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It was a silent ride towards Ealdor, the four companions dwelling on the new problem that had recently arisen.
Most silent of all was Merlin, noted Arthur. He was most likely concerned for his mother and his old neighbors.
Arthur was glad he didn’t let Merlin come here alone; it would’ve been too hard for an oaf like him. His heart is too soft.
Behind them rode Guinevere and Morgana, because the path had narrowed to only allow two horses to ride abreast of each other.
The girls were determined, Arthur would grant them that, but he was worried for their safety. He couldn’t imagine what Uther would do to him should Morgana lose her life here.
Well, he could imagine, he just chose not to at the moment. A good king does not dwell on uncertainties he does not know will come to pass.
But he could prepare himself for them regardless.
“We’re almost there,” Merlin said from his side, breaking the silence that had been present for the majority of the past few hours.
“How long till we arrive?” Arthur questioned, picking up the pace just a bit. He was anxious to arrive already.
“It should be only a short way away, no more than ten minutes, sire,” Merlin replied, also quickening his pace to match Arthur’s.
“Good” Arthur responded shortly, and on they went.
As they drew closer, they began hearing sounds of a battle, clashes or swords and screams of townspeople.
“Oh no,” Morgana breathed behind Arthur, and urged her horse off the path and around Arthur’s, beginning to sprint towards the source of the commotion.
Not to be beaten, and just as worried for the peoples’ safety, Arthur also broke into a full sprint, outpacing Morgana and being the first to reach Ealdor.
Leaping into the battle, Arthur began slashing and cutting through any enemies he found. He could vaguely hear Merlin, Morgana, and Guinevere also joining the fray, but he kept his focus on the foes in front of him.
Their enemies, surprised by the new opponents that were fighting well, retreated into the woods in order to preserve their numbers and regroup.
Arthur took this chance to start putting the plan he had been formulating into action.
“Still up to your old magic trick, eh?” He hears a voice say, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Merlin standing next to a young man.
For a moment it looks like Merlin is about to fight him, but then his face breaks into that goofy grin.
“Will!” Merlin exclaims, embracing said man in a fierce hug. Arthur feels a hint of annoyance at that. Why is Merlin so friendly with him?
“Didn’t know you’d come back,” The man, Will, says as he breaks his hug. “Still serving that prick they call a prince?”
“Will, he’s not that bad, and no I’m -”
“Merlin, come here, I need to gather the townspeople” Arthur takes this moment to interrupt Merlin. He didn’t want to hear whatever the manservant had to say about him, good or bad. It made him too nervous.
Merlin looks back, says something along the lines of “I’ll be a minute,” but Arthur needs him now.
That seems to displease the man named Will, and Arthur takes some satisfaction in the twisting on his face as Merlin comes to stand right behind him.
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The day has stretched on for too long. The people are not ready to fight, even just basic exercises, not even with armour, and these people are done! His knights could do this all day with real swords. Arthur can’t even stand to be near the training ground anymore.
As he walks away, frustrated with their lack of progress, Arthur finds himself subconsciously searching for Merlin.
He finds him with Will.
It sours Arthur’s mood even more, and he leans against the wall to listen to what’s so important to his manservant.
“Listen, Will, just give him a chance, he knows what he’s doing?” Merlin is saying.
“Does he?! Really? Because all I see is an arrogant prince who thinks he can use us as his personal army. He knows nothing about our lives.” Will is shouting back.
“Arthur is a good person; he is my friend!” Merlin retorts, his voice also rising.
“No, he isn’t! You aren’t anything to him! Does he even know about you? About your secrets?”
Merlin falls silent at that.
It's enough of an answer for both Arthur and Will. Arthur wonders silently what secrets Merlin could possibly be keeping from him; he’s a terrible liar, after all.
“Is this about us, or me?” Merlin finally asks.
“Us, you, both…does it matter?” Will asks, frustratedly pacing in front of an armour stand covered by a mail shirt.
“It matters because if you are against him because of what happened between us-” Merlin starts.
“You left us!” Will interrupts him. “You left me. I thought you loved me.”
Arthur feels his blood freeze. What was happening right now? Both Merlin and Will were guys, why was love a part of this?
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Merlin spoke softly, “And I did love you. But it-it wasn’t right for me. I don’t love you how you deserve, how you love me, and I couldn’t lead you on like that forever.”
Will’s voice is silent now, snuffed out by the confession.
“Well, I hope it was worth it,” Will finally bites out before storming from the hut.
Arthur hears Merlin slump down into a chair and slowly makes his way towards Merlin's house where they’re staying.
He needs to process this.
Merlin and Will were in love. Merlin likes men. Merlin likes men. Will was one of those men. Does Will still love Merlin? And why does that bother Arthur so much?
Is this even allowed? Uther would kill him if he courted a man. Not that he would. Would he?
Arthur couldn’t even imagine being so intimate with anyone, let alone a man. What would even happen between them? Would they joke and tease each other? Risk their lives for each other? Would he look for them in his moment of weakness, seek out their presence without…even…meaning to.
Oh fuck…
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Standing next to Will’s pyre, Arthur thinks back on his time in Ealdor. His mind drifts to Merlin, as it often does, and his realization.
He replays the moment Will died, confessing his sorcery with his dying breaths. Merlin obviously knew about it, if they had courted before. Why would Merlin never tell him? Was it out of love? Loyalty?
Arthur pictures the look that was on Merlin’s face as he clutched Will’s hand. There was longing there, pain that told of something far deeper. There was love there, love for a friend, and quite possibly a former lover.
There was no way to tell now.
Arthur looks over at Merlin, who is standing with his mother. His face is wet with tears, but below that is a hardened mask of grief.
His mother leans over and whispers, “I’m sorry my love, I know how close you were.”
Arthur chooses to leave at this moment.
He does not deserve to share this with Merlin; does not deserve to comfort the person he likes while his former love lay burning before them.
He is not ready, and neither is Merlin.
But…maybe one day they would be able to be honest with one another, even if that day is far, far in the future.
