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The dirt road stretched ahead like a promise of relief — or at least, that was what Leon hoped. He had already lost count of how many times Merlin had sighed in the last ten minutes. And considering he was counting, that said a lot about the sorcerer's state.
Merlin rode beside him, his body hunched over his horse's neck, his eyes glazed over the horizon. His face was a mask of anguish that would make any Greek tragedy actor die of envy.
"So," Leon began, his voice carefully neutral, "we've been gone for two days. How's your sanity holding up, Merlin?"
Merlin turned his head slowly, as if each movement required superhuman effort.
"Complicated," he replied, his voice dragging. "Because nothing is so bad that my mind can't make it worse. Sometimes I unalign my chakras with the things I even think about."
Leon felt a vein pulse in his forehead. He already knew this conversation. Knew every curve, every detour, every dead end. He had been through it on the previous trip, and the one before that, and the one before that.
"I see," Leon said, trying to sound encouraging.
"Sometimes," Merlin continued, as if Leon hadn't spoken, "no one needs to knock me down, because I knock myself down with the things I put in my own head! Because madness is like a seed — you plant one here, another there, and before you know it, it germinates and turns into an apple tree of insanity in your mind!"
Leon closed his eyes for a moment. He could hear the gods laughing at him — he was sure he had done something wrong in a past life and was now paying for his sins.
"Oh, heavens," Leon murmured.
"And you know what the worst part is?" Merlin continued, now gesturing with one hand, which was dangerous considering he was still mounted. "Sometimes I tell myself it's just a matter of thinking about one problem at a time to sort out my life. But then I think for five minutes and suddenly the problem is ten times worse! I put so many problems into my problems that I'm just one day away from discovering what only the mad know!"
Leon opened his mouth to respond, but Merlin didn't give him time.
"Do you know what the mad know, Leon? They know that the only way to deal with insanity is to embrace it. And I'm about to embrace insanity so hard it's going to ask for space!"
"Merlin," Leon tried, "are you okay?"
Merlin stopped. His eyes filled with tears in the blink of an eye.
"No!" he exclaimed, his voice faltering. "I want my king back!"
And then, without any warning, Merlin collapsed. He fell against his horse's neck, his shoulders shaking with loud, dramatic sobs that echoed down the road.
Leon felt panic rise. He looked back, seeking support, but he was completely alone — he would lament forever his terrible decision to go with Merlin, thinking dealing with the king would be worse.
"Please, my friend," Leon said, his voice soft, "take a deep breath. We've only been gone two days. We haven't even reached our destination..."
"But my king is home alone!" Merlin sobbed, his voice muffled against the horse's mane. "What kind of horrible person am I to leave my pregnant love alone?"
Leon sighed. He knew this conversation was going to end like this. Knew Merlin was going to break down, knew he was going to cry, knew he was going to lament the separation as if it were a Shakespearean tragedy.
What he didn't know was that, hundreds of miles away, Arthur Pendragon was going through exactly the same drama.
In Camelot, the council was in session.
Or rather, it was trying to be in session.
Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, Unifier of Albion, the man who had brought magic back to the long-forbidden lands, sat on his throne with an expression that was a perfect mixture of boredom, irritation, and deep sadness.
The problem was that, every five minutes, he let out a sigh so dramatic that the torches in the hall trembled.
"My king," began Percival, who, along with Gwaine and Elyan, had stayed in Camelot to "take care" of the king alongside Gwen and Gaius, "are you alright?"
Arthur looked up slowly, as if the question required superhuman effort.
"I'm fine," he replied, his voice dragging.
"You've sighed for the fifteenth time in the last twenty minutes, princess," Gwaine observed carefully, not wanting to become a target of the other man's strong emotions.
Arthur frowned. "Don't you have anything better to do than stand there counting how many times I've sighed?"
"Well." Elyan began gently, "it's hard not to notice."
"Why?"
"Because it's impressive, sire."
Arthur opened his mouth to respond to his friend, but the words died in his throat. Instead, he let out another sigh — the sixteenth.
Gwen, who was sitting beside Arthur on his throne, tried to intervene. "My king, Merlin will be back soon."
"I know."
"He only went to help the druids."
"I know."
"He'll be back before you know it."
"I know." Arthur paused. "But do you know what I don't know?"
Gwen ventured. "What?"
"How I'm going to survive until then." Arthur threw his head back dramatically, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Ever since he left, everything has gone wrong, Gwen! George is trying, but the way he arranges my pillows is wrong, the way he prepares my charcoal with vinegar is wrong! Even the way he massages my feet is wrong! I hate that he does everything wrong while I know it's not his fault! This is so horrible!"
Percival leaned forward, with an expression of genuine curiosity. "Are you missing Merlin... because of the pillows and charcoal?"
"It's not about the pillows or charcoal!" Arthur exclaimed, starting to feel irritated. "It's about him! I miss him! And he's far away, and I'm pregnant, and my back hurts, and my feet are swollen, and I can't sleep, and he's not here to massage my feet, and I want him back! What the hell, damn that wretched idiot for getting me pregnant and leaving me behind!"
Gwen and the knights exchanged exhausted looks as they watched their king crying to Percival, who desperately tried to calm him down.
"My king," Gwen said, her voice soft, "would you like me to call Gaius?"
Arthur shook his head, his eyes already teary. "I don't want Gaius! I want Merlin!"
"But he's coming back."
"I know." Arthur paused, his tears drying to make room for a pout. "But why does it take so long?"
Gwaine opened his mouth to respond, but Arthur didn't give him time.
"He could have used magic! Could have flown! Could have teleported! Ridden Kilgarrah! But no, he had to go on horseback, because 'it's more proper' and 'I don't want to draw attention' and 'the druids will be scared if I appear out of nowhere'! Idiot! What's the point of being the most powerful sorcerer in the world if he doesn't use his power for anything useful!?"
"My king..."
"And now I'm here, alone, nauseous, with back pain, and he's out there having fun with the druids while I'm stuck here with 4 babies growing inside me and this belly that looks bigger than a troll's!"
Gwen felt her heart tighten seeing how distressed the king truly was despite hiding it behind angry shouts and curses. "My king, would you like a hug?"
Arthur looked at her with wide eyes, filling with tears again. "Yes."
Gwen stood and walked to the throne beside him, opening her arms. Arthur stood — with some difficulty, his enormous belly making movement hard — and threw himself into his great friend's arms.
"It's going to be okay," Gwen murmured, running her hand through the blond hair. "He's coming back. And you're going to be fine."
Arthur sobbed softly, the sound muffled against Gwen's shoulder.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Do you think he misses me too?"
"Of course."
"Do you think he's thinking about me right now?"
"I'm sure."
Arthur was silent for a moment, and Gwen felt the weight of his head against her shoulder.
"Gwen?"
"Hmm?"
"What if that idiot gets hurt?"
Gwen laughed — a low, genuine laugh. "My king, there's no one stronger than Merlin."
Arthur lifted his head, his eyes still wet. "But what if he trips on a rock and falls and hits his head?"
"I'm sure Leon will make sure Merlin doesn't trip anywhere, Arthur."
Arthur smiled — a trembling smile, but genuine.
"Right, thank you, Gwen. It's always good to have you by my side."
"The pleasure is mine, my king."
Back on the road, Merlin had finally stopped crying. Leon, who was still guiding his friend's horse, felt relief flood his body.
"Better?" Leon asked.
Merlin sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "A little."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"If I talk, I'll cry again."
"Then don't talk."
"But if I don't talk, I'll think, and if I think, I'll cry."
Leon closed his eyes for a moment.
"So what do you want to do?"
Merlin was silent for a moment.
"I want to go back to Camelot," he said, his voice small.
"I know."
"I want to see my king."
"I know."
"I want to hug my king."
"I know."
"I want to smell my king."
Leon opened his eyes.
"...What?"
Merlin sniffled, heartbroken. "He smells so good..."
Leon didn't respond. He had no words.
"Merlin," he said finally.
"What?"
"You're pathetic."
Merlin stared at him for a moment, then sniffled and started crying again.
"I know!"
"You're crying over a man."
"I know."
"A man who's only two days away."
"I know."
"And you're the most powerful sorcerer who ever lived!"
"I know."
Leon sighed. "You're impossible."
"I know." Merlin paused. "Do you think Arthur misses me too?"
Leon opened his mouth to mock this absurd question, but the words died in his throat, for he knew that if he provoked Merlin now, he would have to listen to his complaints all over again.
"Yes," Leon said, his voice softer. "I'm sure he misses you just as much as you miss him, my friend."
Merlin smiled — a small smile, but genuine.
"Thank you, Leon."
"You're welcome, Merlin."
In Camelot, Arthur was now lying in bed, with Gwen beside him trying to distract her friend from all his longing.
"Gwen?" he murmured, his voice still hoarse.
"Hmm?"
"Do you think Merlin is okay?"
Gwen ran her hand through the blond hair. "I'm sure he is, my king."
"Do you think he's anxious to come home?"
"I'm sure."
"Do you think he's counting the days until he returns?"
Gwen laughed softly — her friends' love was so silly, but also adorable.
"I'm sure."
Arthur paused.
"Gwen?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think I'd be selfish if I created a law that forbids Merlin from leaving my side forever?"
Gwen thought for a moment.
"A little," she replied. "But I believe it would make Merlin very happy too."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Arthur frowned, but didn't argue.
"Do you think I'm pathetic for whining after two days?"
Gwen smiled apologetically and nodded.
"It's alright," he said, his voice softer. "I feel better knowing Merlin must be feeling pathetic too."
Gwen laughed again.
"He is, my king. I'm sure."
Arthur smiled — a genuine smile, for the first time in two days.
"Great."
Much later, when the mission finally ended and the druids were satisfied with Merlin and Leon's help, they began the journey back.
Merlin rode ahead, with an energy he hadn't had on the way there. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, his lips curved in an eager smile.
Leon, riding beside him, smiled.
"Anxious?"
"More than you can imagine."
"Ah, trust me, I know how anxious you are."
Merlin didn't respond. He spurred his horse, racing toward the castle with a speed that made Leon let out a surprised laugh.
"MERLIN!" Leon shouted. "WAIT!"
Merlin didn't wait.
He burst through the castle gates like lightning, dismounting before the horse had even fully stopped, and ran toward the castle.
In the royal chamber, Arthur sat on the bed, his eyes fixed on the door. His hands rested on his belly, his fingers drumming restlessly.
The door opened.
Merlin stood in the doorway, breathless, his hair disheveled and his eyes shining.
"Arthur..."
Arthur stood — with difficulty, his enormous belly making movement hard — and ran toward Merlin. It didn't matter that he was pregnant. It didn't matter that his back hurt. The only thing that mattered was that Merlin was there.
"Merlin!"
"Arthur!"
They met in the middle of the room, their bodies colliding in an embrace that was at once desperate and tender. Arthur buried his face in Merlin's neck, feeling the familiar scent, the warmth, the presence he had missed so much.
"You idiot, you're never leaving without me again," Arthur whispered, his voice thick.
"Please, never let me leave without you again," Merlin replied, his voice equally thick.
They stood there, embraced, for a long moment.
"You can't leave anymore, I'm serious," Arthur murmured against Merlin's shoulder.
"I know."
"You're going to stay here."
"I know."
"And you're going to take care of me."
"I will."
"You're going to massage my feet."
"I will."
"You're going to listen to me complain."
"I will."
Arthur lifted his head, his eyes meeting Merlin's.
"Do you promise?"
Merlin smiled — that smile Arthur loved so much.
"I promise."
Arthur didn't resist. He pulled Merlin closer, his lips meeting Merlin's in a kiss that was both urgent and soft.
When they parted, both were breathless.
"You're an idiot," Arthur murmured.
"Your idiot."
"Forever?"
"Forever."
Outside, in the corridor, Leon, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan were huddled around the ajar door.
"They're hugging," Gwaine whispered, with a mischievous smile.
"I know," Leon replied.
"It's cute."
"It's pathetic."
Leon didn't respond. But as he watched Arthur and Merlin embrace, he couldn't help but smile.