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The day Arthur Pendragon was crowned King; he received a gift by an anonymous sponsor. It was bigger and wider than Arthur was tall and when he’d pulled off the red fabric that hid the silvery liquid mirror from his view, he had the feeling that the anonymity of the sender had not been an act of humility but one of fear. Because the gift was made of magic.
A note sailed off the mirror’s edge and landed to his feet. Arthur picked it up to find beautiful handwriting waiting for him to be deciphered.
“Thee who seeks thy reflection shall see the path ahead. The future awaits to answer thy question, the truth of your heart, lays in its stead. King Arthur, for once and for future, your soul is what awaits. For better or worse, this is your fate.”
Arthur crushed the note between his hand, his teeth clenched. His future, huh? He saw his future in the mirror? Arthur stepped backwards to fully take it in, where his decisions as King would lead Camelot. But what he found was not a golden future, or a happy kingdom. The mirror reflected nothing but his throne, and another man sitting on it. Arthur’s heart was pounding, a mix of fear and sadness and betrayal filling him to the core.
Arthur felt tears gather in his eyes, unbidden, and shockingly sudden as the realisation settled in.
This had to be a lie. This could not be the truth. Not another traitor. Not HIM. In full royal attire, a silver crown upon his head, sat an older man upon his throne, wearing Arthur’s crown. He looked beautiful and majestic and powerful. But the man Arthur saw was supposed to be a servant. His manservant and best friend.
Arthur sank to his knees. Had it all been a lie? Just like his father, just like Morgana, like Morgause, like all the others, would he really betray him too? Would he kill Arthur and take his throne? “Merlin, why?” Arthur whispered, his heart breaking at the seams.
Never in a million years had Arthur thought that he would ever feel this lost again. What was worse, he hadn’t thought that the thought of losing Merlin of all people would make him feel this way.
“Rise and shine!” Sunlight flooded the room as Merlin pulled the curtains aside and woke Arthur from his slumber. Or what he would perceive as Arthur’s slumber, because the man had not slept at all. Arthur’s eyes fluttered open and blinked against the blinding light. His heart skipping a beat at Merlin’s smile as the thought occurred to him that it was all fake. Either the smile was fake, or what Arthur believed to be the reason for it. Perhaps, Merlin’s secret plans were the only reason he was so chipper in the morning, imagining how he’d kill Arthur one day. Perhaps later that same day, perhaps tomorrow. Or was Arthur on a path that would wipe that smile off his handsome face eventually? Was Arthur on a path to destroy Merlin’s happiness and that was why he would betray him some day?
“No more sleep, Sire. It’s time for breakfast.” As per usual, Merlin didn’t wait for Arthur to complain and simply dragged him violently out of bed.
For once in his life, Arthur simply let him. He was too depressed to complain. What was life worth if not these little moments? What was life worth if not for the only person who managed to keep him sane and fighting for this Kingdom? He could lose and win wars, could face assassins and being kidnapped and held at ransom, if only his best friend was there to pick him back up. If he did not have him – he couldn’t even brush his hair.
“Urgh.” Merlin heaved him on a chair. “Difficult morning, huh?” He grunted, still wearing a smile and serving him breakfast only a second later. Of course, never without stealing Arthur’s sausages.
Arthur grabbed his fork and poked his meat. “Merlin, are you happy?”
Merlin stopped chewing and shot him a confused look. “Huh? I’m fine. You’re the one whose pouting.”
“No, I mean… Are you happy where you are in life?”
Merlin paused once more, this time looking much more serious. “You mean, as your servant?” Arthur hesitated with his answer but then nodded. Merlin watched him, trying to decipher his words. “You may be a prat, but yes. I’m proud to be your servant. Until the day I die.”
He said this with such casual finality that Arthur didn’t dare disagree or question him further. He felt a little lighter after those words, but only a little. Because if Merlin was to be believed, then perhaps Merlin didn’t have a reason yet to betray Arthur. Perhaps, that was about to change. Arthur feared to find out what it would be.
There were few scenarios that Arthur could imagine Merlin betraying him in. He had been betrayed in so many ways, and yet the most logical conclusion was if Merlin were enchanted or something.
Perhaps, Arthur suspected, Merlin would meet someone who hated Arthur and support them in usurping him. But that made little sense, considering Merlin would end up on the throne, eventually. Gwaine would probably want Merlin on the throne rather than Arthur, but Gwaine also would have already tried doing that if that truly were his plan. Why wait? Arthur was already vulnerable.
Arthur had let the mirror be brought to a locked off location in the dungeons. Now, he spent nearly every day in front of it, watching, wondering and considering. The most frightening thing was that the image never seemed to change. Merlin just sat there, unmoving like a portrait. The most unsettling part was how fitting the aesthetic was, despite the betrayal that had led him there. Merlin looked good in silver and gold and the dark blue floral patterns, subtly stitched into his robes. Those were expensive and decidedly unnecessary. Camelot must be wealthy in the future Merlin would create. Arthur had to admit that the sight of it was the main reason why he kept staring at the image. Apart from that, he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps the visions would change, if he changed some of his plans.
More logical than Merlin helping someone who hated Arthur, would perhaps be helping someone who loved him. Maybe Merlin would fall in love with Arthur’s future wife and kill him to earn his place by her side?
Arthur’s heart clenched with discomfort. He didn’t want to think that his future wife would be this disloyal. Although he would understand if she were enthralled by Merlin’s beauty. Arthur tapped his thigh. The Merlin in the mirror looked no older than thirty-five. Perhaps that was it, Arthur simply wouldn’t take a wife prior to that time!
The image in the mirror did not change, despite his conviction.
Arthur buried his face in his hands. What the hell was he supposed to do?
Arthur tapped against the armrest of his throne. He was alone inside. The petitioners had gone about ten minutes ago, and Arthur was waiting for Sir Leon’s report to come in. The older knight had taken his time, but when he returned, he looked grim.
He bowed to his King before he stepped closer. “My lord, I apologize to inform his lordship that I could not keep Merlin in my line of sight as you asked. He is simply too busy. When Gaius is not sending him somewhere distributing medicine, he is out in the woods, or in the stalls with the horses, or somewhere else entirely. It is impossible to keep track of his whereabouts.”
Arthur paled. “That can’t be. Merlin is the laziest manservant I’ve ever had.”
“Well, perhaps you were too quick to judge, my lord.” Sir Leon grinned, then his expression fell. “I apologize; it is not my place to say such a thing. I simply meant to say -”
“No, no. It’s fine.” Arthur said with growing concern. “He disappears, you say?” His stomach churned, terrified of what this meant.
“I’m afraid so, my Lord. May I ask why you wish to know about his whereabouts, Sire?”
“That is my concern and mine only, Sir Leon. Thank you for your report. You are dismissed.”
“Thank you, your majesty.” Sir Leon bowed again, his helmet under his arm and his sword glistening in the sunlight. Then he marched past the guards and into the hallway.
Arthur let out a deep, theatrical sigh. This was not good.
Arthur was the best tracker among his knights. There was not a single foe he had not managed to find via their trails because they always, always left something behind to be found.
Then why in all the five Kingdoms could he not find his stupid, loud, boisterous manservant?
Arthur was hacking through the woods with his sword, exactly where Gaius had said Merlin would be, but there was not a single broken branch, not a piece of clothing and no scent for his dogs to track. Nothing, absolutely nothing to follow.
Arthur had been searching for him restlessly for over an hour before he broke down to his knees. Either Gaius had lied to him, or Merlin was actually a skilled assassin himself! Perhaps he was overreacting, but the image of Merlin on his throne simply wouldn’t leave him. Perhaps it wasn’t that exaggerated after all. If Merlin could get this far without being found, then perhaps he was already out there, planning Arthur’s demise.
“A servant, eh?”
Arthur’s eyes shot up. Not too far from him was a small clearing, where he could hear some men talking loudly to someone they had in their grasp. Arthur’s mind instantly shot to Merlin. Oh no. Not in a million years had Arthur considered that Merlin could actually be in danger! Although he did feel sickening relief that at least Merlin didn’t seem to be gone or something.
And then, violent nausea hit him at the idea that MERLIN WAS IN DANGER!
Before Arthur could stop himself, he’d jumped to his feet and ran straight towards what were likely a group of bandits.
“It’s really smart, if you think about it.” An unfamiliar voice had spoken up, causing Arthur to pause just at the edge of the clearing. That was not Merlin’s voice, but –
“The servants aren’t questioned as often as you would expect. Disguising yourself as a servant, and then as the manservant of the King –“
Arthur’s heart sank as no other than Merlin himself answered by spitting at their feet. He was tied up by thick ropes that forced him to his knees. The bandits holding him were wearing stolen knight outfits, gathered on their raids, while Merlin looked as casually unfashionable as usual. He’d been put to his knees, but Arthur couldn’t move to save him. What did they mean, disguise?
“If you think I will help you, you are dead wrong.” Merlin said, voice full of vitriol and venom.
“Oh come on.” One of the men laughed in disbelief. “You just returned from a chat with the druids. Do you seriously want us to believe that the King has send you there?”
Arthur felt his heart stop. No. No, he had NOT sent Merlin to a druid camp. Why would he? Sure, he was trying to negotiate peace with them, but the druids were still magic users and dangerous to meet with alone. Unless you were –
“And I’m supposed to believe that you guys are friends with the druids?” Merlin raised a mocking brow. “I think we all know that that’s ridiculous.”
“Silence!” One of the bandits barked at him. He was taller than the others, more muscled and viscous looking. He’d probably killed over a dozen men. Arthur dreaded to think what they would do to Merlin. But then again, there were five of them and Merlin was tied up and likely a spy who had betrayed Arthur. Arthur still couldn’t move, could only clutch at his sword, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“Perhaps we should keep you for ransom, shouldn’t we?” The bandit mused. “Sell you back to your King and then sent him word of your treachery.”
Merlin smirked and then said the most outrageous thing Arthur had ever heard in his entire life: “Arthur wouldn’t even notice I’m gone.”
Never before had Arthur been this wounded in his pride. How. Dare. He. Arthur was about to break into the clearing despite himself, was about to shout at Merlin for spreading such lies, when Merlin’s eyes suddenly flashed pure gold.
In an instant, the bandits were thrown back, two of them hitting trees and falling to the ground, never to get back up again. Merlin stood, his eyes flaring once more as he loosened his ties with a wave of magic. Before Arthur could take a breath, he’d stepped over to one of the bandits, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up enough to rival Percival in display of strength. “Besides.” Merlin said, loud enough to make Arthur’s ears ring. “I can take care of myself.”
Merlin had magic.
Arthur had broken down after Merlin was gone from the clearing. He’d dragged himself back to the castle and locked himself inside with the mirror, only to cry in front of its reflection. King Merlin was smiling down at him, mocking him for his trust and his morals, all of which Merlin had betrayed in a single instance.
Conspiring with druids was one thing. Killing bandits was a thing beyond his imagination, but Merlin having magic was incomprehensible.
Arthur crumbled on the ground, sobbing and crying like he’d witnessed death and destruction of a whole Kingdom. There was no doubt about it anymore. Merlin was a traitor. He was going to take over the throne.
And Arthur had nothing left to live for.
Dark circles deepened Arthur’s sorrow when he returned to his rooms for dinner. Merlin was already there, arranging the plates for Arthur like he cared at all.
Seeing him like this, boisterous and chipper as he was every day, brought burning tears to Arthur’s eyes. He sniffled, trying to hide his feelings but found it an impossible endeavour.
Merlin turned around to greet him, only for his smile to fall.
Arthur couldn’t even have that, could he? The brightness of Merlin’s smile was usually a balm to any wound inflicted on the King. And now? All gone. Dirtied by the blood from the cracks in Arthur’s heart.
“Arthur? Are you alright? Did something happen?” Merlin was at him in a second, checking him for wounds or concussions. He was such a mother hen sometimes. His gentle fingers traced Arthur’s sleepless face, meeting his eyes head on and Arthur found himself powerless. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “Hey, Arthur, talk to me!”
“You can just kill me now.” Arthur whispered to him.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” Merlin blinked, his hand twitching back when he realised that Arthur was serious. “Arthur, what’s wrong. Do you have a fever?” He held the back of his hand against Arthur’s forehead, only to bite his lip. “No, you feel normal. Arthur, what happened.”
“You came to Camelot to kill me, didn’t you?” Arthur’s voice broke. “I saw you fight those bandits in the forest with magic.”
Merlin’s hands twitched and the man stepped back in surprise. “You were there?”
“Yes.” Arthur hated that the loss of that casual touch brought him to tears. “I’ve been betrayed so many times, Merlin. But you too? Am I that bad of a King? If you want my throne, just take it already. Spare me the misery of witnessing Camelot’s fall. Just take my life and do as you wish.”
Merlin blinked at him like Arthur had gone insane.
“I – Arthur –“ He seemed confused, as if he had a speech prepared but now didn’t know what to say. He stepped back into Arthur’s personal space. “You’re my friend. I would never betray you.”
“You already used magic, Merlin.”
“I was born with it.” It was less than a whisper, just a hunch of a breath. Merlin searched his face for more information, his hands back against Arthur’s face and the King hated himself with how relieving that touch felt despite it all. Merlin seemed to sense it, because he was too close for someone who was scared of Arthur. “I use it for you, Arthur. ONLY for you.”
Arthur’s brow twitched. “You were seen conspiring with druids.”
“Yes! To negotiate peace for you!”
“I didn’t ask you to!”
“You don’t HAVE to!” Merlin said in utter disbelief. “What gave you the idea that I wanted you dead?”
Arthur opened his mouth and closed it. “You don’t?” This was painful. Utter misery stretched and infected with hope.
“Of course not!” Merlin nearly laughed. “Why would I – Wait.” Something slowly dawned on him. “You would have let me kill you?” His voice turned high, incredulous and mortified. “You would have given me your throne? Are you insane?”
Flushing, Arthur averted his eyes. “I’d rather die than lose you,” he muttered, embarrassed by his own words. “What’s worth being King, if there is no one left to care about?”
When he looked up, he found Merlin’s face flushed to the tips of his ears. After that, things escalated quickly.
He didn’t have more than a second before Merlin’s lips suddenly crashed against his own. Arthur stumbled backwards, but Merlin simply followed him until Arthur’s back hit a wall and he gasped into the kiss. Merlin didn’t waste a single second before he simply devoured Arthur’s entire soul with his lips and his tongue.
Arthur lost the ability to think. Involuntarily, yet entirely willing, his arms draped around Merlin’s neck, kissing him back like his life depended on it. Perhaps, in a way, it did.
What happened after that was a blur of sounds, of rustling clothes, of hot skin brushing against hot skin, colours exploding behind his eyes and a feeling of deep sated belonging that Arthur had never felt before. Arthur clung to it, to Merlin, hoping that this meant he would be allowed to stay with him. At least for a while. It would make his death an even bitterer end, if Merlin decided to sweeten his last days like this, but at least he would die with the conviction, that his life had been worth something.
“So, this is the mirror?” Merlin said skeptically, looking straight at the incriminating gift. His brow raised. “I don’t know.” He stepped back, tried to gain another angle. “I only see you on the throne.”
Arthur bit his lip, fumbling with his hands.
The realisation that he was in love with Merlin had come unbidden last night. Loud and obvious and terrifying. They’d laid next to each other, both naked and out of breath, while the euphoria of their activities died down and Arthur had realised that THIS was what he had always wanted. Merlin right beside him, painting little circles into his skin and smiling at him like he was the world, assuring him again and again that he was not there to betray him. That he wanted nothing more than Arthur’s happiness.
In a split second, Arthur had decided to trust Merlin with the mirror.
It had been strange, because the realisation itself hadn’t really been a surprise. The surprising thing had been that it had taken him so long to notice.
“I still see you.” Arthur said. It was only fair to show Merlin his future too. Perhaps, Merlin would finally understand why Arthur was so terrified, then. Maybe, if he showed him, they could change fate together.
Merlin nodded, frowning as he kept stepping from one side to the other. “And what did you say the instructions say?”
“The mirror shows my fate.” Arthur said, head hanging low. “And apparently, it’s you on the throne of Camelot.
“Ah.” Merlin said, thinking for a second. And then, suddenly, his eyes widened, his face burning aflame. His mouth dropped open. “Oh my god.” He clapped a hand over his mouth.
Arthur blinked sadly. “What? What did you see?” Had he finally figured it out? Did he know when Arthur’s final days were counted?
Merlin turned around and punched Arthur in the chest.
Arthur winced, startled by Merlin’s strength as he rubbed the spot. “What the hell was that for?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? That mirror isn’t showing me betraying you, you moron. We’re married!” He pointed at their future. Arthur’s eyes fell to King Merlin’s hand, and found a ring sitting where a wedding band would be. It was his mother’s ring. The engagement ring Arthur was supposed to gift his future wife.
Arthur opened his mouth, but when he saw Merlin’s eyes twinkling and his mouth twitching into a disbelieving smile, he slowly registered Merlin’s words. Hot, liquid warmth flooded his entire system. “Huh?” he squeaked.
Merlin broke into laughter, watching Arthur’s fear shatter into golden, gleaming hope. “We’re getting married?”
“We’re getting married!” Merlin laughed and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips.
Oh…
Now that was a future to look forward to.