofy grin on his face and instantly, Arthur felt relaxed.
This was Merlin, he thought to himself. As long as he had Merlin, everything would be okay.
Arthur returned the smile as Merlin sat down beside him on the bed. “You asked for me?” Merlin said, eyebrows raised.
He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to ask. He was king now after all, if he was scared of this conversation, how could he ever be able to work with his enemies?
“Here,” he said, awkwardly giving the flower to Merlin.
The warlock took, grinning, before looking at him once more. “Is that all?”
“No, I… uh,” he scratched his face awkwardly before finally asking, “Could I uh, have the honor of courting you? If you would have me, that is.”
Merlin’s smile somehow grew bigger as he scratched his head, pretending to think about it. Arthur shoved him and Merlin laughed. “Yes of course you clotpole, it’s about damn time too.”
Arthur laughed, shaking his head. “Well, it’s not my fault or anything.”
“Well, when in doubt, I always blame you, Arthur.”
“In case you weren’t aware, Mer lin, I am your king now. Treat me with some respect.”
“Yes sire, absolutely sire, will do.”
“That doesn’t sound like respect to me.”
“Oh, I can show you respect, sire, if that’s what you wish,” Merlin said, leaning in closer to his face.
His heart beat erratically and he grinned, leaning in closer. “If you insist.”
Before they could do anything else, once again, his door was flung open by none other than Morgana and Gwen.
“We knew it!” Morgana exclaimed before doing the unthinkable and giving both of them a hug.
“I’ve always known deep down that you two were in love, we just never had the unflinching truth about it,” Gwen said, and Arthur swore she was wiping away a tear.
“Well besides the constant longing looks and sexual tension, of course,” Morgana said, the two instantly blushing and finding any other place to look.
“Well? Morgana, give me my coin. I called it!” Gwen said.
“Well, they didn’t kiss, so I should truly be getting the 10 coin—"
“Wait, you two bet on us?” Merlin asked, his face only growing warmer.
“Of course, we did, silly goose,” Gwen said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. It was not.
“Well anyway, enjoy your ‘special’ time together,” Morgana said knowingly, winking. Arthur had never wanted to kill someone more. When they finally left, Arthur groaned, leaning into Merlin’s shoulder. “Why must they ruin everything?”
“Because that’s what they love doing most.”
“I hate them.”
“Well at least they pointed us in the right direction.”
“And what direction was that?” Arthur asked, moving to look back at Merlin’s face.
“The direction of having ‘special’ time. Just the two of us.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Oh gods, this is going to be a nightmare.”
“Sorry Arthur,” Merlin said, clearly not very sorry for anything. “It’s like what I told you, I’m not planning on going anywhere.” And with that, Merlin finally closed the distance between the two of them, kissing him gently on the lips.
When they finally pulled apart, Arthur sighed. “Finally, only took us about three years.”
“Yes, yes, it would seem we have a lot of making up to do.”
Arthur grinned, feeling on top of the world right now. A new world had been created with Merlin at his side, one that he was proud to be a part of. His first ruling tomorrow would be to unban magic and sorcerers alike and from then on, he figured he and Merlin would figure it out. After all, that’s what they always did, right?