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The day began like any other in Camelot — with the sun rising over the towers and birds singing in the gardens. But there was something in the air, an invisible tension that made the hairs on the back of one's neck stand up. The knights felt it, the servants felt it, even the animals in the stables seemed restless.
Arthur woke with a pain that was unlike any other.
It wasn't the back pain that had accompanied him for months, nor the discomfort of the babies moving. It was something deeper, more primal — a wave that came from within and spread like fire through his entire body.
"Merlin," he called, his voice hoarse.
The sorcerer was at his side in the blink of an eye, his eyes already gleaming with magic before he even understood what was happening. "Arthur..."
"It's happening," Arthur said, and his voice trembled — not from fear, but from anticipation. "They're coming."
Merlin felt his heart race. He knew this moment would come, but now that it was here, fear and joy mixed in an overwhelming torrent.
"I'll call Gaius," he said, already rising.
"Merlin." Arthur grabbed his wrist with surprising strength. "Don't leave me."
"Never." Merlin kissed his forehead. "Everything is going to be alright, okay? I'm here."
While calming his beloved, he discreetly cast a spell to summon Gaius to the room.
The royal chamber was transformed into a delivery room in a matter of minutes. Gaius arrived with his tools, his expression calm, but his eyes betrayed the gravity of the moment. Gwen stood at the door, pale but determined to help however she could. The knights crowded in the corridor, each dealing with the anxiety in their own way — Gwaine paced back and forth, Percival prayed softly, Elyan held a bucket where he vomited from nerves, and Leon stood motionless as a statue, his eyes fixed on the door, almost more anxious than Merlin himself.
Inside the room, Arthur was already lying in bed, his enormous belly rising like a mountain under the covers. Sweat was already beginning to drip down his forehead, and his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, as if he were waging a silent battle against the pain.
"Arthur," said Gaius, approaching with professional calm. "I need you to listen to my voice. We're going to do a cesarean section. Your children will not be born in the traditional way — they are in a magical sac, not a womb. I need to cut you to reach them."
Arthur nodded, his jaw tight. "Do what you need to do."
Gaius looked at Merlin. "You will stay by his side. You will use your magic to keep his body and the babies stable. And you will hold his hand, encourage him to squeeze yours to calm the pain, and remember to stay alert in case he clenches his teeth too hard."
Merlin nodded, his hand already finding Arthur's. The king's fingers closed around his with a strength that surprised him.
"It's going to hurt like hell, isn't it?" Arthur tried to joke, but with his hoarse voice he just sounded scared.
"Yes, it will hurt a lot." Merlin squeezed his hand. "But I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, okay? You are the greatest warrior of all — don't falter now, my king. It will be over soon..."
Gaius began the procedure. His hands were firm and experienced, but even he felt the weight of the moment. The first incision was made with surgical precision, and Arthur grunted, his body tensing under Merlin's hands.
"You're doing well," said Merlin, his voice soft. "You're doing very well."
"I'm going to kill you," Arthur whispered through gritted teeth. "When this is over, I'm going to kill you."
"I know, my king. I'm looking forward to it."
Gaius continued his work, his hands moving with a precision bordering on art. The incision deepened, and he reached the wall of the magical sac surrounding the babies.
"Merlin," said Gaius, his voice firm. "I need you to keep the incision open. Use your magic to prevent it from closing."
Merlin raised his free hand, and his eyes glowed with an intense gold. Magic flowed from him like a stream of light, enveloping the incision and keeping it open. Arthur gasped, feeling the touch of magic inside him.
"It hurts like hell," Arthur said, his voice trembling.
"I know, my king." Merlin kissed his forehead. "But it's almost over, right, Gaius?"
Gaius didn't even bother to respond to that stupid statement. He reached for the first baby. His hands enveloped the small form, and he felt the warmth of life pulsing under his fingers. With a careful movement, he pulled the baby out of the magical sac.
The world roared.
The fire in the hearth exploded into flames that reached the ceiling, and the candles throughout the room burned with an intensity that blinded. A roar — not a cry, but a roar — echoed through the castle, so powerful that the knights in the corridor felt the ground shake beneath their feet.
Gaius held the baby in his hands, his eyes wide. The boy was perfect — pink skin, blond hair like his human father, and eyes that gleamed with a gold that resembled Merlin.
"It's a boy," said Gaius, his voice filled with wonder. "An heir for Camelot."
Merlin felt tears stream down his face. His magic enveloped the baby, cleaning and warming him, and he brought him close to Arthur.
"Look, my king," said Merlin, his voice thick with emotion. "He's ours."
Arthur lifted his head, his tired eyes meeting the baby's face. A smile — tired, but radiant — formed on his lips.
"He's perfect," Arthur whispered. "Godric... Godric de Bois..."
The name echoed through the room, and the fire seemed to dance in response, as if saluting the new heir of Camelot.
The second baby came minutes later, but not without difficulty. Arthur was weakening, his skin gleaming with a golden sweat that dripped pure magic from his pores. His veins pulsed with molten gold, and his eyes shone with a light that was not entirely human.
"Merlin," said Arthur, his voice weak. "I'm tired."
"I know, my king." Merlin squeezed his hand. "But you need to stay awake, okay? There's not much left."
Gaius reached for the second baby, and again the world responded. An earthquake shook the castle, and the sound — a deep, primal howl — echoed through the stone walls. The ground trembled under the knights' feet, and Gwen held the wall to keep from falling.
"It's a girl," Gaius announced, his voice full of admiration. "A princess for Camelot."
The baby cried — a howl that was both human and animal, as if the earth itself was celebrating her birth. Merlin enveloped her in his magic, cleaning and warming her, and brought her close to Arthur.
"Helga," Merlin said, remembering the choice he and Arthur had thought of for names. "Helga de Bois."
Arthur touched his daughter's face with trembling fingers. "She's so small."
"She's perfect." Merlin kissed Arthur's forehead. "Just like you."
The third baby came with the storm.
The sky darkened over Camelot, and thunder began to roar even before Gaius reached the small form. The wind began violently, battering against the windows with a force that seemed to want to break in. The wind howled around the towers, and the knights in the corridor felt the air grow heavy with electricity.
When Gaius pulled out the third baby, a scream — high, piercing, like the call of an eagle — echoed through the room. A thunderclap so powerful the entire castle shook accompanied the cry, and a flash of light illuminated the room.
"Another girl," said Gaius, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of the storm. "Another princess."
Merlin enveloped the baby in his magic, feeling the strength emanating from her.
"Rowena," said Arthur, his voice hoarse. "Rowena de Bois."
Merlin looked at his daughter, his eyes bright with tears, but full of love. "She's going to be stubborn."
"She's going to be wonderful."
The fourth baby was the most difficult.
The golden glow surrounding Arthur began to fade. The king's veins, once pulsing with molten gold, were now dimming, and his skin had lost its supernatural shine. The magic was running out, and Merlin felt panic grow in his chest.
"Gaius," said Merlin, his voice tense. "The magic is running out."
"I know." Gaius worked faster, his hands moving with an urgency he hadn't shown in years. "The last baby is deeply protected. I need to be careful."
Merlin used all his strength to keep the incision open, feeling the magic drip from his fingers like water. Beside him, Arthur was almost unconscious, his breathing weak and irregular.
"Arthur," Merlin called, his voice desperate. "Stay with me. Please, stay with me."
Arthur murmured something unintelligible, but his eyes remained closed.
Gaius reached for the last baby and pulled him out with a careful movement. But the silence that followed was more terrifying than any roar, howl, or thunder.
The baby didn't cry.
Gaius held the small form in his hands, his eyes widening with horror. The boy was pale, motionless, and his chest didn't move.
"Merlin," said Gaius, his voice tense. "He's not breathing."
Merlin felt the world collapse.
He took the baby from Gaius, his fingers trembling as he held the small form against his chest. Magic flowed from him, trying to warm the cold body, trying to pump the tiny heart that refused to beat.
"Please," Merlin whispered, his voice broken. "Please, don't leave me. Don't leave me, my son."
He closed his eyes, concentrating all his magic on the small form. The magic in his body, the magic in his blood, the magic in his soul — he offered everything, like a prayer, like a sacrifice.
"Please, Great Mother," Merlin pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't abandon me now. Don't take my son."
Time seemed to stop.
Outside, the storm that had accompanied Rowena's birth began to calm. The wind diminished, becoming a gentle breeze. In the room, the water in the basin beside the bed began to move, spinning slowly in a whirlpool.
The sound was subtle — almost imperceptible.
A sound of water moving, soft and continuous, like the slithering of a snake over the surface of a river. The baby's cry was low, barely audible, but Merlin heard it as if it were the most beautiful sound in the world.
He opened his eyes and saw his son's little golden eyes opening, shining with a light that was both ancient and new. The baby cried — softly, gently — and Merlin felt tears stream down his face.
"Salazar," Merlin whispered, his voice hoarse. "Salazar de Bois."
He held his son against his chest, feeling the tiny heart beat against his own.
---
Gaius worked tirelessly to close Arthur up. The blood loss was severe, and the king was weak — weaker than Merlin had ever seen him. But the physician was persistent, and his rusty magic still had enough strength to keep the king stable.
"I did it," Gaius announced, his voice laden with exhaustion and relief. "He's going to be fine. He just needs rest."
Merlin sighed, the weight of the day finally dissipating. He looked at the three small cribs he had prepared with such care, each now occupied by a tiny heir.
Godric, the firstborn, slept wrapped in his red blanket, his skin gleaming in the candlelight. Helga, the princess, was in the crib with the yellow blanket, her eyes closed in deep sleep. Rowena, the little storm, slept wrapped in the blue blanket, her chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm. And Salazar, the youngest, was in his dragon father's hand, his low, soft cry a blessing to Merlin.
Merlin knelt beside Arthur's bed, his free hand finding the king's. Arthur was pale, but his breathing was steady, and a slight smile formed on his lips.
"You did it," Merlin whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You brought our children into the world."
Arthur opened his eyes slowly, his eyes meeting Merlin's.
"Are they alright?" he asked, his voice weak.
"They're all fine." Merlin kissed his hand. "Godric, Helga, Rowena, and Salazar. All of them are fine."
Arthur smiled — a tired, but radiant smile.
"Four," he murmured. "Four little babies."
"And they are all as beautiful as you, my king."
Arthur laughed — a low, but genuine laugh.
"They're going to be trouble."
"The best kind of trouble."
Arthur pulled Merlin closer, his forehead touching the sorcerer's.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too." Merlin kissed his lips. "More than anything."
The sun began to rise over Camelot, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Outside, the knights embraced in the corridor, crying with relief and joy. Gwen sat on the floor, her hands covering her face, sobbing with happiness.
And in the royal chamber, four babies slept in their cribs, protected by their parents' love.
The kingdom of Camelot had its heirs.
And the world would never be the same.