Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Let this be said: Arthur Pendragon was not in love with his manservant.

Did he want to kiss him? Sure! But that didn’t have to mean anything. Anyone would want to if they ever looked at his lips. They looked all soft and inviting, and it was very much not Arthur’s fault that he wanted to kiss them. 

But that was it. Just because he wanted to kiss Merlin sometimes – a lot of the times – did not mean he was in love with him. Or that he was even attracted to him, for that matter. 

Sure, Merlin was pretty for a man, with his defined cheekbones and sapphire blue eyes, but just because Arthur could acknowledge that didn’t mean he was attracted to Merlin. The notion was simply ridiculous.

He watched now from his window as Merlin hurried across the courtyard, towards the physician's chambers. He had a basket of herbs in his hands, and as he walked, a sudden gust of wind ruffled his raven locks. He stopped, lowering the basket to the ground. He ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to school the strands into some sort of order, but only managed to make them look even more like a bird's nest. He looked around, possibly in search of a reflective surface of sorts, until he glanced in the direction of Arthur’s window. Spotting Arthur, he smiled brightly for a few moments and waved before picking up the basket and continuing on his way. 

Arthur was left with a strange sort of pressure in his chest. The way a smile would always light up Merlin’s face was kind of nice to look at, he had to admit. And maybe his sharp cheekbones weren’t all that unpleasant either. And sure, Arthur also enjoyed the sight of Merlin’s long, strangely elegant fingers at work polishing chain mail.

And– oh alright. Maybe he was attracted to Merlin. And so what? As annoying and infuriating as he was, Arthur had seen Merlin charm people in a matter of moments, with his dimples and pretty blue eyes. Arthur couldn’t be blamed for succumbing to that same charisma; he was only human after all. There was nothing wrong with him appreciating someone’s looks. 

The doors of his chambers suddenly opened to reveal a cheery-looking Merlin. “Gods, it’s cold in here,” he said.

Arthur turned to him and rolled his eyes. “Would it kill you to knock, Merlin?”

Merlin disregarded the question completely and moved to light the fireplace. “Seriously, how are you not freezing your arse off?”

“Maybe I am, since my useless excuse for a manservant hasn’t been here to light a fire,” Arthur said. Though now that Merlin had mentioned it, his rooms were a bit chilly. He hadn’t even noticed, had even felt a bit warm when he saw Merlin in the courtyard a few moments before. Strange.

Merlin looked at him, exasperated. “I was gathering herbs for Gaius, in case you didn’t notice.” Then, with a wordless flash of his eyes, tall flames appeared in the fireplace.

The small display of power sent a strange thrill through Arthur, as it always had since Merlin first showed him what he was capable of nearly twelve moons ago in Ealdor. There was something about that golden shimmer that captivated him. He cleared his throat. “Well you better get used to the cold. We're going on a hunting trip tomorrow.”

Merlin groaned in irritation. “But it’s almost winter.”

Arthur gave him a smug look. “Don’t be such a girl, Merlin, that’s no excuse.”

“Leave it to you to kill innocent animals in any weather,” Merlin said, a spark of challenge in his gaze.

Arthur stood up to it. “People have to eat no matter the season, don’t they?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Arthur scoffed. Truth be told, he just wanted to get out of the castle with Merlin safely by his side. As much as he hated to admit it, the whole situation with Aredian had worried him a lot. The thought of harm coming to Merlin… it was almost unimaginable. And so, Arthur figured there could be no harm in escaping it all, could there?

So, bright and early in the next morning, the two of them set off to the Darkling Woods. Merlin grumbled about the cold and the early hour the whole way there, and Arthur couldn’t help but smile to himself. Merlin’s endless prattle always delighted him, not that he would admit that to the man himself. 

The woods were peaceful, the air fresh with a lively energy. The sound of wind blowing through the leaves soothed Arthur, and he found the sight of the red and yellow autumn foliage quite pleasant as well. And there was also Merlin, with all his chatter and snark. Arthur would never admit it out loud, but he always felt more like himself with Merlin by his side and time seemed to fly by when they were together. If Merlin noticed that Arthur wasn’t exactly trying to get any good game, well, he didn’t mention it. Though he was reluctant to give this moment of peace up, when the sun had completed half of its descent in the sky, Arthur decided that they should turn back to Camelot. 

Which was right when a group of bandits jumped out from the trees. Arthur barely had time to draw his sword before another blade met it with a clang. “Stay back!” he yelled to Merlin.

Merlin, like the idiot he was, didn’t listen. From the periphery of his vision, Arthur saw one of the men crash hard against a tree and slump down against it. He briefly caught sight of Merlin with his hand extended, before he had to concentrate on the bandit before him again.

When Arthur disarmed and finished off the brigand, he looked around only to see three others dead already. Before he had any time to assess the situation more, a yell of his name sounded, and he was roughly pushed to the ground. As he looked up, he saw Merlin standing right in front of him, and an archer whose head was just colliding with the ground with a sickening crack. The attackers were no more.

“Are you alright?” Merlin asked, turning to look at Arthur, who could not tear his gaze away from Merlin’s side. “Arthur?” Merlin asked again.

Something like terror gripped Arthur as he got up, eyes still locked on the same spot. Merlin seemed to follow his line of sight, as in a moment he let out a soft gasp. “Oh,” he said, and slumped forward, the fight leaving his body.

Arthur caught him around the shoulders swiftly, careful not to jostle the arrow sticking out just above Merlin’s right hip. Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, and lowered Merlin gently down to the ground. Merlin let out a small groan of pain. “I need to pull the arrow out,” Arthur said, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Merlin shook his head. “Don’t, that’ll make it worse.”

“Worse?” Arthur exclaimed. “You have a piece of wood and metal inside you, how can it be any worse than that?”

“Bleeding,” Merlin said with a wince. “It’s keeping the blood in. If you pull it out it can’t do that, and I don’t have anything with me to help with that.”

Arthur dug his fingers into the ground anxiously. “Can’t you heal yourself?”

Merlin gave him a pained smile. “’M rubbish at healing spells.”

Arthur sighed. “Of course you are.” He shook his head, trying to think of a solution. “Can you break off part of it without moving the rest? I can’t very well get you back to Camelot with half of an arrow just sticking out like that.”

“You’re not seriously suggesting that you'll carry me all the way back. We didn’t even bring horses,” Merlin said, voice growing weaker. 

Arthur cursed himself now for the decision to come on foot. He'd expected the excursion to be short and casual. He huffed. “If you think I'm going to just leave you out here to die then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought you to be.” He smiled wryly. “It’s not all that easy to find a half-decent servant, you know?”

Merlin gave him a small smile, and with a golden spark of his eyes the arrow snapped in half. He let out a small yelp of pain. “That wasn’t as clean as I hoped it would be.”

Arthur couldn’t bear to look at the spreading crimson stain on Merlin’s tunic, so he picked up his discarded sword and sheathed it. “I'm going to lift you up. Let me know if it hurts you.”

“Oh, it'll hurt no matter what,” Merlin said dismissively. Arthur positioned himself beside him on the side opposite the wound. “For the record, I still think you should leave me and come back with proper help, but you’re such a stubborn clotpole that I'm not even going to try convincing you,” Merlin continued.

Arthur slid his arms under Merlin’s shoulders and knees. “I'm not leaving you to the mercy of nature and bandits for who knows how long.”

Merlin scoffed. “I can protect myself.” As Arthur tensed his arms in preparation to lift him, Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. 

Arthur lifted him with as much care as he could, getting quite a few displeased sounds in response. “Not if you’re unconscious. It's a miracle you’re coherent as is.”

Merlin smiled weakly, face still scrunched up in pain. “Haven’t really lost all that much blood yet, have I? And I've dealt with worse pain by now.”

Arthur felt sick at the thought that Merlin could have experienced something so awful that being impaled was bearable compared to it. He adjusted Merlin carefully, but it still drew a hiss of pain from the servant. “Is this alright?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded against Arthur’s shoulder. “As good as it will get, I think.” Arthur took a tentative step forward, only drawing a very small flinch from Merlin. Reassured, he moved again. “If you continue at this pace, you won’t get back to Camelot even in a sennight,” Merlin teased weakly.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up. Not like it's logical to be careful with your injury.” 

“It will get worse no matter what,” Merlin said, brow pinched in pain. “It doesn’t matter if it causes me pain; the faster Gaius can clean the wound the lower the chance of infection is. So get on with it, will you?”

Arthur knew Merlin had a point, but the thought of causing him more pain was not exactly appealing. “I'm still the prince, you know. You can’t tell me what to do.”

Merlin gave him a pained smile. “Physicians' orders overrule everything, didn’t you know that?”

Arthur raised a sceptical brow. “Even if that were true, you're only an apprentice.”

“Still counts,” Merlin mumbled. Arthur sighed and quickened his pace, forcing himself to look away from Merlin’s face.

The woods were quiet around them, save for the way the last of the golden and red leaves rustled in the wind. Most of them had fallen by now, slowly browning and withering on the cold ground. They crunched under Arthur's feet as he walked. “You shouldn’t have taken that arrow for me,” he said.

Merlin shifted slightly. “If you’re trying to find a way to blame yourself, don’t. It was my choice, and I did it of my own free will.”

Arthur shook his head. “You’re one self-sacrificing bastard, you know that?”

Merlin huffed out a small laugh. “Pot calling the kettle.” He shifted his head against Arthur. “Your shoulder is comfortable,” he said, and Arthur nearly tripped over his feet. Merlin, probably realising what he just said, spoke up again. “Sorry, I think I'm starting to lose blood, and pain is exhausting, you know? I should stay conscious as long as I can. Can you keep me talking?”

Arthur, still trying to recover, somehow managed to speak. “About what?”

Merlin shrugged, then winced as he realised that had been a bad idea. “Anything, really. Like uhh, herbs.”

“Herbs?” Arthur asked, puzzled.

Merlin nodded. “Herbs, yeah. That’ll keep me talking for ages, there are far too many of them if you ask me. Like, you know how many things you can use to get a fever down? It would be so much simpler if everything just had one herb, wouldn’t it? Willow bark for pain, feverfew for fever, chamomile for infection…” And he continued on and on as Arthur listened silently.

Merlin started slurring his words slightly as the sun just began to brush the horizon, painting the sky in golds and oranges, matching the autumn landscape around them. Arthur interrupted him. “Hey, Merlin?”

Merlin stopped in his speech immediately. “Wh's wrong?”

Arthur tightened his jaw. “You’re– are you falling asleep?”

Merlin blinked up at him wearily. He seemed to debate the question internally. “Might be, yeah,” he said when he finally settled on an answer. “I'm tired. Aren’t you tired?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re so scrawny that a child could carry you.” In truth, Arthur’s arms were starting to go stiff after staying still for so long, but Merlin was already in a bad enough state as it was, he wasn’t going to worsen it by stopping. “We're not far from Camelot now,” he lied. “Just hold on a little longer.” In truth, he knew they would only arrive sometime after darkness fell, but maybe he could keep Merlin awake long enough like this.

Merlin hummed. “I'll try my best. It’s hard, though. You make me feel too safe.”

Something warm flooded Arthur’s chest as he heard that, something that he would rather not examine at that moment. Merlin didn’t keep talking, possibly preserving his energy. As Arthur watched the sun crawl down the sky, he would feel Merlin shift against him every once in a while. With the last rays of light slowly disappearing, Arthur took one more look down at him. Merlin’s eyes were closed, and he had buried his face in Arthur’s shoulder. “Merlin?” Arthur said.

“Hm?” Relief flowed through Arthur at the noise.

”You’re awake, right?”

Merlin nodded weakly. “Just ‘bout.”

Arthur looked back up, watching Camelot’s towers, clearly visible through the trees now. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. “Good,” was all he said.

As he finally approached the gates to the Citadel, only the stars and the thin crescent moon provided light. The guards welcomed him with clear relief and alarm, but Arthur’s steely gaze deterred them from asking any questions. 

Arthur hurried to Gaius' chambers right away. Merlin let out an unhappy noise as Arthur carried him up the stairs. Arthur pushed open the door to the physician's quarters with his foot. Gaius was sitting by a candle and reading, and when he looked up his expression turned into one of consternation. “Sire?” he said as he hurried over. “What happened?”

Arthur swallowed. “Bandits. Merlin saved my life.” He looked down at Merlin, whose forehead was covered by a sheen of sweat. “Again.”

Gaius led them to the patients' bed, and Arthur laid Merlin down on it gently. Merlin let out a pained grunt and gritted his teeth.

“We're in Camelot now, with Gaius,” Arthur told him.

Merlin opened his eyes slightly. He smiled weakly. Arthur stepped back from him, and let Gaius get closer. Gaius peeled back Merlin’s tunic, revealing the broken piece of arrow. The wound was still oozing blood, and Gaius looked worried at the sight of it. “How long ago did this happen?”

“Some time before sundown. We'd gone further than I intended and brought no horses.”

Gaius looked Merlin over for any other signs of injury. “That’s at least three candle marks. It’s a miracle he’s still conscious. It’s a very good sign.”

Relief coursed through Arthur as he watched Gaius get bandages. The old man looked his way when he went back to Merlin’s side. “Sire, if I may, can you help me hold him down? I need to remove the arrow.” 

Arthur nodded hesitantly and stepped closer. He put his hands on Merlin's shoulders, looking to Gaius for affirmation. The old man nodded reassuringly and set to work. The moment his fingers touched the arrow, Merlin let out a pained whimper. Arthur looked at Gaius. “Are there any barbs?”

Gaius didn’t glance away from the wound. “It doesn’t seem so, fortunately.”

Arthur, relieved, looked back at Merlin, who was breathing heavily through the pain. Arthur saw Gaius' movements only from his periphery. “It’s almost over, Merlin,” he said reassuringly. 

After a few more moments Gaius spoke up, having partially bandaged the wound around the projectile. “I'm going to pull it out now. Get ready.”

Arthur steadied his hands, and right as he did, Gaius tugged at the arrow. Merlin tried to jerk up with a short yell, only held down by Arthur. A few bottles exploded on the shelves. “Sorry,” Merlin mumbled. Arthur kept his hands on Merlin’s shoulders as Gaius finished up the bandages. When the physician stood up, Arthur did as well.

“I've done everything I can now. It’s only a matter of luck from here on,” Gaius said. “Though from what I can tell, the arrow hit a very fortunate spot. The bleeding is minimal for an injury of this kind, and as there are no signs of infection. It seems no intestines were punctured.”

Arthur looked at Merlin, who was far too pale. “So he will live?”

“I cannot say with complete certainty until some more time passes, but I believe so, yes. Merlin is young and healthy, which improves his chances greatly.”

Arthur let some of the tension seep out of his shoulders. “That’s reassuring to hear.”

Gaius inclined his head. “From what I understand, you must have carried him back?” Arthur looked down, nodding. “That’s very commendable, Sire.” When Arthur looked back up, Gaius was smiling.

Arthur glanced at Merlin. “It was the only thing I could do. I wouldn’t leave a friend behind.”

Gaius looked at Arthur meaningfully. “It was a risk nonetheless, and I must thank you for it. You know already that Merlin is like a son to me.” They stayed silent for a few moments. “Your father was starting to worry. You should notify him of your arrival.” When Arthur looked Merlin’s way once again, Gaius continued. “I'll send word if anything changes.”

Arthur nodded. “Thank you,” he said, and reluctantly left for his father’s chambers.

The King was reading a stack of parchments when Arthur entered. “Ah, Arthur, you've arrived,” Uther said, abandoning the papers. “Did something disturb your journey?”

“We were attacked by a group of bandits.”

Uther drew his brows together, worried. “Were you injured?”

Arthur shook his head. “I'm perfectly unharmed, fortunately. My manservant was shot with an arrow when he pushed me out of its way, and that’s what delayed us.”

“So your servant is to blame then,” Uther said dismissively.

“No,” Arthur said, eyebrows drawn together. “The bandits are. Merlin got seriously injured as he was saving my life. It’s hardly his fault.”

Uther looked almost confused. “And you let a servant’s injury hold you back?”

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for him,” Arthur said. “My conscience would not allow me to leave him to die.”

Uther's gaze was sharp and scrutinising. “This is the same boy you've risked your life for before, is it not?”

Arthur was struck speechless for a moment. He didn’t realise his father remembered that. “Yes,” was all he said.

Uther sighed. “I know the boy is loyal to a fault, but you cannot treat him as a friend, Arthur. He's a servant.”

Arthur scoffed. “I do not–“

Uther cut him off with a raised hand. “I realise that he's been a close companion to you at times, but he is below your standing. Servants just do not understand the ways of nobles, you must know that.”

Arthur clenched his jaw to stop himself from saying that actually, Merlin did understand him. Better than anyone else ever had. He forced himself to bow his head. “Yes, Father,” he said through his teeth.

The King nodded. “Good. You are dismissed.”

Arthur was still irritated by the time he reached his own rooms. Yes, he realised that peasants had different troubles from nobles, but that– Merlin was… it was different with Merlin. He couldn’t explain, but it truly was. 

He slept restlessly that night, plagued by thoughts of Merlin’s injuries and his father’s words. And the following day didn’t go any more smoothly either. Arthur was already in a sour mood when he realised that Merlin wouldn’t be coming to wake him, and then it just got worse after that. He would find himself distracted by worry, and it frustrated him to no end.

He was restless even once he finished all his duties for the day and paced around the castle looking for things to do when he overheard two stable boys talking in the courtyard. He didn’t know why the conversation caught his attention, but he found himself listening in after hearing one of them say “So you think you're in love?” in a hushed tone. 

“I know I am,” the other one replied. “I'm telling you James, the world doesn’t feel right when she’s not by my side.”

The boy, James, just laughed. “Well, I say you're mad.”

“Madly in love, my friend, madly in love.”

The stablehands left after that, but something about that conversation stuck with Arthur, even as he finally made his way to his rooms. Maybe it was just because he'd felt off-kilter all day, like the boy had said. Except that couldn’t be right, because the only one who was missing from his day was Merlin. 

Merlin, who Arthur half expected to be there when Arthur opened the door to his chambers, only to find the rooms empty. Merlin, whose absence made a strange sort of bitterness spread through Arthur. Merlin, whose existence brightened every place he was in. Merlin, who he was most definitely not in love with.

Was he?

Arthur closed the door behind himself and stared at it blankly for a few moments. He couldn’t be. It was a totally ridiculous thought. Or, it should have been, but the more Arthur thought about it the more it really wasn’t, because when had Arthur ever been so worried for an ailing friend that he couldn’t bear to go on with his duties? When had he ever looked at a friend and found them beautiful and enchanting and felt sort of dizzy and anxious when he thought about being too close to their lips? When had his heart done all sorts of strange things around them?

And that’s what it all came down to, didn’t it? That slight acceleration of Arthur’s heart rate, the way he couldn’t help but feel a bit happier whenever Merlin smiled, the slight irritation he would always feel whenever it was someone else that smile was directed at. That was it, wasn’t it? All the warning signs had snuck up on Arthur, gradually and without much disturbance, and now, as he was finally forced to grapple with them. Now, it was all terribly obvious. Arthur felt stupid for not realising earlier. Well, in his defence, Merlin was utterly infuriating, and idiotic, and had puzzled Arthur from the moment they first met, so really it shouldn’t have been surprising that he'd managed to catch Arthur off-guard, even in this. 

Arthur was totally, utterly besotted with him.

Well, that was not good, he thought. Actually, taking everything into consideration as he paced around his chambers, he realised that really, it was quite possibly catastrophic. He collapsed into his chair.

This was all totally and completely Merlin’s fault. If he hadn’t been so kind and brave and special and infuriatingly lovable, Arthur wouldn’t be in this bloody mess in the first place!

He buried his face in his hands. He was truly, undeniably in love with his useless excuse for a manservant. The crown prince, in love with his very male, very magical manservant. 

No one could ever know. Especially not Merlin. Not only would it be humiliating, that he was pining over his own meanservant, but once it reached the king, Arthur would probably be forbidden from seeing Merlin again. Even the mere thought of that made Arthur’s chest constrict.

And if Merlin knew– that would be the worst of all. For one, Arthur knew that Merlin cared for him greatly, despite all the insults he would throw at Arthur. He would not have protected Arthur as he had if he didn’t. But nonetheless, Arthur couldn’t know if that care went beyond what one felt for a friend.

He had his suspicions, however, and if they turned out to be true… he was not sure he could handle that. To have it all within an arm's reach, and still impossible.

His head snapped up to the sound of a knock on his door. “Enter,” he called out.

The door opened to reveal a serving boy. “Sire,” he greeted with a bow of his head. “The court physician has sent for you.”

Worry seized hold of Arthur. Had something gone wrong after all? Gaius had seemed to be near certain that Merlin would survive, but could he have been wrong?

He stood up. “Is it bad news?”

The servant fiddled with his sleeves. “He didn’t say, your Highness.” He swallowed. “But he seemed to be in a good mood.”

Arthur breathed out in relief. “Thank you. I will be down in a moment.”

The boy bowed his head once again and hurried off. Arthur leaned against his desk as the door closed. Gods, if even the mere idea of something happening to Merlin had such an effect on him, he really was in for the worst of it. He took a few moments to compose himself and left for the physician’s chambers. 

His footsteps echoed harshly through the hallways as he walked. It took quite a lot of self-restraint not to hurry his steps too noticeably.

He entered the apothecary without knocking, and his legs nearly collapsed from under him when he saw Merlin in bed, taking a sip of something from a cup. Merlin noticed him immediately, and smiled as he pulled the cup away from his lips.

Arthur felt a wave of affection run through him. He crossed his arms, schooling his expression into an unimpressed frown. “Good to see you haven’t managed to get yourself killed yet,” he said.

“As if you could get rid of me that easily,” Merlin replied with a sparkle in his eyes.

Arthur was about to speak again when Gaius suddenly stepped out from the storage room. “I see you've arrived already, Sire. I sent for you not long after Merlin regained consciousness.”

Merlin smirked. “That eager to see if I was alright, were you?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Merlin, I just happened to have finished all my duties for the day.” He turned to Gaius, nodding at him thankfully. Gaius seemed to understand, a small smile appearing on his face. Arthur looked back to Merlin. “Besides, I'll have you know, finding a new manservant is not an easy job.”

“Can’t think why, my Lord, when working for you is such a high honour,” Merlin said with a mischievous look.

“Merlin…” Arthur started.

“Shut up?” Merlin finished.

“You guessed it,” Arthur said. “And you better hurry up with that healing. Your duties won’t get done by themselves,” he added. ‘I hope you get better soon,’ he meant, but that would be far less easy to say.

Merlin seemed to understand, though. “I'm on it,” he said with a smile.

Arthur nodded. “Good. I'll leave you to it, then.” And with that, he began to walk towards the exit. But as he reached the door, he turned back. “And don’t you dare jump in front of any arrows again.”

“No promises,” Merlin said, a soft smile on his face. Something about it sent a surge of fluttering throughout Arthur’s insides.

Arthur sighed. “Idiot,” he muttered, and left the physician’s chambers behind.

A sennight later, Merlin returned to his duties. Arthur still saw him wince in pain every once in a while, but he seemed to be doing alright. And to Arthur’s relief, the realisation of his own feelings hadn’t really changed things between them. It was not that he wasn’t aware of them all the time, oh no. In fact, he couldn’t stop thinking about them any time Merlin was around. But the easy banter between them hadn’t been affected. 

It was almost like a missing mosaic piece had been found, and Arthur could see more clearly now. He understood why Merlin’s grin would make him want to smile as well, why he treasured his manservant’s company so much. It was almost better this way, if it weren’t for the ache in his chest whenever he would watch Merlin busying himself with some kind of task and catch his own eyes wandering over Merlin’s body. It was almost thrilling to test how much he could get away with without notice, but it terrified him all the same. It felt so momentous for something so sudden, and he would often find himself lying awake sleeplessly at night, overwhelmed by the size of it all. 

Then Merlin would come to wake him in the morning, and Arthur had to pretend that he hadn’t been imagining a life where he would be free to court Merlin just hours before.

“Rise and shine!” Merlin said, overly cheery as usual as he threw the curtains open.

Arthur grumbled incomprehensibly and covered his eyes with his arm. 

“No time to laze around, my Lord, you've got a knighting ceremony to attend,” Merlin said.

Arthur huffed. He'd barely gotten any sleep and the last thing he wanted to do was attend a long, stuffy ceremony and following celebration. But alas, when Merlin’s coercing was finally starting to get too irritating, he gathered his wits and started getting ready.

And then a mysterious knight showed up at the ceremony, and things just got worse after that.

“Are you sure you want to trust Morgause?” Merlin asked for what was quite possibly the hundredth time that day.

Arthur looked over his shoulder to look at Merlin, who was riding behind him. “Isn’t it hypocritical of you to tell me I shouldn’t trust a sorcerer?” he said with a hint of a smile on his face.

Merlin shook his head. “It’s not that, you clotpole, it’s that she tried to kill you.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Merlin, she didn’t kill me,” Arthur said.

Merlin’s expression turned sour. “I just have a bad feeling about this, is all.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You and your bloody feelings.”

Merlin scoffed. “In case you forgot, my feelings are right most of the time.”

Alright, Merlin had a point, but it didn’t mean he was correct this time too. “Maybe, but that doesn’t make you any less paranoid.” Just as they passed through the waterfall, a castle came into view.

Merlin inhaled sharply. “This place is overflowing with magic. Where are we?”

Even Arthur could feel it. The castle seemed to be radiating some sort of restless energy. “I don’t know,” he said.

Merlin caught up to his side with his horse. “If we weren’t sure Morgause was a sorcerer before, we can be certain of it now.”

“She must have used magic to defeat me,” Arthur said.

Merlin made a face. “No, I don’t think she did.”

Arthur wanted to retort, but it wasn’t as if he knew magic better than Merlin. “Oh, shut up, it’s not as if you know enough about combat to tell.”

Merlin grinned, and it made Arthur’s insides flip. “If you say so.”

As it turned out, Merlin had just been a worrywart, as usual. Once Morgause had tested him, she was ready to grant Arthur’s wish to see his mother.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Merlin asked, still seeming anxious.

“If you were granted the same opportunity, wouldn’t you want to talk to your father?” Arthur knew it was a low blow, but he was desperate.

Merlin placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder with a sigh. “It’s your happiness I worry for, and your safety. Uther wouldn’t take too kindly to this if he found out.”

“He hasn’t found out about you so far, has he?” Arthur countered. “If I do not speak of this with him, he will never know. But I need to do it. If nothing else, for the sake of my own sanity.”

Merlin’s thumb caressed Arthur's collarbone. He nodded. “Alright. I just hope Morgause’s intentions are as pure as she claims them to be.”

Speaking of whom, the sorceress stepped closer. “It is time,” she said. With one last look at Arthur, Merlin stepped back, giving him some space. Arthur glanced at Morgause. “Close your eyes,” she told him.

Arthur complied, and as soon as he did, he heard her start her incantation. After a few moments of silence, a different voice spoke. “Arthur.”

Arthur opened his eyes and found himself looking at Ygraine Pendragon herself. Her hair was tied up intricately, and her expression was the familiar smile he had seen in her portraits. “Mother,” he said in awe.

The smile on her face widened, “My son,” she said in turn, and stepped closer. She wrapped her arms around Arthur without hesitation. Arthur returned the hug with shaking arms, burying his face in his mother’s neck. He breathed in her scent, committing it to memory. They held each other for a few moments. Arthur was reluctant to let go when his mother pulled away.

She cupped his face with both of her hands. Unshed tears shone in her eyes. “When I last held you, you were a tiny baby. I remember your eyes.” She smiled. “They were staring up at me. Those few seconds I held you were the most precious of my life.”

Arthur felt tears sting in his own eyes. Looking at his mother now, he was overwhelmed with guilt. “I'm so sorry,” he said.

Ygraine's expression turned terribly sad. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Arthur looked down. “It was my birth that caused you to die. I cannot bear the thought that it was my fault.”

He was urged to look back up by a gentle nudge of his mother’s hand. “Do not think that.” Ygraine’s expression turned to something fierce. “It is your father who should carry the guilt for what happened.”

Arthur took a shaky breath. “What do you mean?” he said with wide eyes.

“It is not important.” Her gaze softened once more. “What matters is that you lived.”

Arthur shook his head slightly. “You cannot leave me with more questions. Please.”

Ygraine sighed. “Your father was desperate for an heir. But I could not conceive.” She pursed her lips. “Uther betrayed me. He went to the sorceress Nimueh and asked for her help in conceiving a child… You were born of magic.”

The world spun with Arthur. He stared at his mother’s pensive face. “That can’t be true,” he said shakily. His father wouldn’t have… he would… he…

“I'm sorry, Arthur,” his mother said, stroking his hair. “Your father has deceived you as he deceived me. To create life, a life must be taken, and Uther knew that.”

Arthur shook his head a little desperately. “No." No, his father had loved his mother, he wouldn’t have sacrificed her life like that. Would he?

Ygraine smiled sadly. “He was willing to pay any price for his bloodline to live on. It makes you no less my son, nor me any less proud of you. Now I see you, I would have given my life willingly. Do not let this knowledge change you.” She leaned up, and gently put her lips to his forehead. Arthur closed his eyes. “Follow your heart, my son,” his mother said.

When he opened his eyes, she was gone. “No! Bring her back!” he exclaimed, turning to Morgause.

“I cannot,” Morgause said. “Once the doorway is closed, it is closed forever. I am truly sorry that you learnt of your mother’s fate this way. I can only imagine how it must feel to discover your father is responsible for her death. It is an unforgivable betrayal.” With a bow of her head, she left.

Arthur stared blankly at the spot where his mother had been standing. Hot, dangerous fury began to boil inside of him. “Are you alright?” he faintly heard Merlin say behind him. The sound of a step echoed on the walls. “Arthur?”

Arthur kept his breathing even. “Fetch the horses. We're returning to Camelot.” When he turned around, he saw Merlin hesitating. “Now, Merlin!” he snapped.

Merlin didn’t flinch, but his frown deepened. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but he stayed quiet. And in the next moment, he was gone to do as he was told. Arthur took a moment to himself, simmering in his white-hot anger. His father would pay for what he had done.

On the way back, Arthur’s rage continued to build, even as he felt Merlin’s lingering glances on him.

When Camelot's citadel came into view, Merlin finally spoke up. “What are you planning to do?”

Arthur felt a muscle in his face twitch. He said nothing.

Merlin took a deep breath. “I beg of you not to do anything rash.”

Arthur’s fury flared up. “I will do what I must.”

“Please, Arthur, at least let yourself process it all before you talk to your father,” Merlin pleaded.

“I would have thought you of all people would be on my side, Merlin,” Arthur snapped. “Or are you just willing to watch as my father continues to slaughter your kind in a desperate attempt to ease his guilt?”

Merlin’s face darkened. “Do you think I'm happy to live my life in secret? To hide my true self as I watch pyres being built for those that couldn’t?”

“So then you understand!” Arthur shouted. “You understand why I can’t let my father kill any more innocents.”

Merlin glared at him. “Yes, I bloody well understand how you feel. It’s how I've felt my entire life! I know you’re angry, I know it must feel infuriating to learn of your father’s hypocrisy, and gods know I've wanted him dead at times as well, but you cannot build a fair and just kingdom on bloodshed and patricide.”

“What am I supposed to do then? Sit by as my father does as he pleases? I can’t do that, not anymore,” Arthur said defiantly.

“So don’t,” Merlin said, like it was that simple. “Help when you can. Smuggle sorcerers from Camelot, call off druid raids, challenge your father's will. Sometimes small things are all you can do, and you just have to live with that.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” Arthur hissed. He only realised it had been the wrong thing to say when Merlin’s face went completely blank.

“You have no idea what it’s like to live your life in fear of what you are, Arthur. To know that one wrong move could send you to the chopping block.” Merlin’s voice was so dark that it hit Arthur right in the chest. “You don’t know what it’s like to grow up as the world tries to convince you that you’re a monster. So yes, that is what I tell myself, because there is nothing else I can do, and yes, it’s killing me.”

Arthur blinked, shocked out of his rage by what Merlin said. “Merlin, I–“

“Don’t,” Merlin said. “Do whatever you want. See if I care.” With that, he whispered something to his horse, and the mare sped up, passing Arthur by. Arthur watched Merlin’s back for the rest of the journey.

When they arrived at the courtyard, they still didn’t say a word to each other. Merlin walked off to Gaius' chambers, and Arthur went to his own, instead of going to find his father like he had originally planned. Once in the privacy of his rooms, he sat down at his desk to think. Now that he’d gotten through that first wave of anger, he wasn’t so sure he could bring himself to kill his father. He was still terribly furious at his lies and hypocrisy, but what Merlin had said had pushed him through his initial blind anger. What sort of king would he become if he ascended to the throne by regicide?

When it became evident Merlin wasn’t showing up anytime soon, he wrestled himself out of his armour, and stood by his window as he pondered everything. Half a candle mark later, the door to his chambers opened.

“You disobeyed me,” Uther said.

“My honour as a knight demanded I go,” Arthur countered, not yet able to look at his father.

The king sighed. “I was merely worried about your safety.”

Arthur turned slightly. “It seems you had nothing to worry about. Morgause had no ill intent toward me.”

“I am happy to have been proven wrong,” Uther said. Then, after a long moment of hesitation, he asked, “Did she tell you anything about your mother?” There was something like worry in his eyes.

Anger gripped Arthur once again. He looked into his father’s eyes, and he lied. “She told me some stories of her. Of her kindness, and her love of her people.”

The King’s shoulders sagged ever so slightly. Arthur’s hands clenched into fists. “Ygraine was–“ he started, but Arthur interrupted him.

“If you'll allow me, I would like to spend some time alone,” he said, keeping his voice as steady as he could.

Uther was quiet for a moment. “Very well,” he said, and left without another word.

Arthur leaned back against the wall, defeated. It was for the best that his father didn’t know. He’d been lying to Arthur all his life. It was only fair Arthur got to withhold some truths himself. 

Arthur moped around in his rooms for some time after that, but Merlin still didn’t come. When the sun was beginning to set, Arthur had had enough. He set off to the physician’s chambers, ignoring his nerves as best as he could.

For once, he knocked on the door, and was let inside by an exhausted-looking Gaius. “Is Merlin here?” he asked.

The elderly physician nodded. “He's in his room. Have you had the chance to talk to your father?” From that, Arthur concluded that one way or another, Gaius had been informed of the day’s events.

He nodded. “He came by my chambers earlier. I told him that Morgause recounted stories about my mother and asked to be left by myself.”

Gaius seemed pleased at that. “You made the right choice, Arthur.”

Arthur sighed. “I hope you’re right,” he said, and approached the door to Merlin’s room.

He opened it slowly. Inside, Merlin was laying on his bed, turned towards the wall. “Did he do it?” he said quietly, and Arthur’s heart sped up.

“I… I came to apologise.” At the sound of Arthur’s voice, Merlin turned around. His eyes were slightly red, and Arthur felt like the biggest arse in the kingdom. Merlin didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at Arthur with wide eyes. “I'm sorry for what I said to you today. It was extremely insensitive. I cannot truly understand the things you have gone through, and I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

The corners of Merlin’s lips twitched upwards. “Who are you and what have you done with Arthur?”

“I'm trying to apologise to you here, you idiot,” Arthur said with a roll of his eyes.

“Ah, there you are,” Merlin said, smiling. Arthur glared at him, which just turned the smile even wider. “Apology accepted,” Merlin added.

Relief unfurled inside Arthur. He couldn’t stand it when Merlin was truly mad at him. He took in the way his manservant's grin lit up his whole face, and he thought back to his mother’s final words. ‘Follow your heart,’ she had said. A nervous tingle ran along his limbs as he looked at Merlin’s lips. If only he could follow his heart.

Things went back to normal after that – as normal as they could be. Arthur would never look at his father the same of course, but to anyone on the outside, it was as if nothing had happened.

And so, life went on. A new threat appeared in the form of a creature that would maul unsuspecting victims at night, Merlin found new ways of insulting Arthur, and then the creature was gone, and so was Merlin’s good mood.

When Arthur finally found him polishing boots in his chambers, he decided that he had had enough watching the sour expression on his manservant’s face. ”Ah, Merlin. I've been looking for you,” he said.

Merlin looked up at him for a moment with a forced smile on his face, and then turned back to the boot in his hand. “Yeah, right, you’re gonna ask me to polish your armour, and to wash your clothes, and clean your room.” He didn’t even sound annoyed, and it just fuelled Arthur’s concern.

He stepped closer and sat down on the floor next to Merlin. “Something’s been upsetting you, hasn’t it?”

Merlin didn’t look up as he answered. “Maybe.”

Arthur thought back to the events of the past couple days. “Was it when I threw water over you?”

Merlin huffed out a little laugh. “It wasn’t very nice,” he said, glancing over at Arthur.

“It was a bit unfair,” Arthur admitted. “Like when you called me fat,” he added.

Merlin stopped polishing. “Why was that unfair?” he asked.

Arthur scoffed. “Because I am not–“ He cut himself off when he saw the small smile spreading across Merlin’s face. The bastard. Arthur had to hold Merlin in a headlock until he admitted how wrong he was. When he let go, Merlin rubbed at his own head where Arthur had ruffled his hair with his knuckles. He was smiling brightly at Arthur, and Arthur couldn’t help but return it. “That’s better,” Arthur said.

The smile stayed on Merlin’s face. “Thanks.”

And in that moment, like so many others before, Arthur wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him desperately. And he didn’t know what it was, perhaps the way Merlin’s hair was sticking up all over the place, looking adorable instead of ridiculous, or that his smile was both directed at, and caused by Arthur, but when that impulse to press his lips to Merlin’s came over him, Arthur complied.

He leaned forward, and kissed Merlin on the lips.

Stunned stillness followed, but just around when Arthur’s mind was starting to process what was happening, Merlin began to kiss him back, and he lost track of reality once again.

Merlin’s lips were soft, and gentle. He kissed Arthur with surprising chasteness, and Arthur’s head was spinning, and– oh gods, what was he doing?! Arthur pulled back just as suddenly as he'd leaned in, feeling almost as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs. Blood was roaring in his ears, and as he stared at Merlin’s stunned expression, he felt lightheaded. “I– I should.” He cleared his throat, and Merlin flinched. “You should… I need to uh, train!” Arthur said as he scrambled up. “Got to go,” he rushed out, then all but ran for the door. He closed it behind himself, and he sagged against it. 

This was, to put it simply, a fucking disaster.

Gods, he was such an idiot! How could he have just done that without thinking? He just couldn’t hold his stupid emotions back, could he? He ran his hands down his face. He couldn’t believe he had been so foolish, just kissing Merlin on impulse like that. 

He took a deep breath and stepped away from the door. What would Merlin think of him now? Sure, he had returned Arthur’s kiss, but it might have just been instinct. And if it was, then who knew what Merlin was feeling? Not Arthur, that’s for sure. He dreaded the rejection he might have to face.

Though what he feared even more was reciprocation.

They did not talk about it. After Arthur spent the rest of the day avoiding him, Merlin still came to perform his evening duties, and neither of them mentioned the kiss. The air was tense between them, but Merlin was his usual insolent, disrespectful self, and Arthur could play his own role accordingly. The next day went by uninterrupted as well, and after that the castle busied itself preparing for the arrival of King Olaf and King Alined, and the kiss continued to loom unaddressed above their heads.

“So, what do you think of the Lady Vivian?” Merlin asked as Arthur was changing behind the screen.

Arthur frowned. “The Lady Vivian?” He adjusted the laces of his tunic and stepped out.

Merlin had Arthur’s red jacket held out in front of himself, brushing it down. “I'm assuming she is the one you want to impress with your attire.”

Arthur’s insides twisted. With everything still up in the air, he didn’t quite know how to interpret Merlin’s words. “Or perhaps it’s the kings I hope to gain the approval of. The Lady Vivian may be beautiful, but she is extremely rude.”

“You’re a perfect match, then,” Merlin said, raising his brows.

Arthur felt his face heat up at Merlin’s implication. “Even if that were so, Olaf would have any suitor's head in a vat of oil before they even had a chance to say hello. He is famously protective of her.”

“You don’t seem too bothered by that,” Merlin noted.

Arthur shrugged. “As I said. She’s not my type.”

Merlin was silent for a few moments. “Sometimes I wonder if you can even make up your mind about what your type is.”

Arthur scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Something twisted in his chest. Merlin couldn’t be talking about what happened between them, could he?

Merlin huffed. “Nothing.” He stepped closer to Arthur, holding out the jacket. Arthur turned around with a sigh, and let Merlin help him into it.

When he turned back, Merlin smoothed down the fabric at his shoulders, not looking up. “Merlin,” Arthur said involuntarily.

Merlin turned his gaze up at him. His face was close enough that Arthur could count his lashes if he wanted. He looked at Arthur expectantly. 

Arthur moistened his bottom lip. He gritted his teeth and stepped back. “We have no time to waste. To make the kings wait would be a disgrace.”

Merlin pursed his lips. “Of course, Sire.” The words were laced with  bitterness, and Arthur clenched his fists to stop himself from doing something stupid like reaching out and pulling Merlin’s lips to his.

Arthur felt Merlin’s eyes on him for the whole duration of the feast. He made pleasant conversation with the members of the kings' delegations, but every once in a while, his gaze would be drawn to his manservant, who didn’t seem to mind when he got caught staring. It left Arthur’s mouth dry and his thoughts scrambled. He already dreaded the places his mind would go that night.

The next morning, Arthur woke up feeling wonderful. He was a man in love! He got up with a spring in his step and dressed himself. There was no time to waste, his lady love was waiting for him! He stepped to his window to think, and oh, she was right there. How graceful she looked as she talked to that servant.

The door to his chambers opened, and Merlin walked in. “Good morning, Sire,” he said, and Arthur had never thought those words to be more true.

“Never have you been more right, Merlin. It is the sunniest, the most fragrant, the most beautiful morning I have ever seen in my life!” Arthur said with a bright smile.

Merlin blinked at him. “You’re dressed,” is all he said.

Arthur rolled his eyes jovially “I am the future king of Camelot, I do have some skills, you know.”

Merlin looked unimpressed. “Indeed, you are very skilled at getting people to do things for you.”

Honestly, Merlin was such a downer. Couldn’t he see how incredible this morning was? “That is your job. But today, my job is to woo.”

Surprise spread throughout Merlin’s face. “To what?” Slow as always, then, Arthur figured.

“To woo. I wish to make a proclamation of love,” Arthur said, already dreaming of the Lady Vivian’s smile when she saw his grand gesture.

“Really?” Merlin said, and if Arthur didn’t know better, he would have thought Merlin looked hopeful. But there was no reason for him to be so, so it must have been a trick of the light. “I thought you didn’t want to act on your feelings.”

Arthur was confused. “Why wouldn’t I? By the end of the day, I will have won my love.”

Merlin smirked. “And don’t you think your love should get a say in that?” he said, something playful entering his voice.

“If my heart is to be believed, the answer will be yes.”

Merlin’s cheeks turned pink, though Arthur couldn’t understand why. “Right. And you’re not worried about what your father would think?”

Arthur sighed. Merlin, ever the worrywart. “What does my father matter?”

Merlin looked at him with something like wonder. “Well, that’s one way of approaching things,” he said with a soft smile.

It was the only way, Arthur thought. No man had the right to get in the way of love. “What troubles me is expressing my feelings. I don’t know how to do it.”

Merlin looked at him softly. “Well you seem to be doing a pretty good job so far.”

Arthur drew his eyebrows together. “Whatever do you mean?”

Merlin took a step closer to him. “You’re talking about them. That’s a pretty good start, I'd say.”

Arthur thought about that. “So you think I should just say my feelings?”

Merlin shrugged sheepishly. “It’s a good start. But there are many more ways to express one’s feelings.”

Arthur blinked at him. “Like…” he said, waiting for clarification. Merlin chuckled. Arthur huffed. “Oh just tell me, will you? I'm not very good at– at–“

“Feelings?” Merlin finished for him.

“Feelings,” Arthur confirmed. “And girls.”

Merlin froze suddenly. “What?”

Arthur cleared his throat. “I'm not sure what a Lady of such high standing as Vivian would want.”

Merlin was looking at Arthur like he was mad. And oh, Arthur was! Madly in love! “You want to declare your love to the Lady Vivian,” Merlin said.

“Obviously, Merlin, do keep up,” Arthur said with a roll of his eyes. “Who else would it be?”

Something like pain flashed through Merlin’s expression. “Right. Who else,” he mumbled. He closed his eyes for a moment. “Flowers. I'll go and uh, gather some flowers. To take to her room,” Merlin said, his voice wavering slightly. He started backing away. “I'll get started immediately. The sooner the better, right?”

Arthur didn’t know why Merlin was acting so strangely all of the sudden, but he trusted his manservant’s judgement. “If you say so,” he said cheerily.

Merlin pursed his lips. “Right,” he said, and hurried away without another word.

Arthur stared after him for a moment. Merlin could really be strange at times, he thought as he shook his head fondly.

As it turned out, the Lady Vivian did return his sentiments – well, not at first, actually, but it seemed that Arthur’s wooing had been extremely effective, as come next morning, his lady love realised her true feelings as well. Now, this was great for Arthur, but Olaf's desire to fight to the death was a bit bothersome. Though, of course, not enough to distract him from his one true love.

Not even a broken rib was enough, if Gaius was to be believed.

“Nothing could hurt me today. I'm invincible,” he said to Gaius with a dreamy smile. Lady Vivian’s lovely face was at the forefront of his mind. “Love really can conquer all, Gaius. It's true.”

Gaius glanced at Merlin, who was standing around nervously after having helped Arthur with his armour. Which was quite unwarranted, in Arthur’s opinion. He felt unstoppable now, and he was confident in his abilities. The mace was his forte, after all.

As he entered the tent once again after the second round, Arthur couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Sure, Olaf had been skilled with the mace, and had scored his fair share of hits, but Arthur wasn’t bothered by that. Luck was on his side, he knew it, as long as the Lady Vivian’s heart was his. 

He was adjusting his tunic when Merlin entered suddenly. “Ah, Merlin,” Arthur said cheerily. “Have you come to dress me for the third round? You’re earlier than usual but I appreciate your eagerness to support me nonetheless.”

Merlin took a deep breath. “I'm not here to help you with your armour,” he said.

Arthur drew his eyebrows together in confusion. “So then why are you here? You've come to wish me luck?”

Merlin shook his head. “I'm here to put an end to this nonsense.”

“What do you–“ Arthur started, but Merlin took purposeful strides towards him, and before Arthur could finish the sentence, Merlin’s lips were pressed against his own. A wave of bewilderment passed through him. Why was Merlin kissing him?

And then, one of Merlin’s hands made its way into Arthur’s hair, and suddenly, all of Arthur’s thoughts ceased to exist, and all he could concentrate on was the way Merlin’s mouth anchored him to reality. All of a sudden, he didn’t much care about why Merlin was kissing him, just that he was. Arthur’s hands moved of their own accord, and wrapped themselves around Merlin, and tiny sparks ran all the way down along Arthur’s spine. He wished the feeling would never end.

Far too soon, Merlin pulled away. Arthur opened his eyes and saw that their faces were still mere inches apart. Merlin’s lips were slightly parted, and glistening, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to kiss them once again. But then everything came rushing back, and oh gods why had Arthur kissed Merlin again, when they hadn’t even talked about the first one! “Merlin?” Arthur said nervously. He took in the rest of his surroundings warily. “What– what am I doing?” And why was his side aching so much?

Merlin watched him worriedly. “You’re in a fight to the death. Against Olaf.” Arthur’s eyes widened. Merlin continued. “There’s no time to explain. I will, later, I swear to you, but for now just...” Merlin swallowed. “Just keep on fighting.”

Arthur didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded. Merlin smiled softly and stepped out of Arthur’s embrace. Wordlessly, Merlin walked to where Arthur’s armour had hastily been discarded and picked one of the pieces up. Arthur stepped closer to him, understanding his cue. Merlin was silent as he helped Arthur into his chainmail. Arthur watched the intricate movements of his fingers as he secured the clasps.

When Merlin was finally finished, he looked over Arthur appraisingly. “Much better,” he said with a nod. Arthur couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face.

Merlin handed him his helmet. Arthur locked his gaze with Merlin’s. “If anything should happen to me, look after yourself. You’re not dispensable, I want you to remember that.”

Merlin smiled worriedly. “I have faith that you will succeed,” he said, and how could Arthur not kiss him when Merlin looked so confident as he said that? The kiss was chaste, barely anything more than a short press of lips, and Arthur’s heart ached with it. A warm wave of power washed through him, and when Merlin pulled away, the glint of shimmering gold was still visible in his eyes. “To ease your pain a little,” he said sheepishly, and gods, Arthur loved him so much it made his entire world shake.

Olaf was a mighty opponent, Arthur had to admit. He was a skilled swordsman, and Arthur’s ribs still ached terribly, but as he spotted Merlin watching him from the side, Arthur found strength in himself to persevere.

“This is no way to achieve peace!” he said when Olaf was laid out beneath him, disarmed. The crowd cheered loudly as he helped the king up, but the only smile Arthur cared about was Merlin’s.

Later, in the privacy of his chambers, Arthur waited for Merlin. They had yet to talk about anything that had happened earlier, and as much as Arthur dreaded it, he needed to clear the air between the two of them.

Merlin entered the rooms soon enough. He looked happy, and Arthur felt all the more guilty for what he was about to say.

He took a deep breath. “I'm sorry for what I put you through the last couple days.”

Merlin smiled softly at him. “It wasn’t your fault. You were enchanted.”

“I figured,” Arthur said wryly. Merlin chuckled. “Nonetheless, I still hurt you,” Arthur continued.

“I'd say it was worth it in the end,” Merlin said meaningfully.

Arthur looked down. “We need to talk about that.”

Merlin stepped closer. “I love you,” he said.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, and heat flooded his face. “You can’t just say that,” he choked out.

He heard Merlin take another step. “I just did. I love you. I've loved you for some time now.”

When Arthur opened his eyes, Merlin was looking at him with such unabashed affection that it made Arthur’s head spin. “Merlin, you know it can never be,” Arthur said.

“It can, Arthur, I know it can,” Merlin said.

Arthur shook his head. “It’s not safe. If anyone, anyone at all were to find out, you would certainly be banished, or worse.”

Merlin’s expression turned serious. “I'm willing to take that risk.”

“Well I'm not,” Arthur snapped. “I'm not willing to risk harm coming to you any more than it already has.”

Merlin frowned. “That’s not your decision alone to make.”

“Neither is it yours,” Arthur countered.

“So that’s it? You're just willing to give this up?” Merlin said, anger rising in his voice.

Arthur sighed. “Do you think it gives me any pleasure to do so? Do you think I don’t want this more than I've ever wanted anything?”

“So then take it.”

“I can’t, Merlin, don’t you understand?” Arthur said, raising his voice. “You’re everything I'm not supposed to want! A man, a servant, and a sorcerer, and even just one of those would be enough to bring down my father’s wrath.”

“And that’s enough for you to not want me?” Merlin said stubbornly.

Arthur groaned. “Merlin, were you even listening to me? Of course I want you! I want you, but I can’t have you.”

“So what then,” Merlin said, throwing his arms up. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing,” Arthur said. “There is nothing either of us can do.”

“That’s horseshit!” Merlin scoffed. Arthur was taken aback by the outburst. “You may be happy to do your self-sacrificial act, and give up on your feelings, but I'm not.”

“Happy?” Arthur exclaimed. “Do I look happy to you? It pains me more than you can imagine, Merlin, because I bloody love you! I love you, and I can’t stop loving you even though I know I should. I know that if I can’t be with you though I am aware my feelings are returned, it will tear me apart, but I have no other choice.”

“You have a choice,” Merlin said. “You’re just making the wrong one.”

Arthur sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand. I know that this hurts you the same as it hurts me, but I can’t lose you.” Arthur felt the tell-tale prickle of tears in his eyes, but he held them back. “I don’t know what I would do if you were no longer by my side.” The fight left his body, and he leaned against the wall.

Merlin’s face seemed to lose the edge of anger as well. “I'm not going to leave you. Not ever. I promise,” he said.

Arthur looked up at him sadly. “You can’t know that.”

“I can,” Merlin said with a defiant nod. “I won’t allow otherwise.”

On impulse, Arthur stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around Merlin in a hug. Merlin stood stiff, stunned for a moment, but then he returned the gesture. Arthur breathed in his scent, old books and apple blossom. They held each other silently for a few moments.

“Maybe when you’re king, we can be together,” Merlin said, breaking the silence.

“I hope for that more than anything.”

Merlin pulled back slightly, laying his forehead against Arthur’s. Their gazes met. “Even if we can’t, maybe tonight, just for tonight, we could try. Before we have to let go of it. We can pretend for a day.”

Arthur closed his eyes. He shook his head. “I'm not sure that if I knew exactly what I was giving up, I could let go of it,” he admitted.

Merlin’s hands made their way to his face. Arthur leaned into the touch. With his eyes closed, he let Merlin guide him against the wall. Arthur was breathing heavily, not daring to open his eyes. “I want to kiss you,” Merlin said.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel Merlin’s breaths against his lips. He felt his arms tremble around Merlin. His words were stuck in his throat.

And then, Merlin stepped back. Arthur let him. He opened his eyes. Merlin's smile was bittersweet. “It might be a very long time before I am king,” Arthur said.

Merlin’s gaze softened. “As long as you still want me then, I'll be there.”

“I will. I always will,” Arthur said. It felt more like a declaration.

Merlin looked away. “I'll go get your dinner,” he said, and left Arthur to himself.

Arthur took a deep breath and ran a hand down his face. He walked to his window. The setting sun illuminated the courtyard in shades of gold and orange. He watched as people milled about performing their last duties of the day. He'd never wished more that he could be like them. 

He still had some time to compose himself before Merlin’s return. He knew they would have to go back to their roles now. They would have to pretend that nothing had happened. And Arthur knew that it had to have been the right choice, the only one even, but in his heart, it still felt like the wrong one. It was fortunate then, that both he and Merlin were good enough liars to lie to themselves.

And so they did.

It's time's nature to flow endlessly, and not even matters of the heart can stop it. Winter set in without mercy, with its biting cold and harsh winds. Sort of like Merlin’s demeanour. 

Arthur knew it was unfair of him to wish for things to go back to normal, and yet he wanted it more than anything. From the outside, nothing would have seemed amiss, but Merlin’s jabs were just a little too honest at times, and some of Arthur’s jabs in return didn’t have any heart in them.

Arthur honestly didn’t expect anyone to notice, and so when Morgana barged into his chambers just after the first snow fell and demanded they go for a ride with Merlin and Guinevere, he hadn’t realised he'd signed up to anything more than that.

Obviously, that proved not to be the case. Wrapped in cloaks and thick, wool jackets, the four of them set off to the woods on horseback. Arthur knew Morgana had always enjoyed the frozen landscape, so he truly could not find anything unusual about this. But when Morgana caught up to his side with a strange glint in her eye, he realised he had made a grave mistake. “Are you going to tell me why you've been acting like an abandoned lapdog recently?” she asked.

Arthur scoffed at the comparison. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, the blind could see it.” She punched him in the shoulder lightly. “It’s not that harpy Vivian you’re still mooning over, is it?”

Arthur made a face. Thanks to that stupid enchantment the whole court thought he had fallen head over heels in love with Lady Vivian of all people. “Gods, no. I have no idea what I was thinking.”

“Well you certainly were not thinking with your upstairs brain, were you?” Morgana said.

Arthur let out a frustrated groan. “Can’t you let this go already?”

“No,” Morgana answered easily. “You were almost tolerable for a little while there, and now you've gone and become an annoyance again. I want to know why.”

“It’s none of your business,” Arthur hissed as he glanced back at Merlin and Guinevere, who were talking animatedly. Merlin laughed, light and easy, and Arthur’s insides turned into knots.

Morgana measured him up. “It’s definitely my business, because you've been an annoying git about it, and you need to stop for the sake of my sanity.”

Arthur urged his horse to trot faster. He was not having this conversation. Morgana didn’t give up that easily as she sped up as well, keeping the pace with Arthur as they reached a clearing. “Let it go, you harpy,” Arthur said with finality.

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Have it your way.” She halted her horse. “I wish to take a break,” she announced loudly.

Arthur sighed as he stopped as well. He didn’t know what game Morgana was playing, but he wanted no part in it. As Merlin and Guinevere caught up to them, Morgana dismounted, and opened up the pouch attached to the saddle, pulling out a flask. She took a long swig from it, and then offered it to an approaching Gwen, who took a few careful sips. She held it out to Merlin after, who accepted it gratefully. He grimaced as he drank from it. “Gods, that’s strong,” he said.

Both Morgana and Guinevere laughed. “It’s really not that bad, Merlin,” Morgana said as she took the flask back from him. She offered it to Arthur. He shook his head as he jumped from the saddle. “Spoilsport,” Morgana said.

They tied the four horses to a tree and had some of the bread and cheese they had brought. As Arthur finished and reached for his flask of water on the saddle, something cold hit the back of his head. He turned around to see Morgana with her arm outstretched. He stared at her, bewildered. “Did you just–“

“Throw a snowball at you?” she interrupted with a smirk. “Maybe.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and then suddenly, he bent down to pick up a handful of snow. Morgana reacted instantly in kind, and they began to pelt each other with the icy projectiles like they hadn’t done since Arthur was a squire. “You’re such a child!” he yelled to her.

“Likewise!” she retorted with a bright grin on her face.

And then suddenly, a snowball hit Arthur’s shoulder from an unexpected direction. Right from where Merlin was standing, actually. Arthur glared at him, betrayed. “Oops?” Merlin said innocently, and then snowballs rained down on him from two directions. “Hey, I’m on your side!” he yelled to Morgana.

Morgana smiled smugly. “There are no allies in a war of snow,” she said right as one of her snowballs hit Arthur right in the face.

Guinevere joined in right after that, and it suddenly turned into a fierce fight. She was quite talented with her aim, as it turned out. Merlin resorted to drastic measures, not even making projectiles, just throwing the snow with two hands.

Arthur fought against the waves of snowballs bravely as he journeyed towards Merlin and was successful in his mission as he shoved a handful of snow right in his face. Merlin, with an irritated but determined expression, tackled him to the ground. They landed in the thick, soft snow, and Merlin smiled triumphantly as he held onto Arthur’s shoulders. “Do you yield, Sire?” he asked.

“Do you?” Arthur said, a challenge in his voice, and flipped the two of them over, holding Merlin down by the wrists. Merlin laughed, carefree and wonderful, and that’s when Arthur noticed how close their faces were. Their noses were practically brushing against each other. Arthur froze suddenly, as did Merlin. They stared at each other, breaths mingling, until a snowball to Arthur’s head snapped him out of his daze. He scrambled off of Merlin, and brushed the snow off his clothes as he stood up. Morgana was smiling calculatedly, her eyebrow quirked, and Guinevere was trying her hardest to pretend like nothing had happened. Bugger. Arthur cleared his throat as he saw Merlin getting up from the corner of his eye. “We should leave soon. It’s getting quite cold,” he said, making his way to his horse. 

An uncomfortable silence descended as they readied themselves, and Arthur evaded all of Morgana's curious looks on their way back to Camelot.

What he couldn’t ignore, though, was when she cornered him in his room after they arrived back at the castle. “Talk,” she said the moment she entered.

“Leave me alone,” Arthur told her from where he was standing by the window.

“No,” she said bluntly. “You’re going to talk by yourself, or I'm prying it out of you.”

“Why do you care so much?” Arthur said.

Morgana shrugged. “I understand this kind of situation better than you'd think.”

Arthur scoffed. “As if you could truly understand.”

Morgana's face darkened. “I will not be belittled by you, Arthur. Not when I feel the way I do. I understand perfectly,” she said none too kindly.

Arthur blinked at her, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

Morgana looked down. “It doesn’t matter. You’re derailing the conversation. I came here to talk to you about your feelings.”

“What about my feelings?” Arthur asked, crossing his arms.

Morgana looked at him with her eyebrow arched. “Don’t play dumb, Arthur dear. You’re stupid enough without it.”

Arthur glared at her. “Your point being?” he asked pointedly.

“You've been miserable for three sennights. Talk it out with him,” she said, face turning serious.

“There is nothing to be spoken of that we haven’t talked about already,” Arthur said, leaning against his bedpost. 

Morgana’s lips twisted in disbelief. “I seriously doubt that.”

“Well, it’s true. Everything that needed to be addressed was addressed. A conclusion was reached, and that was our final decision.”

Morgana took a threatening step forward. “And you’re giving up on your feelings? Just like that?”

Arthur sighed, irritated. “I'm not– not giving up entirely. I couldn’t if I tried. But if you truly understand, as you said you did, you know it’s not the right time.”

“When is it the right time? Uther could rule for many years to come, you can’t expect to keep your feelings at bay all that time!” she exclaimed.

“What choice do I have?” Arthur retorted. “If it were to be exposed, the consequences would be disastrous! I can’t risk that, I just can’t.”

“Then you're a bigger idiot than I thought,” Morgana said darkly. “You can’t expect Merlin to wait for you like that. It’s cruel.”

Arthur gritted his teeth. “It’s for his own sake.”

“Is it?” Morgana asked. “Or is that what you tell yourself instead of admitting that you’re ashamed?”

Arthur clenched his fists. “I am not ashamed.”

“Stop talking around your feelings, then. Say it. Say that you love him, out loud.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “I– I… I can’t,” he choked out.

Morgana looked at him fiercely. “Say it!”

“How could I?” Arthur said, raising his voice. “How could I say that I care about him more than anything? That it would destroy me if any harm came to him? That I want him to be by my side until the world comes to an end and even beyond? Do you think I want this, Morgana? Do you think I like keeping my distance and watching him from afar? I know my feelings, I know that they are returned, and it’s killing me that I can’t act on them, that he’s within my arm's reach and yet there’s an indestructible wall between us. So there. I said it. I hope you’re happy.”

Morgana stared at him, stunned. “Arthur I don’t–“

Arthur cut her off. “I know your intentions are good, and I know you must have your reasons. But I can’t talk about this. I will reconcile this within myself, and I'll get through it. I always have.”

Morgana nodded, resigned. “Very well. But know that you are not alone in this.”

“I appreciate that,” Arthur said. With one last smile, Morgana turned and headed for the door. “Morgana,” Arthur called out as her fingers touched the handle. She turned around. “Who is it that you care for like this?”

Morgana smiled mysteriously. “We've clearly been more subtle than you if you haven’t noticed. I won’t ruin the surprise.” With that, she exited, and Arthur was left alone.

Merlin stayed distant as the season went on, and even as nature began to reawaken, new leaves sprouting with the fresh feeling of new life, things still were not the same between the two of them. Merlin’s attitude had softened, and the ache in Arthur’s heart became more bearable, but it was evident that Merlin was still keeping his distance when the Crystal of Neahtid was stolen. He was acting strange, secretive and anxious, but wouldn’t tell Arthur why. And Arthur didn’t push. If Merlin wished to keep his distance, then so be it. He could keep his secrets, and in turn Arthur wouldn’t tell him of the way his father's command to attack the druids infuriated him. They may have stolen the artefact, but Arthur reckoned it was better off with them than hidden deep in the vaults.

He was sulking by his window when Morgana entered his chambers unexpectedly. “Arthur, you’re not seriously thinking of going on this mission, are you?”

Arthur sighed. “I don’t have a choice on the matter.”

Morgana didn’t back down. “You’re chasing nothing but a rumour!”

“I know that,” Arthur said with a glare. “I don’t wish to do this any more than you, but it’s a command and I have to follow it.”

Genuine surprise took over Morgana’s features. “You really don’t wish to attack the druids?”

Arthur took in Morgana’s demeanour. He thought it over deeply. She had already proven herself to keep one of his secrets. She would keep another; he was sure of it. He shook his head. “I don’t. There are things I have come to know recently that changed my perspective on my father’s relentless persecution.”

Morgana’s eyes widened. “What kind of things?” she asked cautiously.

Arthur looked down, the old fury bubbling to the surface. “I was born of magic. My father wished for an heir so badly that he used magic to exchange my mother’s life for mine, and in his guilt and his grief he blamed magic rather than himself.” He took a deep breath. “So no, I don’t wish to hunt the druids down. More than enough innocents have been slaughtered in my father’s mad quest for vengeance.”

Morgana stared at him for a few moments and took a tentative step forward. “What if– what if someone went ahead to warn them of the incoming attack?”

Arthur watched the way Morgana’s hands trembled ever so slightly. She had a part to play in all this, he realised. “In my eyes, that someone would be doing a just and honourable thing.”

Morgana's face brightened ever so slightly, and her shaking ceased. “Indeed. I must go, Gwen is expecting me.”

Arthur inclined his head. “Of course.” He watched as Morgana walked away graciously, her head held high. He could only hope he had made the right decision.

Despite everything, the Crystal was returned to Camelot in the end. And when Alvarr was mysteriously freed from the dungeons, well, Arthur didn’t ask Morgana how it happened.

When the fires of Idirsholas began to burn, Arthur wished he could pretend it was just some stupid old legend, but he had seen too much to seriously believe that. Still, that didn’t stop him from joking about it with Merlin on their way to it, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Unsuccessfully, of course. Merlin seemed truly worried, and Arthur could do nothing about it.

As they entered the ruined fortress, Merlin looked around curiously. “What’s that noise?” he asked.

Arthur listened. Nothing could be heard save for the clanging of the knights' armour and the heavy footsteps against the decaying stones. “What noise?”

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at the knights. “A sort of trembling sound.”

His caution signalled the presence of magic. Not a good sign, as far as Arthur was concerned. “That’s your knees knocking together,” he said. The joke fell flat as the walls around them.

Soon they entered the central hall of the citadel. Ashes covered the centrepiece. Arthur crumbled it between his fingers. “Well, it seems at least part of Joseph's story was true. But the fortress seemed empty.”

Rustling came from behind them. “I don’t think it is,” Merlin said, and upon turning, Arthur saw as knights in grotesque, human-like helmets drew their swords and attacked with superhuman strength and agility. 

He didn’t hesitate to unsheathe his own blade and strike with all his might. He heard the grunts and shouts of his men all around him, but he couldn’t see anything apart from the enemy's weapon. Then, with one last well-aimed strike, he impaled the knight with a sickening squelch, the blade stuck between ribs. But the knight didn’t fall, and Arthur, now weaponless, was at his mercy. “Arthur!” Merlin’s voice exclaimed, and a new sword was thrust into Arthur’s grip.

Arthur’s thoughts were suddenly overwhelmed with fear as he watched Merlin stand there unarmed and unprotected. And he couldn’t use magic while the other knights were there to see. “Run, Merlin! Go!” he shouted desperately. Arthur blocked the impaled knight's blade with his own, just as Merlin passed him. But the idiot, of course, then stopped. Arthur glanced over his shoulder, panicked. “What are you… Do as I say for once in your life, damn it!” With that, he shoved Merlin towards the entrance. But Merlin, the stubborn fool, didn't give up that easily. As he recovered from the push, he stepped forward, wrapped an arm around Arthur’s shoulders and chest, and yanked. 

Arthur stumbled at the unexpected force, following it to the exit. With one last glance at his fallen men, he let Merlin guide him. “Ahríes þæc!” Merlin shouted, and the ceiling crumbled ahead of them. They fled the same way they came, now two instead of six. 

In the momentary safety of the forest, they stopped for breath, and Arthur allowed himself to feel relief at Merlin’s survival. He looked the man over, only to see a rip in the sleeve of his well-worn brown jacket. He pointed to it with a fake air of nonchalance. “What happened to your arm?”

Merlin, seemingly previously unaware of his injury, turned his head to inspect it. “Oh. I must have caught it on something.”

Arthur stepped closer. “Let me see.” The wound was shallow, but still bleeding quite heavily for one of its size. It reminded Arthur of that horrid day in the Darkling Woods, and that made his stomach turn into knots. “Here,” he said as he ripped a strip of fabric from his tunic.

“No, no, don’t…” Merlin protested, but Arthur was already wrapping the strip around his arm.

Nervous energy buzzed throughout Arthur as his fingers brushed against Merlin’s arm and he looked away, unable to watch his hands working against Merlin’s body. As he finished up the knot, he patted Merlin’s arm. “Don’t worry, you can mend it,” he said, his voice just a hair too breathless to sound intimidating.  He took a deep breath. He needed a distraction. “Did anyone else escape?” he asked, even though he knew the answer already. Merlin shook his head. Arthur gathered his thoughts. “We need to get back to Camelot, gather reinforcements.” He thought back to the knight he had been fighting, unfazed by a blade through his lungs. “Though I'm not sure what good that will do.”

Merlin smiled at him reassuringly. “It’s our best option. We should hurry,” he said.

Arthur couldn’t agree more. 

The idea was all well and good until the two of them arrived at the city gates and the guards lay unmoving on either side. Arthur rushed to the closer one. He pulled off his glove and held his hand above the guard's nose. “Are they dead?” Merlin asked.

Arthur felt the even puffs of air against his sweaty skin. “No. They’re breathing.” He stood up.

“What’s happened to them?” Merlin wondered aloud.

Arthur watched the two men with growing worry. “I don’t know.”

They hurried inside to find a similarly empty main square, unconscious people strewn about all over. The city seemed an echo of itself, devoid of everything that truly made it Camelot. 

Arthur watched the still bodies with horror. “What’s going on?”

“I'll get Gaius,” Merlin said, taking off into a run. But as he reached the entry archway, he stopped in his tracks. “Arthur!” he exclaimed, and Arthur rushed to his side. “They’re all fast asleep,” Merlin said as they took in the sight of people passed out over the stairs. “This cannot be natural.”

Arthur nodded. “It has to be magic. There’s no other explanation.”

They found Gaius similarly unconscious in his chambers. Arthur ran a nervous hand through his hair. “We have to find Morgana. And my father,” he added hastily. “This could be an attempted coup.”

They hurried to Morgana's rooms first. The door was left slightly ajar, and as they peeked inside, they saw Guinevere sleeping on the floor, a pillow under her head. Morgana was nowhere in sight, though. Arthur stepped inside cautiously and saw the curtains rustle ever so slightly. He held up a hand to keep Merlin silent and approached the drapes silently. When he pulled it aside, sword in hand, he found himself face-to-face with a terrified, but very much conscious Morgana, who let out a loud shriek. Arthur was momentarily frightened, but recovered quickly and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of her. “It’s me! It’s me, Morgana,” he said reassuringly. Morgana looked at him with wide, worried eyes. “What happened?” he asked.

“I didn’t know it was you,” Morgana said, voice still shaky. 

Arthur slowed his own breathing. “Calm down, Morgana. Just tell me what happened.”

Morgana's lip trembled. “People were complaining, said they weren’t feeling well. And they started falling asleep. Everyone, everywhere I went.”

Arthur nodded, assessing the situation in his mind. “Was anyone here? A sorcerer, a mage, anyone?”

Morgana shook her head. “No, no one.”

Arthur looked her over, searching for possible injuries. But then he drew his eyebrows together in confusion. “How is it that you’re unaffected? Everyone else in the entire city has fallen asleep.”

Morgana watched him with glistening, scared eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Great,” Arthur said with a huff. “We should find my father. Whoever is behind this, their end goal must be his destruction.” He stepped away.

Morgana grabbed his arm. “Wait!” She looked down. “Can you move Gwen to my bed? I tried to lift her, but my arms were shaking, and I was worried I would drop her.”

Arthur was somewhat caught off-guard by the request, but he complied. He carefully laid Guinevere on top of the sheets, and moved to the door where Merlin was standing. He watched as Morgana lingered by Guinevere's side for a moment, gently brushing a lock of Gwen's hair from her face. She had always cared deeply for her servants.

Morgana straightened up. Arthur opened the door. “We should go,” he said, and stepped outside.

Merlin and Morgana followed behind him on their way to the King’s chambers, talking in hushed tones. Arthur wished Merlin were as open and honest with him as he had been before… before all this.

He found his father slumped over his desk, asleep but otherwise unharmed. Arthur leaned back against the desk as Merlin and Morgana entered.

Merlin looked at Uther's unconscious form. “What now?” he asked Arthur.

Arthur sighed. “I don’t know, I–“ He wanted to question Morgana again, still bothered by the fact that she seemed to be completely unaffected, but he held back. She had kept his secrets, as he had hers. He believed her when she said she didn’t know why. “Merlin, can you see if Gaius started working on a cure? Or if there is anything you can do?” he said with a meaningful look.

Merlin nodded in understanding. “Of course,” he said, and sprinted out of the chamber.

Arthur paced back and forth. “I should search the lower town. Maybe there are still people there who haven’t been affected.”

Morgana wrapped her arms around herself nervously. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Even if there are others, what could they possibly do?”

“I– I don’t know, alright?” Arthur exclaimed. “But I can’t just sit here and do nothing! Not when people’s lives depend on it.”

Morgana worried her lip and stepped closer to the windows. “I understand, I just– what is that?” she said suddenly. 

Arthur walked to her side and felt dread settle into his stomach. “The Knights of Medhir.” He watched the eight figures ride. Seven knights and their leader. “And someone is with them.”

Morgana turned to look at Arthur, with fear and a hint of something else on her face. “What do we do?”

Arthur stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “I'm going to get Merlin. Wait for us here, alright?”

Morgana nodded, looking back at the riders.

Arthur ran towards Gaius' quarters. Inside, he stumbled into Merlin with a spellbook in hand, and Gaius inexplicably on the floor and drenched in water. “Have you found anything?” he asked.

Merlin shook his head. “Nothing is working. I can keep trying, but I’ll run out of spells soon.”

“Don’t bother. We're being attacked.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “By whom?”

“The Knights of Medhir,” Arthur said. “With someone leading them.”

Merlin’s face crumbled. “Damn it. How close were they?”

“Too close,” Arthur said with a sigh. “Is there really nothing you can do?”

Merlin frowned, thinking deeply. He looked at Arthur, contemplating him. “There might be something, but I… I have to do it alone.”

“No,” Arthur said instantly. “I'm tired of the secrets you've been keeping, Merlin.” Merlin looked caught off-guard, staring at Arthur with surprise. Arthur tightened his jaw. “I understand why you've kept to yourself the past three moons, I do, but the future of Camelot is at stake here. Whatever you’re about to do, I'm doing it with you.”

Merlin looked conflicted, but Arthur’s tone left no room for argument. Merlin fidgeted with his sleeve cuff. “I'm going to ask the dragon under the castle for advice.”

Arthur stared at him blankly. What? “What?” he said intelligently.

Merlin pursed his lips. “Your father has been keeping the last dragon underneath the Citadel since the Great Purge. He called out to me when I first arrived in Camelot, and he's provided me with help sometimes.” He smiled bitterly. “And sometimes his words were not as useful as they first seemed.”

Arthur took a deep breath. Alright. A dragon. A talking dragon. It seemed like he hadn’t known all of Merlin’s great secrets after all. But he forced himself to look past all of it. There was too much at stake. “And you think he might be able to help?” Merlin nodded. “Let’s go, then,” Arthur said. “We don’t have much time.”

Merlin led them to the dungeons, and then even further down through a hidden passage. They walked down the massive staircase side by side. Arthur heard the breaths of the creature before he saw it, and once he did glimpse it, he almost recoiled. The beast was bigger than any other he had seen, its dusty gold scales reflecting the light of the torch. It appeared to be asleep until Arthur and Merlin arrived on the platform in front of it. It opened a large, golden eye, slit pupils staring right at Arthur. It lifted its gigantic head. “This is certainly an interesting turn of events, young warlock. The young Pendragon's arrival is quite unexpected. How unfortunate that the trip is a useless one.”

“You haven’t even listened to what I have to say!” Merlin complained.

The dragon turned its head judgmentally. “I don’t need to listen to you, Merlin. You always say the same thing: ‘Help me’. And yet you refuse to give anything in return. Now you will face the consequence of that decision. Camelot’s end is nigh, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Arthur looked at Merlin, whose face was starting to fill with anger and desperation. “I know I promised to free you, and I will!” Merlin said. Arthur watched the struggle in his expression. The dragon laughed mockingly. “I will, I promise.”

“I no longer trust your promises,” the dragon said.

“Then how about mine?” Arthur interjected.

Merlin jerked around to look at him. “What are you doing?”

“What I must,” Arthur told him. “If the dragon truly will tell us to save Camelot, I am willing to risk releasing it.”

Merlin watched Arthur with something akin to surprise. He turned to the dragon. “So am I.”

The creature looked at them, its scrutinising golden gaze steady. “Very well,” it said. “The power to maintain a spell of this magnitude is no small feat. It will need more than just words to break this enchantment.”

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked.

“You must eradicate the source. A vessel is required for magic such as this. That source is the Lady Morgana.”

“It can’t be,” Merlin protested.

Arthur drew his sword. “You lie.”

The dragon chuckled. “I do no such thing, young prince. The witch has indeed turned her back on you.”

Arthur took a step forward. “You have no right to insult her like that!” he spat.

The beast let out an amused sound. “I see you do not yet realise the truth behind my words. She must be killed, or Camelot is doomed.”

“No,” Arthur said, shaking his head. “I won’t listen to this any longer. Come on, Merlin.” Arthur stepped towards the stairs. Merlin didn’t follow. “Merlin! That’s an order!” Arthur said, furious that Merlin would even consider such a thing.

With one last look at the dragon, Merlin fell into step with Arthur.

As they reached the top of the staircase, Arthur leaned against the wall to steady himself. “You alright?” Merlin asked, looking a little pale himself.

“Are you feeling the same?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded. “We're getting sick.”

And yet Morgana was still in perfect health. But she couldn’t– she wouldn’t betray Camelot like that. Arthur saw the way Merlin was looking at him, and his face darkened. “You cannot be thinking the dragon was telling the truth.”

Merlin looked hesitant. “He's rarely been wrong about things like this.”

“Well, he is now,” Arthur said with an intended air of finality, and started heading back to his father’s chambers.

Merlin hurried after him. “I'm just saying, there might be a possibility that–“

Arthur snapped back around to look at him. “No,” he said harshly. “Even if it is as the dragon said, she must have been tricked. Don’t you remember how terrified she looked? I thought you knew her well enough to realise she wouldn’t do anything to purposefully cause harm to the people of Camelot.”

“She’s my friend! Of course I don’t want to believe she would be capable of doing such things, but what other explanation is there to why she has been unaffected?” And that was the question, wasn’t it?

Arthur sighed. “I don’t know, alright? But I do know that there will be no murder taking place here. I'll talk to her.”

Merlin frowned. “How do you know she'll tell you the truth?”

“I don’t. Not for certain. But I trust her enough to believe that she will.” Arthur wiped the sweat off of his forehead. “We should hurry. The knights could arrive at any time now.”

Merlin didn’t say anything more, but nonetheless he stayed by Arthur’s side as they traversed the empty halls. 

As they opened the doors to the King’s chambers, they were met with the sharp point of a sword. Arthur stumbled back into Merlin as Morgana let out a sigh of relief. “What took you so long?” she asked.

Arthur shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We need to get moving. If there is to be a battle then we'll need more open space.” He stood deep in thought for a few moments. Then it hit him. “The throne room. It only has one opening, so we'll know where they will be coming from, and there will be plenty of space.”

“But we'll be trapped in a dead end!” Morgana protested.

Arthur looked at her with determination. “Yes, but it’s still our best option. You didn’t see the way they fought, Morgana, they’re vicious and clever. We'll have no chance for survival if we let them surround us.”

“We’ll have no chance anyway,” Merlin said.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Ever the optimist, Merlin.”

Merlin scoffed. “They’re immortal! I'm just being realistic when I say that when us three humans are faced with seven immortals, our chances don’t look very good.”

Arthur sighed. “We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He walked up to his father and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Now come on, grab his legs, help me carry him.”

Merlin didn’t look all too happy at the way Arthur derailed the conversation, but he complied. Morgana looked on, apprehension in her eyes. “And what do you want me to do?” she asked.

Arthur thought about it. “Be on the lookout. If you see or hear anything, notify me immediately. Alright?” Morgana nodded. “Good,” Arthur said, and signalled to Merlin with a nod to lift. Together the two of them manoeuvred the unconscious King into a carriable position. Arthur felt the sleeping sickness start to really get to him as they headed to the throne room, Morgana hot on their heels.

Fortunately, it seemed luck was on their side, as Morgana stayed quiet all throughout the trip. The halls echoed ominously with their steps.

The throne room stood just as empty as the rest of the castle. There weren’t even any sleeping people. Arthur and Merlin carefully laid the King down by the back wall, out of the way of any possible battle. With nothing more than a shared look, they both headed for the doors. They closed and barred them with a sturdy plank of wood. Arthur leaned against it, allowing his eyes to flutter closed for just a moment, tired and flushed from the illness. As he forced his eyelids open, he saw that Merlin was in a similar state. Despite the stress and the danger and the fight they'd had earlier, Arthur couldn’t help but smile at him. Merlin returned the gesture briefly, but then his expression fell. “If this is the last time we see each other…” He trailed off.

A wave of dizziness hit Arthur. If Merlin was about to bring up the unsaid things between them, he wasn’t sure he could handle it.

“I don’t want our last conversation to have been an argument,” Merlin said quietly, and Arthur almost breathed a sigh of relief. “You were right about what you said about Morgana. The dragon has betrayed me before, manipulated me into life-altering decisions with consequences I wasn’t prepared to face. If there is any other way out of this mess, I know it will be you who finds it.”

Arthur felt the corners of his lips lift up. “Thank you for having faith in me.”

Merlin grinned. “Of course. I know you will be a great king one day. Even if you are an arrogant prat sometimes.”

Arthur huffed out a laugh and ruffled Merlin’s hair, who pulled his head back to escape the offending hand. Arthur had half a mind to try again, but they were running out of time. “I'll talk to Morgana.”

Merlin nodded, smile waning. “I'll keep watch. If I sense anything, I'll tell you.”

“Alright,” Arthur said. He reached out for Merlin’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “If I need a servant in the next life…”

Merlin grinned. “Don’t ask me.”

Arthur looked at him with unabashed affection one more time, then let go of his hand. He approached Morgana, who was sitting close to Uther's sleeping body. Arthur took a seat next to her. “You seem troubled,” he said.

Morgana didn’t look at him. “I'm worried about the people of Camelot.”

Arthur kept his eyes on her. “So am I. But it’s something else, I can tell.”

Morgana glanced at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Morgana,” Arthur started as he finally caught her gaze with his own. “I'm only trying to help you. Please, tell me what it is.”

Morgana shook her head. Her lip trembled. “I can’t, I– I didn’t want any of this!”

Arthur took one of Morgana's hands between his own. “Tell me. I'm not going to blame you or tell anyone.”

“But it is my fault,” Morgana said, a single tear spilling over and rolling elegantly down her cheek. “I only wished for Uther to be gone, and instead the whole city is suffering.”

So that horrid oversized lizard had been partially right, at least. But it was clear she didn’t intend to go this far. “Are you working with anyone? A sorcerer maybe?” Fear sparked in Morgana’s eyes, and Arthur squeezed her hand reassuringly. “It's alright, I just want to know.”

“Morgause,” she said. “It's Morgause's enchantment. But she didn’t say– I thought it was only Uther who would be affected! I wanted him gone so badly that I was desperate enough to make it happen without knowing about the cost, and I'm… I'm sorry.” 

More tears joined the first, and Arthur sat there for a moment, not knowing what to do. He was surprised to learn that Morgause was the one behind this; he'd really thought her intentions were good since she'd helped him speak with his mother. But there were more important things at hand now. “Is there any way you can communicate with her? Tell her that you want to end this?”

Morgana shook her head. “No, I would have long done that if I did.”

Arthur took a deep breath. That wasn’t ideal, to say the least. “She must be the one leading the Knights of Medhir. The only thing we can do is wait her out in here. Then we will negotiate.”

“I'm not sure if she'll listen. She wants Uther gone.” Morgana looked at the King's still form. “And so do I.”

Arthur glanced at his father, laid out and defenceless. “And yet you didn’t kill him when I left the two of you alone.”

Morgana pursed her lips. “I wanted to. I still do. But I can’t. All the atrocities he's committed, all the innocents he slaughtered, and yet all I could think about when I raised my blade is that he took me in when my father died, that he raised me as his own daughter.” She looked into Arthur’s eyes, her teal irises sparkling with tears. “I hate him. I hate him. But there’s a part of me that loves him, and it won’t let me kill him. I can’t help it.”

Arthur stared at the woman he'd grown to think of a sister. The vulnerability in her eyes couldn’t let him stay silent. “I understand. I wish I didn’t, but I do.” He took a deep breath and steeled his jaw. “When Morgause was last here in Camelot, you may remember she had me swear to complete a challenge of her choosing. Once I faced her test and passed it, she summoned my mother’s spirit.” Morgana’s eyes widened, but she didn’t interrupt, which Arthur was extremely thankful for. “She was the one who told me of the true circumstances of my birth. About how my father used magic to sacrifice her life for mine.” Arthur clenched his hands into fists, the memory of his anger still powerful.

“Oh, Arthur. I'm so sorry,” Morgana breathed.

Arthur smiled wryly. What was he to say to that? That it was alright? No, it wasn’t, it very much wasn’t. “I have known the true extent of his hypocrisy since then, and I hate him for it. I hate him for slaughtering innocents in the wake of his guilt. I hate him for lying to me all my life. I hate him for the way he keeps all those with magic living in fear.” He took a deep breath. “But I still love him despite it all. I love him, because he is my father, and I don’t know what it is to not love him.”

Morgana watched him for a couple moments, then surged forward and wrapped her arms around him. Arthur sat there motionlessly for a few moments, and then slowly lifted his arms to awkwardly pat Morgana on the back. She pulled away after only a few moments. “So what does this all mean?” she asked, a little desperate.

Arthur sighed. “It means I want his ways gone, and I want him off the throne. But I will not kill him.”

Morgana drew her eyebrows together. “What, you'll just wait until he dies by some other way? Watch as he kills more innocents?” 

Arthur glanced back over his shoulder at Merlin, who was busy listening for movement on the other side of the door. “Not nothing.” He looked back at Morgana. “I'll fight him any way I can. I can call off raids, help sorcerers escape.”

“No.” Morgana shook her head. “I refuse to accept that that is the only way. It could be decades yet before Uther is dead!”

Arthur let out a long breath. “Morgana, I–“

“They’re here!” Merlin called out suddenly, as he backed away from the door. 

Arthur picked up his sword and met him in the centre of the room. “How much did you hear?”

Merlin shrugged. “Not all that much, but I think I got the gist. You really think Morgause can be negotiated with?”

“I have to try,” was all Arthur said.

The doors shook with a sudden, powerful blow. Arthur glanced at Merlin, who was looking at him reassuringly. Splinters began to fly from the doors as Morgana joined the two of them, standing by Arthur’s left. Within moments, two of the Knights were through. Arthur raised his sword in a defensive stance. 

From behind the Knights, a figure in familiar armour stepped forward. “Morgause!” Arthur called out. “I wish to negotiate with you.”

Morgause stopped, the Knights of Medhir around her in a protective circle. She pulled her helmet off and took in the sight of the three of them. “What is the meaning of this?” she said, frowning.

“This isn’t what I wanted when I wished for Uther's death,” Morgana said.

Morgause looked at her with something akin to betrayal. “Sister,” she said, and Arthur’s eyes widened. That was not something Morgana had cared to mention. “I only wanted what was best for you,” Morgause continued.

“But I only wanted Uther’s death! I didn’t want the entire city to suffer for it,” Morgana said defiantly.

Morgause took a step closer. “I did what was necessary.”

“So it was necessary to put the whole of Camelot to sleep and leave them completely defenceless?” Arthur asked. “I expected better of you after what you showed me.”

Morgause’s expression darkened. “Clearly what I showed you failed to change anything.”

Arthur lurched forward, but Merlin’s steady hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s changed everything,” Arthur hissed. 

“And yet Uther Pendragon still lives.”

“And what would change if he didn’t?” Arthur asked, frustrated. “The council all support his views, and too many have grown up in this new world without the chance to see what magic truly is like. I myself had been one of them for most of my life. So what if I killed my father? Sorcerers may see me as a hero, but the rest of the people? All they will see is a kingdom built of bloodshed and patricide.”

Morgause stayed silent. Morgana spoke up. “Please, sister, lift the enchantment for now. I can’t stand to see the people suffer any longer.”

Morgause pursed her lips. Then, with her sigh, the Knights of Medhir crumpled to the ground, nothing more than cold armour and dust. “I will not lift the sleeping spell yet. I will not negotiate if Uther Pendragon is awake.”

“Very well,” Arthur said with a nod. He took in the sight of the seven piles of armour around Morgause. Seven all around one… “Are you willing to hear out what I have to say?”

Morgause inclined her head. “I am.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I want to evoke the Law of the Circle.” Merlin and Morgana looked at him with confusion, while Morgause drew her eyebrows together.

“What you speak of is impossible,” she said.

“I know it won’t be easy, that it hasn’t been evoked in centuries, but I believe that if my father’s true ways are revealed, it's possible.”

Morgause scoffed. “It would be impossible to convince seven kings to join even a cause much simpler than what you plan.”

“Can someone explain to me what we’re talking about here?” Merlin interjected.

“The Law of the Circle was created in an ancient contract between the kingdoms of Albion,” Arthur explained. “It says that if in a kingdom the ruling monarch has committed an act so heinous that all the rulers of the bordering lands oppose his power, they can forcibly remove him from the throne by declaring him dead in the eyes of the law.”

Morgana stared at Arthur. “What you’re saying is that we should negotiate with all seven kingdoms that border Camelot and convince them to remove Uther from the throne? That’s ludicrous!”

“My sister is right, what you propose is nonsense. They would never respect the authority of a mere prince, especially one who has something to gain from this.”

Arthur nodded. “That is true. But they might respect a fellow monarch. That is where you would play a role.”

Merlin stepped closer to him. “Arthur, are you sure–“ Arthur held up his hand to keep him quiet, and for once, Merlin obeyed.

Arthur looked at the thoughtful frown on Morgause’s face. “Are you suggesting I take the throne of one of the neighbouring kingdoms?”

Arthur nodded. “I am, yes.”

Morgause gave him a look of surprise and something almost like wonder. “You would trust me to do that after all I have done?”

Arthur sighed. It was true that Morgause's actions had been… questionable at best. But that wasn’t the whole picture. “Your methods were certainly poor, but your intention was not at all despicable. You only wished to provide freedom and happiness to your people. There is something quite respectable about that, I believe.”

Morgause looked at Arthur for a long moment. “You are not at all the man I believed you to be, Arthur Pendragon. You have given me hope that the prophecies perhaps aren’t too good to be true after all.” Arthur had no idea what prophecies she spoke of, but it was clear Morgause had not finished. “There are some things you must know of, though. I cannot accept your allegiance if they go unsaid.”

“Speak them, then,” Arthur said.

“The truth you have learned from your mother is not the complete picture. There is something Ygraine could not have known. Uther knew a life would have to be taken in exchange for yours, that is true. But he did not consider that life would be your mother’s. Nimueh warned him, of course, but he did not realise the true meaning of her words until it was too late.”

Arthur considered her words. “So he did not know it was her he was sacrificing?”

Morgause nodded. “He might have suspected deep down, even feared it perhaps, but he did not want to believe it. I must admit, my intentions were not entirely selfless when I showed you the truth. I was aware it would alter your perception of your father, and I hoped it would be enough to make you betray him.”

Arthur thought about all that she had said. His father might not have intended for Ygraine's death, but he was still willing to sacrifice an innocent. And what did intention matter when the consequence was so great? “Do you swear that you have told me the truth here, full and unaltered?”

Morgause bowed her head. “I swear.”

“Very well,” Arthur said with a nod. “This changes nothing. My offer still stands. If you give me your word that you will not use methods that destroy as carelessly as you have today, my allegiance and loyalty are yours. But I warn you; your part will not be easy. To take the throne of a kingdom is no mean feat.”

Morgause nodded, a spark of determination in her eyes. “I know. But there is already a kingdom I have set my sights on. Cenred's people hold no loyalty towards him. His taxes have bled his citizens dry, he allows slave traders free rein, and he treats even his highest ranking with total disregard. I believe it would not be hard to turn his kingdom against him. Cenred knows me and the power I hold, and so do his men. They already hold some respect for me. With time, I can see that growing into something more.”

An impressed smile made its way onto Arthur’s face. “It seems you have thought about this already.”

Morgause smirked. “I always have backup plans.”

“As a true strategist should,” Arthur said. “Of course, I will provide any feasible help you ask of me. In that time, I will do my best to expose my father's cruelty. Do we have a deal?” He took a step forward and held out his hand.

Morgause did the same, and their hands met in a handshake. Her grip was steady and firm. It felt like something had shifted in the world. “You have given me far more than an opportunity,” Morgause said, her hand still in Arthur’s, her gaze intense but open. “You have shown me what you will be, and you have given me a future to believe in.”

Arthur was struck speechless for a moment. Morgause’s words held absolute power and dedication he had rarely heard before. “I only wish to do what is fair and just,” he said finally.

Morgause pulled her hand back. She smiled secretively to herself. “And that is exactly what will save us all.”

Morgana stepped forward to Arthur’s side. “Your plan still sounds half-mad to me, but if you truly believe you can accomplish this, I will be by your side.”

Arthur grinned at her appreciatively. Then it was Merlin who joined his side. As Arthur looked at him, he saw such unabashed devotion and pride in Merlin’s eyes that it made him dizzy. “I have always believed in the kingdom you will build. You have shown time and time again that you are more than worth fighting for. You will always have my support, no matter what you do.”

Arthur looked over the three of them: his allies from this day onward. It felt like something truly monumental. “It is decided, then,” he said with finality. 

Morgause inclined her head. “Very well. I will lift the enchantment now.”

“Wait!” Morgana interrupted. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she said to Arthur. 

Arthur looked at her sudden words with surprise. He tilted his head to the side expectantly.

“I will be leaving Camelot with Morgause,” Morgana said.

Arthur’s eyes widened with shock. “Morgana, you can’t… what brought this on?”

She pursed her lips. “I can’t stay here any longer, not under these laws.” Her eyes flitted around Arthur’s face nervously. “Not when I have magic.”

Arthur stared at her, watching for any sign that she wasn’t serious. But it was clear that Morgana was telling the truth. Somehow, it explained more than Arthur wished to admit – her defiance of Uther, the truth there was to be found in some of her old nightmares, and that was just the start. Gods, she must have been going mad hiding all that from the very man who raised her. “You could still stay,” he found himself saying. “I could help you stay hidden, we all could. Me, Merlin, even Guinevere if you trust her enough to tell her.”

At the sound of her maidservant’s name, a strange, solemn look passed over Morgana's face. She shook her head. “I can’t. I'm tired of hiding who I am, Arthur. I just wish I could be my true self, and I cannot do that here. And I need to learn how to control my magic. Morgause has offered to teach me.”

Arthur wanted to protest more, try to convince her to stay. But deep down he knew he shouldn’t. Her motives were more than reasonable. He thought of Merlin. Didn’t his manservant have these same thoughts? Arthur did not wish to dwell on the possibility. “If you truly believe it is what’s best for you, I won’t stop you.” Not that Morgana would let anyone stop her from doing something she had set her mind to.

Morgana grinned brighter than Arthur had seen in many winters. “I do.” She moved to stand by Morgause’s side.

“Be careful, alright?” Arthur said with a bittersweet smile.

Morgana returned it. “Never,” she said. “In case I wish to return while Uther is still king… tell him I was taken. He will not suspect foul play on my part if he believes I left against my will.” Her expression softened suddenly. “And Gwen. Tell Gwen…” Morgana hesitates, then something in her eyes sparkled. “Oh, she knows.” 

With that last vague message, Morgause began to chant. Her eyes shone with molten gold. A wave of magic washed over the room, and the tiredness that Arthur had been fighting faded. A gust of wind began to pick up. Morgause cast one last look at Arthur. “Until we meet again, Arthur Pendragon,” she said, and the wind circled around her and Morgana until it swallowed them up completely, leaving nothing but empty space behind.

Arthur looked at Merlin, whose eyes were still glued to the spot where the two women had been standing. “Merlin, I–“ Arthur started, but was interrupted by the sounds of his father stirring awake.

Merlin looked at him with a reassuring smile. “Later,” he promised.

Arthur truly hoped that vow would indeed be kept. But for now, he had a lot to explain to the King.

After what had been an exhausting and long-winded conversation, all Arthur wished for was rest, but his mind kept him buzzing with awareness and the anticipation of conversation.

When the door to Arthur’s chambers closed behind Merlin, all the words Arthur had prepared slipped away like a cloud of breath in a cold wind. Merlin moved wordlessly to help Arthur out of his armour. Arthur’s eyes followed the small movements of Merlin’s hands.

It was Merlin who broke the silence. “I can still hardly believe what happened today.”

Arthur most definitely agreed. He had woken up in the morning thinking it would be a day like any other, and now here he was, having begun to sow the seeds of his own father’s downfall. “Nor I.” He took a deep breath. “I'm still not sure if I made the right decision.”

Merlin’s hands stilled, and his gaze met Arthur’s. “I thought you were brilliant,” he said, eyes wide and honest. “You took a situation that I didn’t think could be solved without sacrifice, and you came out on top. That’s impressive. For a clotpole,” he added with a grin.

The corners of Arthur’s lips lifted up into a smile. He looked down at Merlin’s hands against his own arm. There was one more thing that had been gnawing at his mind since Morgana left with Morgause. “I wouldn’t have held it against you if you'd left with them. Your magic puts you as much at risk as it did Morgana.”

Looking back up at Merlin, he saw his manservant’s face had twisted into a confused frown, almost as if that thought hadn't even crossed his mind. “Well, I don’t want to leave Camelot.” His gaze bore into Arthur’s, clear and intense. “My place is by your side. I said one time that I am happy to serve you until the day I die, and that still stands.” His fingers twitched against the chainmail. “I don’t care about my safety, I care about being with you.”

Arthur’s heart stuttered in his chest. This stupid, irresponsible man would be his death one day. “I, on the other hand, do care about your safety. Merlin, if you were discovered and something happened to you, I couldn’t bear it.”

Merlin stepped back, and Arthur craved his touch again the moment he lost it. “I know. You've said it already.” Merlin looked down. “And I think we’ve taken enough precautions already.”

So that was what it all came down to in the end. Again. Arthur sighed. “You know I don’t want to keep my distance any more than you do.”

Merlin flinched suddenly, but recovered just as quickly. The movements seemed a bit unusual to Arthur, but he ignored it. “I know, I–“ Merlin ran a hand down his face. “I'm sorry.” He looked up at Arthur. “There was something you said earlier that I haven’t stopped thinking about. I'm sorry if I've felt distant this past winter. It was not my intention to keep secrets from you. I'll try to be more honest from now on, I swear it.”

But that wasn’t what Arthur wanted. He didn't want Merlin to force himself into honesty, he wanted what they'd had before. The full, easy trust there had been between them. It seemed he had ruined that forever now. “No, Merlin. I understand if you…” he started but trailed off when he saw the way Merlin’s eyes had glazed over. Arthur stepped closer. “Are you alright?” he asked.

That snapped Merlin out of his daze. “I'm–“ Merlin seemed to reconsider what he was going to say. He sighed and closed his eyes, placing his palm over his forehead. “It's the dragon. He keeps talking to me inside my head.”

Arthur’s eyebrows raised of their own accord. “It can do that?”

Merlin nodded, frowning. “Unfortunately. He is calling on my promise.”

Arthur’s irritation mixed with concern. “But the advice it gave was rubbish.”

“It had a part to play in the grand scheme of things,” Merlin said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. His face fell. “I don’t want to. I feel like something horrible is going to happen if I do.” He locked his gaze with Arthur’s. It was filled with worry. “But I think something even worse will come to pass if I don’t.”

Guilt gripped Arthur’s insides. “I shouldn’t have promised to set it free. This is all my fault, I'm sorry.”

Merlin drew his eyebrows together. “It's not your fault, you clotpole. I'm the one who promised to free him first. If he causes harm, it will be on me.”

Arthur wanted to argue, but Merlin’s tone left no room for disagreement. Arthur took a deep breath. “What are you going to do?” 

Merlin worried his lip. “I don’t think I have a choice in the matter.”

Right. If Merlin thought it was the right thing, Arthur would follow. “I'll go with you,” he said.

“No,” Merlin protested. “It’s my responsibility.”

“It's our responsibility. I gave it my word the same as you did.”

Merlin’s face crumpled. “Please,” he breathed. “Don’t come. I don’t want you to see me as I do it.”

The desperation in Merlin’s voice made Arthur’s stomach twist. “Alright,” he gave in. “If that is what you wish, I won’t insist otherwise.”

Merlin sighed, relieved. “Thank you.”

Arthur nodded in acknowledgment. Merlin stepped closer until he was standing right in front of Arthur. Arthur looked at him questioningly. “What are you doing?”

“You’re still in your chainmail,” Merlin said. The corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly, and it sent a small flutter through Arthur’s insides.

“Ah. Right,” Arthur said. 

Merlin took the hem of the mail and lifted it up and over Arthur’s head. The chain links obscured Arthur’s vision for a moment, and when they disappeared, it revealed Merlin once again. “That’s better,” he said. Arthur watched as he laid the mail on top of the discarded shoulder plate. He adjusted the links into order. “That will be all, right?” he asked without turning to look at Arthur.

“Yes,” Arthur confirmed. “That will be all.” Merlin straightened his back, and set out towards the door, “Merlin,” Arthur called after him. Merlin stopped, and reluctantly turned back. “Good luck,” Arthur told him. Merlin smiled nervously, and said nothing as he stepped out the door.

Arthur stared at the shut door for a long while after.

It turned out to be a disaster. Guilt wracked Arthur more and more with every soldier he saw die. He saw the same look in Merlin’s eyes whenever he helped carry another fallen warrior inside from the charred battlefield the courtyard had become.

The smoke burned Arthur’s lungs, and he welcomed the feeling as a sort of repentance. 

And when he felt the dragon’s claws dig into the flesh of his shoulder as he pushed Guinevere from its path, the pain felt deserved. Of course, when he led the concerned Guinevere back inside – what had she been doing out there in the first place? Arthur knew Morgana's absence had taken a toll on her, but surely not to this extent – Merlin rushed to him immediately and proceeded to give him an earful about safety and looking out for himself, and then insisted on cleaning to wound himself no matter how much Arthur insisted that his wound was nothing compared to what some of his fellow knights had suffered. Within moments, Arthur was made to sit down and stripped of his armour. Merlin’s cold, agile fingers cleaned the injuries with fresh water.

“You should have been more careful,” Merlin said, keeping his eyes on the wound.

Arthur watched Merlin’s focused expression. “I will do anything I can. No matter the cost.”

Merlin dropped his hand with a sigh. “Magic won’t stop him. I’ve tried everything, but it’s all useless.”

Arthur took Merlin’s hand in his own. “We’ll find something. Have faith.”

Merlin smiled, but Arthur could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

Soon enough, a solution did present itself after all, and no matter how difficult and dangerous it would be, Arthur knew he would do everything in his power to find the last dragonlord. Anything to save Camelot from the fate he had condemned it to.

Merlin was quiet on the way towards Essetir. Arthur spared him a few worried glances but didn’t confront him. It would have only served as a distraction from their surroundings, and especially once they entered Cenred's kingdom, it was too large of a risk to take. Once they settled down in their room at an inn, though, Arthur just couldn’t leave it alone.

He pulled off his tunic for the night. As he looked over his shoulder, he saw Merlin averting his gaze. It was ridiculous that Arthur could tell even from that small gesture that something was off about Merlin. He was never one to worry about being caught staring. “What is wrong with you today?” he asked.

“What?” Merlin muttered, looking at Arthur.

Arthur turned away. “As much as it pains me to admit it, I do enjoy your surly retorts.”

“Thanks,” Merlin said sarcastically.

“Usually, there is hardly a moment of silence when you’re around,” he said. He laid down, careful of his wound. “What is it?” he asked again.

Merlin turned away. “Nothing.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. Merlin could be a terrible liar at times for someone who was forced to do so much of it. “It’s something. Tell me.” Merlin stayed silent. Arthur sighed. “Look, I know things have been difficult between us at times. And it’s not easy to be honest with each other when things are all up in the air regarding… what happened.”

“What are you getting at?” Merlin asked, still facing away.

“Just– pretend it doesn’t exist for a bit. Pretend I'm not me. Pretend I’m not a prince.”

Merlin huffed out something almost like a laugh. “Well, if you weren’t a prince, I'd tell you to mind your own damn business.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said with fond exasperation. “Are you missing Gaius?”

“Something like that,” Merlin replied.

Arthur rolled his eyes. He picked up a pillow and threw it at Merlin. “Well what is it then?” 

Merlin rolled over to glare at him. In a moment, though, his expression turned serious. “I'll tell you.” He took a deep breath. “It’s Balinor.”

Arthur rolled to his side, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, and propped his head up with an elbow. He was intrigued now. “What about him?”

Merlin’s expression turned sour. “Before we left, Gaius told me something about him.” He locked his gaze with Arthur’s. “He told me Balinor is my father.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’re serious?”

Merlin nodded. “He knew, all this time. And he kept it from me. As did my mother.”

Arthur ran his eyes over Merlin’s pensive face. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling,” he admitted.

Merlin sighed. “I had a right to know. Didn’t I?” Arthur didn’t quite know what to say to that. Merlin turned his back to him. “I'm worried Balinor won’t be the good man I wish for him to be.”

Arthur stared at the messy strands of Merlin's hair for a while. He sighed and sat up.

At the rustling noise of the sheets, Merlin looked back at him again, eyebrows drawn together. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Arthur got up wordlessly and walked to Merlin’s bed. “Scoot over.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “Why?” he asked cautiously.

Arthur huffed. “You’re upset. Now go on.”

Something like amusement entered Merlin’s expression. “Is this your way of trying to comfort me?”

Arthur crossed his arms and ignored the way his face was heating up. “Keep asking stupid questions and I'll change my mind.”

“Alright, you prat,” Merlin said with a roll of his eyes, and moved closer to the wall on the narrow bed. Arthur laid down on the freed-up space, ignoring the way his wound protested.

Arthur’s head was mere inches from Merlin’s. He could feel the heat radiating from Merlin’s body all over, and it was intoxicating. But as much as he ached to, Arthur couldn’t bring himself to touch Merlin anywhere, going so far as to cautiously shift his legs so they wouldn’t accidentally make contact.

“I know you don’t intend to go back on your word, Arthur, but you know neither of us will be comfortable like this, right?” Merlin said. Ah, so he had noticed.

Arthur looked down. “I don’t…” he trailed off. There was no one out here that would catch them. No knights, loyal to the king to a fault. No nosy servants interested in things that were none of their business. No Uther, who would banish Merlin without a second thought.

And yet the fear of discovery still wouldn’t leave Arthur, a paranoid worry that someone would find out about his desire for Merlin and punish them both for it. It wasn’t that Arthur was ashamed to feel this way, not at all. He wished for nothing more than for the whole world to know of his love. But dread still settled inside him every time his heart rate spiked, or he caught his gaze lingering. It was instinctual, to feel this way now, to be afraid of suspicious eyes that would somehow gauge his thoughts just from looking at him.

Merlin reached out an apprehensive hand, and gently wrapped it around Arthur’s wrist. Arthur let Merlin guide his hand to his waist. Arthur’s calloused fingers touched the rough fabric of Merlin’s sleep tunic, warmed by Merlin’s body heat. “It’s alright,” Merlin said as he let go of Arthur’s wrist. “I know this doesn’t change things between us.” He moved his own hand to Arthur’s waist, careful of the bandages. He moved his legs as well so that they were touching Arthur’s.

Arthur caressed Merlin’s ribs with his thumb reluctantly. Merlin, encouraged by this, wiggled himself closer. Arthur’s arm, trembling slightly, moved to a more comfortable position. They were face-to-face now, lying on their sides in something that almost resembled an embrace.

“How’s your shoulder?” Merlin asked quietly.

Arthur pulled a face. “Could be better. I'll live.”

“You better,” Merlin said, and closed his eyes. Arthur did the same.

When he was awoken by a noise, he had Merlin’s body pulled flush against his own. Fortunately, the intruder gave him a perfectly good excuse not to think too hard about that, and within just a few moments he had even managed to learn Balinor's location. What the thief had to say about the dragonlord himself, though, was not very reassuring.

Arthur’s shoulder ached as he and Merlin walked their horses to where Balinor supposedly dwelled. His mind felt sort of fuzzy at the edges, but he had to concentrate on the mission. He stumbled on a piece of tree root. Merlin looked at him worriedly. “It’s alright,” Arthur reassured him.

Merlin stopped. “No, it’s the wound. Let me have a look.” Arthur was about to protest, when the sound of a snapping branch reached him. “Get down. Get down!” Merlin whispered, and Arthur obeyed him. He'd always thought Merlin's voice sounded very nice. And comforting. Just like whatever he was laying on now. Maybe Balinor wouldn’t mind waiting for a few more moments so that Arthur could take a little nap.

When he awoke, it was to the sound of two voices. He only recognized one of them. Merlin. “Merlin,” he mumbled. Within just moments, Merlin was by his side.

“Nice of you to finally get your lazy arse up,” he said.

Arthur blinked his eyes open to see Merlin’s smiling face. “What happened?”

Merlin nodded towards Arthur’s shoulder. “Your wound got infected and you passed out. Which wouldn’t have happened if you'd told me your shoulder wasn’t getting better.” Arthur rolled his eyes, and Merlin chuckled. “How are you feeling?”

Arthur shifted his shoulder. There was barely a twinge of pain. He sat up. “Great, actually.” Unusually so. “What the hell did you give me?”

Merlin looked back over his shoulder. “It was all down to Balinor.”

Arthur felt his brows raise in surprise. “You found him?”

Merlin nodded. “Doesn’t mean he's willing to help,” he said, dejected.

“What?” Arthur looked past Merlin, where a man with long, greying hair was moving around. “Does he know?”

Merlin caught Arthur’s eye. “I told him what’s at stake.”

Arthur studied Merlin’s expression. “All of it?”

Merlin shook his head. “Not yet. I was about to just before you woke.” His expression turned sour. “I'm not sure if it would change anything, though. He's not really the man I hoped he would be.”

“I'm sorry,” Arthur said.

Merlin’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah.”

Arthur looked back at the man who was obviously Balinor. “Maybe I can talk to him.”

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t know if that’ll help.”

Arthur shrugged. “It’s worth a try.”

A try it was, and a try it remained. Balinor wasn’t swayed. 

Merlin was waiting by the mouth of the cave. “What did he say?” he asked.

Arthur couldn’t bring himself to break it to him. “Just… give him a moment.”

Balinor approached them. “Farewell, then.”

Anger rose in Arthur. “That’s your decision?”

“I will not help Uther,” Balinor said harshly.

“Then the people of Camelot are damned,” Arthur said, desperate.

“So be it,” Balinor replied with damning finality.

It made Arthur’s blood boil. “Have you no conscience?!” he shouted.

“You should ask that question of your father,” Balinor spat.

He was right. Arthur knew that now. But he still couldn’t help the righteous anger rising in him. “My father’s atrocities are numerous, that is true. But I fail to see why more innocent citizens should suffer for his crimes.”

“You’re no better than Uther,” Merlin added, looking Balinor in the eye. Arthur couldn’t imagine what he must have been feeling. “Gaius spoke of the nobility of dragonlords. Clearly, he was wrong,” Merlin said coldly.

Balinor's eyes lit up in recognition. “Gaius?”

Merlin nodded. “Yes.”

“A good man,” Balinor said.

Merlin gave him a wry smile. “Yeah. I was hoping you would be more like him.”

Arthur looked at Merlin, trying to figure out what was going on in that head of his. “Merlin?”

Merlin kept his gaze on Balinor. “I wanted to…” he trailed off and sighed. “Well there’s no point.” And with that, he turned his back on the ageing dragonlord.

Arthur took one last look at Balinor before following Merlin.

Arthur didn’t quite know what to say to Merlin after all that, and so he waited until they stopped for the night before attempting conversation. “I always thought that silence wasn’t something you were capable of,” he said, aiming for light teasing to brighten the mood as he watched Merlin busying himself.

“Thanks,” Merlin said unenthusiastically.

“Oh, come on,” Arthur teased. “You charm everyone off their feet still, in spite of your maddening personality.”

Merlin looked over his shoulder. “Does that include you?” he said, a challenge in his voice.

Arthur smiled bitterly. “You know it does.”

Merlin was surprised into a moment of silence, but he didn’t retreat as Arthur thought he would have, taking the distraction from his thoughts for what it was. “You could show it more often then. You’re still the same supercilious prat.”

Arthur smiled at him teasingly. “That’s a big word, Merlin. You sure know what it means?”

“Condescending,” Merlin answered easily.

“Very good,” Arthur nodded.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I'm not as stupid as you seem to think.”

Arthur rose to the chance of some verbal sparring. “Oh yeah? Prove it!”

Merlin raised his eyebrows with a laugh. “What, do you want more big words? I can give you big words. Confluence, parlance…” Arthur’s head snapped up as he heard the snap of a twig. “…resplendent, erudite–“

“Shh. Merlin!” Arthur cut him off, picking his sword up as he spoke.

“But you wanted me to talk,” Merlin complained, but then another branch broke somewhere, and he perked up as well, reaching for a weapon. They both followed the sound until they heard the trees rustle behind them.

“Careful, boy.” Arthur whipped around to see Balinor’s shaggy ensemble. “I thought you might need some help. This is a dangerous country.”

Arthur blinked at him, flabbergasted. He didn’t hesitate to get to the point. “And will you return to Camelot with us?”

Balinor inclined his head. “You were right, the both of you. There are some in Camelot who risked their lives for me, and some who don’t deserve to suffer the consequences of Uther's crimes.”

Arthur looked at Merlin, who had been rendered speechless. He turned back to Balinor. “If you succeed in killing the dragon, you will not go unrewarded.”

Balinor scoffed. “I seek no reward.”

Arthur held back a smile. Like father like son, he supposed. “Very well. Let’s eat.” He glanced at Merlin once again, who was looking at Balinor, conflicted. Moments like this were the ones when Arthur wished he'd been born a mind-reader. But then again, Merlin tended to have that effect on him. 

Still, he made sure to give him and Balinor some space as they gathered firewood, and it was worth it for the small smile he saw on his manservant’s face as he prepared the fire. Arthur looked at him questioningly, and the reassuring nod soothed his nerves somewhat.

Merlin glanced at Balinor warily before he lit the damp logs with a spell. The shining gold in his eyes sent a not too unpleasant shiver down Arthur’s spine. 

Balinor raised his eyebrows, and looked almost impressed as he measured up Arthur. “You really are quite different from your father, aren’t you, boy?”

Arthur looked at the warm, hypnotic flames. “As I said. My father's atrocities are without number. When I am king, I will work to atone for them.”

Merlin beamed at him, and Balinor looked cautious. “Careful what you promise, young prince.”

Arthur glanced at Merlin. “Had you asked me when I was a winter younger, I wouldn’t have thought so. But since then… I've come to learn some things that changed my perspective. I swear on my mother’s grave. I want to do the right thing.” Pride and devotion shone in Merlin’s eyes. Arthur could hardly look at him.

Balinor hummed thoughtfully. “You’re not at all what I expected, Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur smiled at Merlin. “I had some help with that.”

Merlin returned the grin, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to reach out and commit the memory of his expression into his fingertips.

Balinor cleared his throat. “The fire seems ready.”

Arthur turned away, feeling a flush crawl up his face. “Right.”

When morning came, Arthur woke to the faint sounds of footsteps and the clanking of armour. He was instantly alert. Bugger. He would have to wake Merlin and Balinor. This was not going to be pretty.

That had been an understatement. Men swarmed their camp mere moments later. Arthur fought with all his might and had finished off the last of his attackers when he heard a barely-human roar from behind him. Adrenaline still coursing through his veins, he rushed to the source, only to see dead bandits thrown against the trees, and Merlin bent over Balinor’s form. In an instant, his stomach filled with dread. He inched forward carefully. 

He heard Merlin’s soft sniffles before he saw anything. And then once he did see the spreading stain of blood on Balinor's abdomen, he wished he hadn’t looked at all. 

“Damn it,” he cursed, because what else could he say? Merlin turned back to look at him, only just now having noticed his presence. Arthur wished to reach out, put a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder, pull him close and not care about the tears seeping into his tunic, but faced with the grief on Merlin’s face, he froze. 

Camelot may as well be doomed now, and yet Arthur would rather think about that than the expression of sorrow on Merlin’s face.

The journey back was a solemn one, quiet with grief and dread. But Arthur would rather die than let Camelot fall without even trying, and so he still planned to ride out with his knights.

As Merlin helped him into his armour, Arthur watched his closed-off expression with increasing restlessness. If he was to die today, he did not want his last memory of Merlin to be of that edge of grief in his expression. “Well, look on the bright side, Merlin,” he started in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Chances are you're not going to have to clean this again.”

Merlin’s expression stayed the same. “You must be careful today. Do not force the battle.”

“Yes, Sire!” Arthur said sarcastically.

Merlin gave him a look. “I'm serious.”

“I can hear that.” There was something in Merlin’s eyes that Arthur couldn’t quite grasp. Merlin tried to avoid his gaze, but Arthur wouldn’t let him. “What are you not telling me?”

Merlin sighed. “Gaius told me something.” He turned away. “When Balinor died, I… I might have inherited his powers.”

Arthur watched the way Merlin’s shoulders lifted with a deep breath. “So there might be a way after all?”

Merlin nodded, still facing away. “But I won’t know until I face the dragon.”

Of course there was a catch. Arthur took a step towards Merlin. “Merlin, if I die, please…” he trailed off when Merlin turned around to look at him.

His eyes were red-rimmed and wide, shining with a million unsaid things. The way the light shone upon his face made him look ethereal. Arthur had always thought Merlin looked otherworldly, but never so much as now. “What?” he asked, looking at Arthur like he was the sun itself.

Arthur was left breathless by the devotion, reminded of all the little moments they had shared. That day in the snow, in the throne room while hiding from the Knights of Medhir, in the small inn on their way to Balinor. He thought of the way it ached to have Merlin so close, and yet made so unreachable by his own actions. “If I die, there will be many things I will regret. But most of all, that I gave up on what was between us.” Saying it out loud now, Arthur realised that he meant it. He truly did wish he hadn’t decided to push Merlin away that day. Merlin looked at him now with wide eyes. “I just wanted you to know that. And given the chance, I would change it in a heartbeat. And so,” Arthur's tongue darted out to moisten his lower lip. Merlin’s eyes followed the movement. “If we don’t die, I want to try again, do it right this time. If you'll still have me.”

Merlin gave him a weepy grin. “Of course I do, you clotpole. I said I would, didn’t I?”

Arthur glanced at Merlin’s lips, unable to stop his own from tugging into a smile. “Good, that’s, I'm–“

Merlin cut his stammering off by pulling him in for an open-mouthed, bruising kiss that left Arthur's insides to be consumed by buzzing lightning-like warmth. He kissed Merlin with all he had and more, and Merlin pulled him closer and closer and infinitely closer until Arthur didn’t know where he ended and Merlin started anymore. Arthur was swallowed up in an infinite sea of heat and skin and the blood rushing in his ears, and he would have gladly stayed like that forever if Merlin hadn’t pulled away. Not willing to let go yet, he held Merlin in a close embrace. 

“You’re gonna crush me if you don’t let go soon,” Merlin said playfully into his ear.

Arthur shrugged, not loosening his grip whatsoever. “Well, too bad,” he declared, and buried his face in Merlin’s soft, dark hair.

Merlin chuckled. “Gods, if I hadn’t wanted us to live through this already, I certainly would now.”

Arthur pulled back slightly, only to press his forehead against Merlin’s. He closed his eyes and brushed his nose against Merlin’s. “You better,” he murmured.

Merlin moved his fingers into Arthur’s hair. “You’re like one of those over-babied small dogs.”

Arthur glared at him. “Oh, please. If I were a dog, I would be a bloodhound.”

Merlin had the audacity to laugh at that. “Absolutely not. Definitely one of the small ones that princesses beg for and then leave for the servants to take care of. Fluffy and affectionate and inexplicably damp all the time.”

Arthur pulled back finally to convey the true extent of his displeasure. Merlin was giving him a sly grin. “I hate you,” he said.

“Actually I have it on pretty good authority that you love me,” Merlin countered.

Arthur sighed. “Clearly my taste is extremely questionable.”

Merlin smiled softly. “Can’t be worse than mine. At least you don’t have a thing for pompous, arrogant prats.” His attention shifted focus and he adjusted Arthur’s pauldron. “Be careful, alright?” he said, turning serious. “You want to make good on what you just said, don’t you? And besides, I care a hell of a lot for that armour too, so you’d better not ruin it.”

Arthur laughed, breathy and easy, then ruffled Merlin’s hair. They could do this. Together.

The field they rode out to to confront the dragon in was far too lovely to see such bloodshed, in Arthur’s opinion. The knights lay knocked out on the battlefield now, all somewhere between unconscious and dead. Only Arthur and Merlin remained standing.

“No. Stop!” Merlin yelled out, and Arthur watched as the massive creature turned to face them. He seemed to contemplate Arthur, staring at him with large, flaming golden eyes, before breathing fire straight at him. Arthur dodged it narrowly. With one last-ditch effort, he stabbed his sword forward. The dragon let out a mighty roar, and Arthur felt something smash into his side as he was slung away, fall only cushioned by the familiar wave of Merlin’s magic. Arthur was conscious, just barely, as he watched Merlin step out in front of the dragon, standing proud and courageous in the face of the gigantic beast.

Merlin lifted his head, every bit the mighty warlock Arthur had never seen him be, and the sound that came from his throat was barely human at all. “Dragorn. Non didlkai. Kari miss, epsipass imalla krat,” he said in a language Arthur felt wasn’t made to be heard by human ears. “Katostar abore ceriss. Katicur. Me ta sentende divoless. Kar… krisass.” The dragon settled back and bowed his head in front of his Lord. Arthur watched as Merlin picked up an abandoned spear.

“I am the last of my kind, Merlin,” the dragon said, as softly as something so massive could. “Whatever wrongs I have done, please do not make me responsible for the death of my noble breed.”

Arthur watched as Merlin lifted the spear high with a trembling arm, and then dropped it. “Go! Leave!” he yelled with desperation. “If you ever attack Camelot again, I will kill you!” The dragon inclined its head once again, understanding the command of his Lord for what it was. “I have shown you mercy. Now you must do the same to others,” Merlin continued.

“Young warlock, what you have shown me is what you will be,” the dragon said, cryptic and infuriating as ever. “I will not forget your clemency. I'm sure our paths will cross again.” With that last message, it opened its monstrous wings, and flew away from Camelot for good.

Merlin’s shoulders slumped with a sigh, and he looked towards Arthur. Arthur finally pushed himself upright, and then unexpectedly Merlin crashed into him, knocking him to the ground once again. Arthur wrapped his arms around him, and let Merlin bury his head in his shoulder. “You did it,” Arthur said, still somewhat in disbelief.

Merlin pushed himself up with his hands on either side of Arthur’s head. “I did it,” he said, sounding like he barely believed his own words.

Arthur leaned up to press a kiss against his lips, one of many more to come, hopefully. He laughed into the kiss and felt Merlin do the same. “We lived,” he said.

“We did,” Merlin confirmed. “We saved Camelot.”

“You did,” Arthur corrected, and saw Merlin’s cheeks redden. “It’s over.”

As one of the knights began to move around, they jumped apart, but Arthur couldn’t stop smiling at Merlin, not even as the two of them accompanied by Sir Leon, the only fellow knight who survived without injury, began to make their way back to the citadel.

Gaius came out to meet them as they crossed the drawbridge, and he wrapped Merlin in a fatherly embrace. Arthur began to shuffle around impatiently after a few moments. “Are you coming, Merlin?” he asked pointedly. 

Merlin glanced at him with a grin, and then said something to Gaius that was too quiet for Arthur to hear. The elderly physician shook his head fondly, and Merlin joined Arthur’s side, hand brushing against his.

The moment the door to Arthur’s chambers closed behind them, Merlin pressed Arthur against it and kissed him. Arthur was eager to return it. “Stay with me tonight,” he said against Merlin’s lips. “Sleep by my side.”

Merlin pulled back with a sour expression. “Gaius will worry if I don’t return for the night.”

Arthur shrugged. “So? Tell him you were busy.”

“In the middle of the night?” Merlin asked with a roll of his eyes. “No, I'll go back. And then I'll sneak back out.”

Arthur ran his fingers through Merlin’s hair. “As long as you'll be here, I don’t care how you do it.”

A knock sounded against the door, and both of them jumped back from it. Merlin adjusted his messed-up hair, and Arthur wiped his still-moist lips. Once they were sufficiently composed, Arthur cleared his throat. “Enter!” he called out.

Uther stepped inside, to Arthur’s mild horror. From the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin flinch, and make a move for the fireplace to busy himself with something. 

“I see you have returned safely,” the king said.

Arthur nodded. “Yes. The dragon has been defeated.”

Uther smiled, pleased. “Once again, we have triumphed over the evils of sorcery. This calls for a celebration.”

Arthur clenched his hands into fists. “Of course,” he said through his teeth. Anger simmered in him at his father’s hypocrisy. He looked into his father’s eyes. “But I must ask it to not be so extravagant. The repairs to the citadel and the lower town are more important than the celebration of victory.”

“Yes, yes,” Uther said dismissively. “A small feast tonight it is.”

Arthur inclined his head reluctantly. “Very well.”

Uther gave him one last pleased look and left without another word. Merlin got up from the now crackling fireplace and approached Arthur wordlessly.

Arthur sighed as the door closed behind him. “I would rather have no money spent on frivolous things with the state the lower town is in,” he said.

“That’s how I know you'll be a better king than Uther could ever be,” Merlin told him.

Arthur huffed out a laugh. “That’s treason, Merlin.” He looked towards the shut door. “Though you are right. I still believe my father’s rule is a detriment to the people.”

Merlin’s hand slid around his cheek and urged Arthur to face him. As Arthur obliged, Merlin leaned in to kiss him. “It won’t be like that forever,” he said when he pulled back. “And the kingdom you will build will be magnificent.”

Arthur touched Merlin’s hand with his own. “Thank you for having such faith in me.”

Merlin’s answering smile was blinding.