Chapter Text
Arthur didn’t know when it had started, that warm feeling in his sternum. A comforting heat that would spread to his neck and ears if he wasn’t careful. The fondness he felt for his manservant of all people.
All his life he had been faced with fear. It was a natural part of his upbringing, his status. He saw it every day, in his father’s face when the borders were being attacked. He saw it in the servants whenever they dared to make a sound. He saw it in the townspeople, his people, fear of the king’s wrath and what he might do if someone so much as tripped his special prince. He saw it in the knights, careful not to strike too hard or prod the wrong part of the armor. He felt like he had been walking on eggshells his whole life, people so careful not to anger him. Not to hurt him. Not to touch him. Not to even speak to him. The tirade of “Yes sir”s and “right away sir”s followed him everywhere. He was only ever told “no” by one person, his father. And that became a whole debacle in itself because when Arthur was in his father’s throne room, he was the one who was scared.
Arthur had lived his life on a pillar, equal to no one, subordinate to only his father. It was dull. It was exhausting. And most importantly, it was lonely.
Then came along this wonder of a boy, someone who was not afraid to speak their mind, who stood up against bullies. He had caught Arthur’s attention immediately. At first, a sensation of annoyance, followed swiftly by curiosity and a hint, of respect. Merlin, he learned was the boy’s name, got himself into more trouble on his first day in Camelot than most peasants see in their whole life. And it thrilled Arthur.
Somehow, the boy had managed to save his life, Merlin, a peasant boy, second day in Camelot, had just saved the crown prince's life. Arthur registered his father making a fuss about the whole ordeal but it washed over him like rain echoing off Camelot's high stone walls. He could not stop staring. Yes, Merlin could have saved him because he is the Prince, however he had made it abundantly clear the day before he did not care about status and that after Arthurs teasing, thought him to be somewhat of a prat. So why then, would Merlin have saved him? Looking at Merlin’s disgusted face at the prospect of being Arthur’s manservant, that could not possibly be the reason. It was curious, and intrigued Arthur. Perhaps that day was when the flower of warmth had started to grow.
~~
Years had gone past and every day without fail Merlin showed up bright and early, full of witty remarks, laden with warm food, and a smile. Whether that smile was forced, playfull, or true and genuine, all depended on Arthur. It was something that he had been trying to pick apart and reason for years but it had always been somewhat of a mystery. Many times when Merlin would come into the room, silent, face falling when he thought Arthur could not see, Arthur would wrack his brain thinking of something, anything that he had done the day before to warrant such a mood. 9 times out of 10 he would remember an argument, a joke pushed too far to the point of injury, words too sharp. He would then do small things to make up for it, taking a new set of clothes to Gaius to stash in Merlin’s rooms, motioning for Merlin to sit and eat breakfast with him, taking the day off to go riding in the woods. It always seemed to lift his spirits somewhat, and while Arthur was terrible about apologies, he felt himself trying to win Merlin’s forgiveness more than he would even his own father. Out of the 10, the 1 time Merlin was forcing his smiles, and Arthur could not recall any misstep of his own, he would become a distraction. Taking Merlin with him everywhere, trading banter, filling the warm summer air with laughing and the cool nights with hushed whispers and gossip.
Arthur had never had a friend before, the stable boys and servant children always being too skittish and no other nobles at the court having any children of the same age. He had grown up alone in a world of adults, books, maps, and stone walls. But a friend, he had never had one before. And that's what Merlin was, a friend. A companion.
An equal .
He never pinpointed a specific time where Arthur had realized this. Maybe it had been true since they met, or maybe it had only begun to be relevant more recently, but the truth of the matter was, Merlin was Arthur’s friend.
And at some point Arthur’s feelings of fond friendship, had started to blossom into something more.
~~
Arthur knew he would one day have to marry for a treaty or alliance with a distant kingdom. He would unify the lands, strengthening Camelot. He knew he would never be able to marry for love. It did not stop him from hoping. Reading had taken up a large part of his adolescence and between the many dusty volumes of battle tactics and strategy, he had devoured the limited section of fairy tales and romance. He would never admit it to Merlin or he would never hear the end of it, but he had loved those books. He had one scroll containing a legend about a dragon prince who had run away with a river spirit stuffed in a box under his bed. He found the tale deeply romantic. It had been his favorite legend growing up and he had taken it from the library the day he had seen his first execution.
Outwardly, he let others believe he had the same beliefs about magic that his father had. It raised fewer questions, and led to less arguments between them. Secretly, Arthur found the idea fascinating. The idea that nature had a separate energy, a religion of sorts, that allowed people to channel intention had always been an idea that fascinated Arthur. There had been many times in his teenage years when he had sat on a stool in Gaius’s chambers and watched him make tonics. Arthur would badger him with hundreds of questions, and he would only get few, if any, answers. But Gaius was patient, and the rooms were out of the way of the bustle of the castle. Those had been some of his favorite afternoons.
~~
The grief of the King’s passing washed over Camelot in a great title wave. Arthur had been holed up in his rooms for the past several days. He needed to schedule a ceremony declaring him now the rightful king of the land, he needed to meet with the Council of Elders to go over all the lands and laws to see if they needed changes, he needed to elect new elders at some point, and then there were the Knights. He had barely slept, seldom ate, he didn’t even have much time to grieve for god's sake. He felt himself becoming more short tempered and bitter by the minute. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Merlin for more than a fleeting glance as he rushed to another chore. He rubbed a hand at his temple, a headache forming between his eyes. There was a familiar burning at the back of his eyes and he scrubbed a hand across them, refusing to let the frustrated tear fall.
He had fallen asleep at his desk. Arms folded under his head, papers strewn over the large wooden table. He first registered there was a soft blanket draped over his shoulders, one of the good rabbit fur ones from his bed. Then he realized the room itself was warmer than before. A small fire burbled happily in the fireplace. Sitting up somewhat embarrassed, he glanced blearily around the room. He spotted Merlin then, in the corner, neatly folding his clothes by the bed. He smiled. Warmth, not attributed to the fur or fire, filled his chest and rose to his ears. Without fail, Merlin had stayed, and right now just having his presence near was already doing wonders for his mood. It felt as if the cloud that had been so present the past couple days had lifted, allowing sunlight to stream in. Voice roughened by sleep, he called out.
“Merlin,”
Merlin startled and straightened. He smiled, one of his bright genuine smiles that never failed to draw one out of Arthur as well.
“Merlin,” he tried again, softer. “Thank you.”
~~
From then on Merlin shadowed the new King much closer then he had shadowed Arthur before. Protecting him . A small voice at the back of Arthur’s mind said fondly. He tagged along to every meeting, every hunt, every training session. When Arthur sat going over papers at his desk, Merlin would be in the room doing some other chore. While some people would be put off by the constant presence, Arthur thrived. He always knew where to find Merlin in a crowded room, he sought reassurance in his eyes at council meetings, and Merlin was always next to him on a hunt. The few moments where it demanded they function alone, Arthur felt himself seeking out his presence almost subconsciously. Disappointed when there was no one there.
~~
Now that his father had passed, Arthur had set about slowly dismantling all the harsh and unjust laws Uthur had set in his time. The biggest one of course, being magic. He worked on this project secretly, he had not even told the council yet of his plans to legalize magic. He had not even told Merlin. There was still a lot of stigma around the topic and Uther still had many supporters in court. Arthur trusted Merlin with his life, but the man had been cadgy and odd around the topic of magic for years and while Merlin probably thought he hid the flinches well whenever Uther had spat out opinions on magic users, Arthur had seen. The real question was which side Merlin was on, while Arthur didn’t think Merlin would be against magic, he was from an outlying village in Cenred's kingdom. Who knows what he had witnessed before coming to seek refuge in Camelot. It was one topic they never discussed, and as much as Arthur wanted to talk about his curiosity with his only friend, avoiding the topic was a small price to pay to keep what they had.
Arthur figured it would make more sense to first deal with impending war on Camelot and wait until a hallowed time. The few facts he had extracted over the years from Gaius had been about how important the Hallowed times were to the Druids and Practitioners of the Old Religion. He had always favored the Summer Solstice. The Equinoxes' fell during the rainy season and the harvest, and while his own birthday was the Winter Solstice, the day had always felt tainted with his mother’s death. In his mind this was the plan. If they made it out of this battle, in the next 9 months they would have a celebration. He would announce his intent to lift the ban, and the Camelot he envisioned could finally emerge from his father’s cruel shadow.
~~
It had all gone wrong. He should have known something was off with Merlin, he had been standoffish and uncharacteristically somber. The battle had seemed all but won, Merlin's half choked cryptic warning about traitors had seemed far-fetched and Arthur had paid it no mind. He knew his men, they were loyal to the end. He had been wrong. He had forgotten about Modred. He had let his guard down. Stupid. As he felt the burning pain of the sword stab through his abdomen, his vision whited out with pain. A scream was lodged in his throat but it came out more like a croak. The last thing that crossed his mind before he passed out was regret. Regret he would never tell Merlin his plan, his, …appreciation…..his ... .love.
Stupid.
~~
He slowly came to. A tingly warmth spread through his abdomen, akin to the numbness of a limb losing feeling. It was almost itchy and he went to scratch but his arms felt too heavy to lift. He was propped up on a moss covered rock, damp undergrowth creating a soft seat. He blinked into full consciousness and looked around in confusion. They were a short distance away from a rocky shore. They were just inside the tree line, using the large rocks and trees to break the harshness of the wind. Merlin sat stroking a small fire. He sat opposite Arthur, knees hugged to his chest. He looked at Arthur wearily, as if he were a dog that might bite an outstretched hand. Arthur sat up further.
“Merlin, what- where are we-”
He gasped as a twinge of pain shot through his side. His hand automatically pressed to his stomach to relieve the pressure. He did a double take when he realized that his side, where he had been sure he had been stabbed, was clean. His chainmail shirt was gone and he was left in just his loose undershirt and thick leather riding pants. He hurriedly hiked up his tunic and ran a hand over his smooth stomach. Baffled, he ran a finger over the singular raised scar. Thin, the width of a blade.
“What- I was stabbed- I was sure I was- How long have I been out?” That is when he finally looked back up at Merlin. Merlin, who was shaking.
“Woah! Woah, hey, are you alright?”
Arthur shuffled over to Merlin’s side of the circle, crouched on his knees, scanning for any injuries.
“Are you hurt? Let me see,”
Arthur reached out to put a hand on Merlin’s knee but before he even got close Merlin flinched, hard. Arthur immediately put both hands up and sat back on his heels.
“Woah, hey it's ok, just me. Talk to me, what happened? I was pretty sure I was dead back there.”
He attempted to lighten the mood. It always worked better when Merlin did it.
Merlin looked at him, tears collecting at the tip of his chin.
He took several long breaths before opening his mouth. “You have to know I only ever did it for you Arthur, you have to know.”
Arthur nodded along, not really sure what he meant. “Yeah, now tell me, what happened?”
“You- You were dying, I didn’t, I had to get you here. The prophecy, everything, I thought I stopped it but I was wrong, there's no stopping fate it had to happen.”
Arthur was barely following, what did he mean by prophecy?
“I brought you here, the healing waters, it helped, but I had to go the rest of the way, the wound wouldn't close-” He scrubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands.
“You…the rest of the way…?”
Merlin looked at him. His breathing was speeding up, his voice even more wobbly than before.
“I'm a sorcerer.” It was as if the entire forest had fallen silent in that moment. “I have magic.” His voice broke and he trembled.
Merlin was his oldest friend. His closest companion. Arthur would go as far to say that yeah, he was in love with him. Merlin was his soul constant for the past 5 years of his life. The only one he would call his equal. He never stood down from a challenge. From day one he had stood in front of Arthur full of defiance. He had never once been scared of Arthur because of his status or his position like so many others were.
Now, Merlin sat there, trembling, watching Arthur with eyes full of fear.