Chapter Text
Merlin was tired,
He might not show it outwardly, but he did feel the ache in his heart.
The ache that closed up his throat and made his eyes sting every times he looked at his king.
Arthur was a king now, kind and just. He was everything Camelot could ever want. He ruled wisely, with his beautiful queen, Guinevere by his side. He was fair; he knighted commoners, recognized their honors and bravery just like he recognized those of the nobles.
But never once, since the coronation, did Arthur look upon him with anything close to recognition or even a simple acknowledgement.
Merlin was just a bumbling fool, existed only for entertainment’s sake. Someone who stood with Arthur the man, the prince and the king, always there but never to be taken seriously.
But-- he just needed to hold on a little bit longer, for one day he will tell his king about the magic and their destiny.
At least that’s what he told himself anyway. (Lies, the voice whispered. Merlin shivered but ignored it, for a time.)
It was getting easier, in a way.
Merlin just felt numb,
He didn’t voice any complaint when Arthur was in a bad mood and took it out on him.
He didn’t react when Arthur called him an idiot, a fool or called him incompetent.
Merlin didn’t say anything at all when he heard that Arthur was arranging another hunting trip and would Merlin please just go and be useless elsewhere.
The truth was Merlin hadn’t said anything for a long, long time. Since when he said something, advice or even a word of comfort, all Arthur would do was throwing them back in his face anyway.
(He also didn’t have a decent night’s sleep for a while now, but it’s fine, he wasn’t that important when Arthur was concerned.)
He resigned himself to the fact and pretended that no, he wasn’t a ticking time-bomb, waiting for a day to just……explode.
He kept telling himself that he wasn’t in love with Arthur, didn’t love him with all his heart and soul, wasn’t ready to lay down his life for him a thousand times over. That his heart wasn’t breaking into little pieces with everything thrown his way. No, he didn’t love him because Arthur was beautiful, golden and everything Merlin could not have.
Everything he could never have.
No, He wasn’t, just no.
And he was managing just fine.
(Liar.)
And it all promptly went to hell one day just because of some unremarkable event.
The day was shaping up to be a horrible day, Merlin could feel it in his bones, his magic tinged with foreboding.
It was the queen’s birthday, Merlin belatedly realized, a feast was going to be thrown in her honor.
To be fair, Merlin never attempted to talk with Guinevere anymore. He supposed that Gwen would not want to be seen talking so friendly with someone considered below her rank.
He knew that it was not fair to judge her like that. Gwen was a good friend and good person in general and she wouldn’t even think that of him, but since she never did try to talk to him either, well.
They did say that action speaks louder than word.
But that wasn’t the point.
The point was that Merlin was so fucking exhausted.
He was so exhausted that he blacked out a little and spilled an entire pitcher of water down Arthur’s pants.
Arthur yelped. “Can you be a little more of an idiot, Merlin!” He scowled, when Merlin looked up he saw nobles and knights hiding grins and smirks behind their hands, obviously amused at his humiliation. “I don’t know why I put up with you sometimes.”
Merlin couldn’t pinpoint why this make something inside him snap. It was just an insult, a milder one too, but suddenly the rage came unbidden, pure and unadulterated, burning hot in his chest, and he let it all exploded.
“I don’t know why I put up with you either, Sire.” Merlin chuckled, cold and brittle. Everyone’s eyes were on him now, suddenly felt the change in his attitude and the sudden tension in the air.
“I don’t know what have I done wrong, you know.” Merlin gestured around the hall, “I saved your life, I drank poison for you, I faced down a dragon and an immortal army for you, I…...I stood with you, through hell and back, through battles that I might not come out alive, even if I was not obliged to, I thought that you were a noble man, and one day you’ll be a great king, which you were.”
“But what I always wonder is that why you choose to knight commoners,” He let his eyes rest on Lancelot, Percival and Elyan.
“Choose a servant as your queen.” He stared at Guinevere, who met his eyes with her own, teary-eyed and uncomprehending.
He felt like a scum when he did this, but he had to know, had to understand what he did wrong, why he was so… expendable?
“And call me an idiot for believing in you, for laying down my life for you.”
Merlin stared at the familiar line of Arthur’s mouth, of the rigidity of Arthur’s entire form.
Prepared as he was, he couldn’t believe what Arthur said next.
"So you are just like them, always want glory--"
"I don't want either glory or any privilege! “Merlin snapped, eyes blazing, half-golden from his rage. “I only ever want your acknowledgement!"
“And you couldn’t even give me that?”
He was met with heavy silence.
“I watch you place your trust in a lot of people, Arthur, and many of them were misplaced. When I warned you, you never believe me. Just…would I lie to you, sire, about something like that? Do you think that lowly of me, then?”
“So I got that out of my chest now, “Merlin smiled, hollow despite himself. He put the empty pitcher down on the table with a clang and said to the silent hall.
“I quit, by the way. I thought, well, since you can't even spare me any acknowledgement, I guess I just have to find someone else who can."
He made his way out of the hall, one hand on the door handle. He turned back.
“I am foolish to think that I could have been your friend and that’s a mistake I won’t make again.”
Merlin looked back at the determined set of Arthur’s jaw and dredged up a smile.
“Sorry for overstepping my rank, and goodbye I guess.”
He felt light, oddly enough, freer that he’d ever been. He could stop pretending that everything was fine now.
He didn’t say that he was better than before, that he wasn’t hurt by this, by everything. Because he felt the pain as keenly as a stab wound.
He packed his bag silently. It would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic that after even a decade of serving Arthur, his belongings are still pitifully meagre.
“Why aren’t you at the feast, did Arthur dismiss you early?” He came face to face with his mentor.
Gaius was his father figure, Merlin loved him and would be sad to leave him, but if he stayed.
If he stayed, like he always did, his heart would have been broken beyond repair.
He would not settle for this, for far less than he deserved. Called him arrogant, but sometimes you had to make a choice like this.
“I am leaving, Gaius.” He managed to say and watched as his mentor’s face changed from confused to shocked and settled on resigned.
“I should have known,” Gaius hugged him tight. “Oh, my boy.”
Merlin felt his heart lurched and his eyes burned. He let out a choked sob.
“I just can’t, Gaius. I’m so tired.”
“Shhh…I know.”
They stood like that for a time. Merlin let himself relax against the warm, reassuring form of his mentor.
“I have to go, Gaius.” Merlin whispered.
Gaius’s face was pale and worn. He looked every inches of his age.
“I will miss you, Merlin.” He said. “Do send words, I will not have you disappear without a word.”
“Of course, and I will miss you too.” Merlin conjured up a shaky smile. “You were practically my father, thank you for everything, Gaius.”
“I know it wasn’t easy for you to be harboring a careless sorcerer.”
“Don’t be silly, I couldn’t have been more proud to call you my son, my boy.” Gaius patted him on the back. “Now go, your journey awaits.”
He considered saying goodbye to Gwaine and Lancelot but thought better of it, he really didn’t want to run into Arthur. It would make things painfully awkward.
After deciding that, He made it out of Camelot without any problem. Merlin thought that it was a bit anticlimactic, that after a decade of fighting monsters after monsters, saving arrogant prat, and believing in destiny, his world would end not with a bang, but a whimper.
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He called the dragon the first night of his journey.
Kilgarrah seemed to know that no amount of riddles would change his mind, so he kept quiet and just spent the night talking about Aithusa. Merlin missed talking to the white dragon, she was such a curious little thing. It was ages ago since he last saw her.
The Great Dragon was gone the next morning, but not without imparting one piece of wisdom.
“Destiny will pull you together again, young warlock, but it will be on your term this time.” He had said. “Go see the world, old friend.”
“You deserved it.”
After some times, and some ridiculously incompetent bandits, Merlin was in Ealdor, alone this time.
He ignored the villagers’ curious stares and made his way towards his mother’s house.
He found her sitting in her favorite chair, knitting. He felt a smile forming on his face. God, he missed her so much.
“Mom.”
Hunith half-turned, startled. Her whole face seemed to light up at the sight of her son.
“Merlin!” She stood up and threw her arms around him. Merlin breathed in her familiar smell and smiled,
“Oh, I have missed you.” Hunith ran her eyes over his body and narrowed her eyes. “You are thinner than last time I saw you.”
Merlin let his mother fussing over him, missing the love and attention he got from her.
Here he was not Merlin the fool, the servant or the warlock.
He was just Merlin, his mother’s son.
“What’s wrong?”
“How did you know there is something wrong?”
“I am your mother, Merlin.” His mother admonished. “You can’t hide anything from me.”
“I quitted, mum.” He confessed, settling down in front of the hearth.
“I just can’t put up with it anymore.” He stared at the flickering flames. “Nothing really changes.”
He found himself telling the entire story to his mother, who listened to him without comments. That was one of the things that he loved about her, she doesn’t judge, she just listens.
“You aren’t going to stay here either, are you?” His mother stated. It was more of an observation than a question or a plea.
“No, I suppose not.” Merlin grinned. “but I’m going to stay here for a week or so because I really miss you, Mum.”
“You silly boy.” Hunith sighed in fond exasperation.
Merlin spent the following week with his mother, telling tales after tales. He helped her with harvest and used magic to repair some of the damage in the house.
After a week passed, Merlin packed a bag while Hunith was telling him for the hundredth time to take care and to eat a lot.
“I don’t want to see you getting thinner the next time you are here, young man.” She said sternly. "Promise me, Merlin."
Merlin hugged his mother and kissed her cheek.
“Promised.”
-To be continued-