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1.The Dragon said it was Destiny.
Arthur finds it is different, in the woods and in the castle. In the castle, Merlin is his terrible servant who lives with Gaius and who makes fun of his knights. In the woods, Merlin is his terrible servant who is also his closest friend and who he would willingly give his life for. It’s not his feelings that change, necessarily, but out here, everyone understands the way they feel because they feel almost the same way. That undeniably makes it different.
The sky is starting to darken as they eat, Arthur and the knights having dragged Merlin out on a hunting trip. He complained, but honestly, Arthur swears he’s starting to enjoy parts of it. Perhaps not the killing animals, but the escape, the stars, the comradery, probably. And Arthur understands. He lives for those bits too. It’s not that he minds being King. It’s all he’s ever known or imagined and he’s happy with it, as bold a claim as that may be for one only officially crowned a week ago. Still, sometimes it is nice to escape for a short while and eat stew made with fresh meats around a fire. Arthur hears laughing, and pulls himself out of his thoughts.
“And that’s not even mentioning the time Uther married a troll!” Merlin was saying.
“Oi!” Arthur frowns. “Stop laughing at my father, he’s not even cold in the ground.”
“Well it’s not like he can hear us, Princess. And this is so fascinating!” Gwaine grins.
“Anyway, I’m not laughing,” Merlin shakes his head, definitely still laughing. “It’s literally just a fact that it happened.”
“He’s got a point, Sire,” Leon raises his eyebrows. The traitor.
Arthur shakes his head and clicks his tongue. He doesn’t mind, not really, and they know it. He’d even grudgingly admit to thinking it’s nice to have people who don’t step so carefully around him. Not out loud, of course, that would hardly be proper. Anyway, the stew Merlin makes is nice enough to almost make up for his complete lack of manners.
“I will put you all in the stocks. Don’t test me.” He says, and he truly thinks he is pulling off the Stern King act, until he notices his own smile.
By the time they finish eating and talking, the moon is high in the sky, and it is a warm enough night to sleep on bedding rolls without any shelter. Merlin goes to clean up while the knights prepare for the night and lay around the fire that is burning itself out slowly. And if Arthur puts his bed a little closer to Merlin’s than he ought to, he’s pretty sure nobody notices.
It is only when he can hear Percival’s gentle snores that Arthur allows himself to open his eyes and turn his head to find Merlin looking over at him. Merlin’s smile widens, and Arthur cocks his head, gesturing for Merlin to come closer. Arthur is no idiot. He knows he shouldn’t so desperately want to lay under the stars with Merlin in his arms, and he suspects that Merlin has the same fears. For now though, they settle with this - an unspoken embrace that they won’t even think about when the sun can see them.
2.His friend said it was betrayal.
There are definitely advantages to being King. Arthur likes that he can make his own judgements now - likes to think he is being more just and fair than Uther ever was. He likes that he isn’t always being monitored and told if he is a good enough son, a worthy heir. He even, admittedly, likes the clothes and the crown. However, the way he sees it, the biggest disadvantage is that he can’t ever get a moment to himself. He is constantly surrounded by guards and servants and as much as he tries to tell them that he can look after himself thank you very much and he already has a servant who is more than capable - which he even manages to say with a straight face - they still won’t leave him alone. He expects it will wear off eventually as they learn that he doesn’t want the same constant dedication his father did. For now, though, it’s frustrating.
It is only really his chambers that they don’t come into. Guards still stand at the end of the corridor, but he’s used to that, and the servants have gathered that Arthur won’t allow them to enter without clear permission. Apart from Merlin, of course, but that hardly counts, him being Arthur’s personal manservant and also probable best friend and all. He regrets thinking that almost immediately, remembering that he is currently annoyed at Merlin. The idiot failed to show up for his job today and left Arthur without anyone to share knowing looks with at today’s meeting.
It is a relief when Arthur’s duties in court are finished early and he can retire to his rooms. He is just thinking he should maybe send somebody to find Merlin and remind him that he is in fact required at the feast tonight when he hears the crash coming from his bedroom. Instinctively, Arthur puts a hand on his sword and races to open the door.
Well. There’s Merlin.
There’s also a washing pot smashed on the floor in a puddle of water. And a selection of Arthur’s own clothes, suspended in mid-air. They shouldn’t be doing that. Merlin is holding a broom and the horror in his eyes even scares Arthur. Arthur takes a step back and shuts the door again.
He stumbles over to the nearest chair and collapses on it. He counts to thirty and then stands up. He doesn’t have to address this. If he addresses it that means he has to think about it and if he thinks about it that means it happened and Arthur really, really doesn’t want it to have happened. He knocks on his own bedroom door, like some sort of commoner. Merlin opens it. Arthur peers inside. There is still a broken pot on the floor, but now the clothes are laying in messy piles and the broom is in the puddle. Arthur looks Merlin in the eyes.
“Please refrain from breaking all my pots, Merlin. And tidy that mess.” He says. His voice doesn’t even shake, which he is quite proud of. Merlin frowns, but Arthur doesn’t let him speak. Instead, he promptly leaves his chambers. There’s never been a better time for a training session with the knights, Arthur decides, so he gathers them and lets them complain about it. It’s a good distraction.
Over the next few weeks, Arthur gets good at pretending he didn’t see anything. Thankfully, Merlin seems to get the message. Sometimes, Arthur genuinely does question what he saw. Honestly, he really might have got it all wrong. There’s certainly no cause for concern. He has bigger problems, anyway, like preparing the castle in case Morgana attacks again. Still, he can’t help but notice little things. Like when they go on a hunting trip and Merlin lights the fire without anything in his hands. Or when Leon is playing a card game with Merlin and Leon just happens to lose his grip on the cards right before he makes a winning move. The time when the two of them almost get captured by bandits, until a branch falls from a tree and blocks the path just after they get past it. But Arthur isn’t thinking about it. Coincidence is a wonderful thing, and there’s no way that his idiot servant could really have done any of that.
3. His Mother said it was safety.
Arthur has been king for over a month now. It’s all going quite well, really. The people are warming up to him and he has heard rumours that they are feeling a lot better about his reign than his father’s. He misses his father, naturally, but he can also accept that he wasn’t the fairest of rulers, so he understands why they speak this way. He’s happy that they accept him as King so easily. Merlin rolls his eyes when Arthur mentions this.
“You just like that they like you, you arrogant prat.”
He has even gotten away with not having to face any magic within the kingdom, up until now. Up until this idiot of a druid shuffles into his court, asking to speak to a man named Emrys. Arthur doesn’t know what to do. For a start, he doesn't even know an Emrys, let alone have one in his court. And that’s not even getting into the fact that according to the laws of Camelot, he should technically be immediately ordering the execution of this woman. He doesn’t want to do that. It’s not like she’s hurting anyone. Arthur has never felt right about killing people for no reason. But really, she comes walking in here, putting him in this position! It doesn’t feel like a considerate thing to do.
“Who is this man you speak of?” He asks. He hears Merlin shuffle behind him, and assumes his servant dropped something. He manages not to turn around and roll his eyes.
“Emrys is our leader, Your Majesty. I need to speak with him. It’s important.” The druid woman says.
“Right. Well I’m afraid I can’t help you. You’re aware magic is banned in Camelot, aren’t you?”
The druid nods, hesitantly. Merlin coughs. Arthur still doesnt turn around. He deserves congratulations, honestly. He doesn't even need to turn though, after all, because Merlin takes it upon himself to try to sneak out of the room, which means Arthur both can look directly forwards and roll his eyes at Merlin.
“Merlin?” He sighs.
“Sorry. Um. I need some water.” Merlin says.
“Yes, fine, go on.” Arthur waves a hand. The majority of the court around them looks annoyed, a few of the older members even starting to tut. Arthur glowers at them, but he’s definitely going to shout at Merlin later. He turns back to the druid woman. “Right.”
“I was mistaken.” She shouts out. “There is no Emrys here.”
Well, obviously. Arthur nods.
“Leave, and never return.” He commands. The guards step to escort her out, but Arthur shakes his head. No need to treat her like a criminal. If she leaves as she is told, then surely nobody can blame him for that.
The session gets back to normal, after that. Just the typical Not Enough Grain and Too Much Sickness problems that he is equipped to handle. Merlin never makes it back in, but as Arthur is leaving he bounds up to the door and walks with him back to his room.
“What the hell were you playing at, Merlin?” Arthur asks. “Do you want me to look like I have absolutely no control whatsoever?” It comes out more pathetically than he would have liked.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Merlin grimaces.
“Just be quieter next time, I suppose.” Arthur says as they turn the corner. Merlin chuckles, but he sounds slightly on edge. They reach Arthur’s room, and Merlin locks the door behind them. That’s unusual. Arthur turns to him, brows furrowed in his unspoken question.
Merlin breathes out slowly.
“What is it?” Arthur asks.
“I should make up another lie, you know. But I am so tired of it and it’s not even like it’s actually a secret anymore.” Merlin mutters, more to himself than anything. He seems to shake himself and nods. “Ok. Arthur. I have magic. Was born with it. We should talk about that.”
Arthur feels his blood run cold. No. They definitely should not. But now Merlin has started talking he doesn’t seem to be able to stop and Arthur can’t figure out how to make his tongue work.
“And really, I would never dream to use it against you, Arthur, or Camelot, or anyone, really, unless it’s in defence. And I didn’t choose to have it but I do and it’s part of who I am and the prophecies all speak of how I should protect you with it so I do that but it doesn’t really make me evil, I swear, and-”
“Merlin.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Wow. Merlin really must be frightened, to be using titles.
Arthur sits down on his bed. Merlin continues to fidget where he stands.
Finally, Arthur lets himself think about it. He lets himself feel all the things he has been scared to feel and he has refused to think. The main emotion surging through him is one of betrayal. If he can’t trust Merlin, who can he trust? Why did Merlin never tell him? Oh Gods, was Merlin scared of him? Did Merlin have such little faith that he thought Arthur could ever do him harm?
“What do you mean, protect me?” Arthur tries.
So Merlin tells him. Staring at the floor the entire time, Merlin tells stories of all the times that apparently Arthur failed, and it hurts. It hurts that Arthur never achieved the things he thought he had. It rips him apart, in a way. And so does the fact that Merlin risked his life, so many times. That hurts too. Merlin tells him stories in the meekest voice Arthur has ever heard come from his mouth. After, Merlin stops, and says “I think that’s the big ones,” and Arthur stares at him.
“Why are you telling me now?” He asks flatly.
“The druids need help.” Merlin says, quieter than ever.
“Why would you know this?” Arthur continues to use his best monotone.
“The druid that came today told me. Um. The druids call me Emrys. Well. I’m in some prophecies. She said that there’s a beast attacking all their camps. They just need a place for their injured and homeless to stay, for a bit. They want to come here because I’m here. I think they’re under the impression I have a bit more leverage than I do.”
Arthur sighs.
“And what? You expect me to do something?” Arthur asks.
Merlin scrunches his face and his shoulders sag.
“Get out of the room, Merlin.” Arthur sighs. Merlin unlocks the door, his hands visibly shaking, before he turns and leaves.
Arthur can’t clear his mind well enough to think clearly about this. He knows he is upset. And he wants to be angry. He really does. But all he can seem to feel is pity. Pain for the man who suffered through all he did without any recognition.
Merlin doesn’t show up for work the next day. It is George that brings the King his breakfast.
That morning, he sends a message for Gaius to pass on to Merlin that he will not do him any harm. That afternoon, he sends a messenger to the druid camps, telling them that if they are inconspicuous about it he is willing to house those who need it most. That evening he sends a second message to the druids telling them that he will help them fight this beast if they need it.
4. The old King said it was a reward.
Two weeks go by, and Arthur hardly sees Merlin. He hears that Merlin is doubling down on his work with Gaius. Lancelot comes to him, one evening when Arthur thinks he had slipped away into the woods alone, and asks where Merlin is. Arthur shakes his head, but then Lancelot says “I know,” and Arthur finds out he knew about the magic all along and he feels jealous.
“So, what is he getting up to?” Arthur asks, and he tries to say it casually, at least.
“Tending to the sick. He helped the druids who were attacked get back to their camps. Uh. I’m not entirely sure what it was, but he got rid of whatever it was attacking them.” Lancelot says, his face schooled into a blank expression.
Arthur shut his eyes, ashamed he didn’t even know. “That sounds dangerous.” He says. Lancelot shrugs, then nods.
“He’s feeling really down. He misses you.”
Arthur makes a noise of exasperation in the back of his throat.
“Why did he have to go and tell me then?” He throws his hands into the air. “I don’t know what he expects me to do! It’s illegal. I’m being ridiculously lenient!”
“I know, I know. I don’t think he wants you to do anything. I don’t think he imagined this part - the part after he told you about it. But I think you should talk to him. We all miss having him about.”
Arthur makes no move to react, and Lancelot walks away. Arthur stays in the trees for some time, probably hours. When he starts to feel too cold, he runs a hand through his hair before climbing onto the horse he brought. He heads back, keeping the horse moving slowly. He misses Merlin too. Of course he does. But everything he has ever been taught tells him that magic is evil. It was drilled into him for all his life - magic corrupts and taints people until they aren’t even people anymore. That the kindest thing you can do for a sorcerer is kill them.
But the thing is, Merlin doesn’t seem very evil. Arthur saw him trip over his own shoelaces, once. There’s been times when he has shown up in the morning with his tunic on backwards. Plus, Merlin’s been in Camelot for years. Surely if he wanted to do them harm, he would have done it by now. He seemed so genuine when he was telling Arthur that he didn’t mean to hurt him, too. And Merlin does that thing where he tugs on his ear when he’s lying so Arthur would know.
The idea that Merlin has been ‘protecting’ him seems hardly better, though. He thinks back to the things Merlin said he has done to look after him. It makes him sound so pathetic. How can he be a great king if he can’t even look after himself? Furthermore, it makes him sound like such a horrible person. He has been insisting Merlin is an idiot, thinking nothing of it. Was that all an act? Who even is Merlin, and did Arthur ever see it? Then there’s all the things Merlin must have suffered. He couldn’t even talk about it! He has mourned people Arthur didn’t even know existed and never let it show, not once. How much has he dealt with all by himself? Arthur has always thought he knew the man well; could tell how he was feeling, but he fears that his servant was a stranger all along.
When Arthur gets back into Camelot, he takes a back passage - a secluded one with less experienced guards. It’s mostly used by servants, but Arthur used to come here a lot as a teenager. He never felt the need as he grew up and tried to become the perfect heir, especially not now he is King, but his knowledge of how to sneak in and out never failed him as a youth and it is certainly not going to fail him now.
He shrugs off the guards as he goes through the gates, insisting he needs to be left alone. Hah. They should never have let him in like that. He could be anyone really, they didn’t even ask to see his seal. If he wasn’t so grateful for it he’d have them fired.
He is tying up the horse, still avoiding attention when he hears the crying. It’s so quiet that if there were others around, he’d have missed it, but the sound is so heartbreaking that Arthur whips around to see who is there. It’s coming from behind the stables, he realises. He treads round, keeping his footsteps as silent as he would close to rabbits on a hunt, and cranes his neck around the corner.
It’s Merlin. It’s Merlin who is crying. Guinevere is sitting with her arms around him on the floor, squatting in the mud. Merlin is facing away. Guinevere is not. Her eyes meet Arthurs, and she scowls. It’s a shocking expression on her face, but it does clear up what Merlin is upset about. And Arthur is terrible at emotions, but the thought that after everything Merlin has done, Arthur has upset him this much - that isn’t nice. Guinevere jerks her head, and Arthur takes the hint. He edges away from the stables and climbs the stairs to his room. George is standing in his doorway. Brilliant. Exactly who he needs to see, Arthur thinks sarcastically.
“Ah, there you are Sire. We were beginning to worry.” George says while bowing deeply. It’s so unfair. How does he manage to be both overly respectful and passive aggressive all at the same time? Arthur nods, and pushes past him through the doors. George follows.
“Why are you serving me George?” He sighs, rubbing his face.
“Merlin said you asked for me. He said you no longer require his service.” George says, frowning slightly. He gasps. “Did I understand wrong, your Majesty? My greatest apologies if I have wronged you?”
“No, no. ‘S fine.” Arthur says. “It’s just, I never really fired him, exactly.”
George’s eyes widen. “I never meant to assume-”
“Nothing to do with you. Just. Tell him I’m expecting him back tomorrow morning, okay?” Arthur says. “And tell him if he keeps avoiding me like this I’ll have him in the stocks again, for old times sake.”
George nods dramatically.
Arthur rolls his eyes. “And deliver that bit as a joke.” He allows. “He’s apparently a bit fragile at the moment.”
5. The Knights at the table said it was friendship.
There is no servant waking him up the next morning. Instead, he is woken when Gwaine comes crashing in, followed by spluttering guards who clearly don’t know if they are supposed to arrest the knight or not.
“Son of a bitch. He’s still in bed.” Gwaine shouts.
“What the hell is going on?” Arthur breathes, sitting himself up. It’s never his favourite thing to say immediately upon waking.
“You’re late to training Princess. And I was all for saying, hey, fuck it, I didn’t even really want to be here anyways, but Leon got all serious saying we have a duty or whatever, and then Lancelot seemed a bit worried something had happened to you, and then I realised that you would never let us get away with being late so I came to get you. And here you are. Asleep.”
“Oh.” Arthur said. Merlin still wasn’t showing up, then. “I’ll be down in ten. Tell Leon he’s in charge until I get there.”
Gwaine nods. “Ok. I definitely won’t be doing that, but okay.” He pauses. “Why were you asleep? Are you not meant to get woken up and like, dragged around?”
Arthur appreciates that he didn’t use Merlin’s name, but they both know that is what is being alluded to.
“Hm. You’d think.” Arthur grimaces.
Gwaine snorts, but then his face flickers into something more weighty, for a moment, and he says, “look, I don’t know what you and Merlin fell out about. But it’s pissing me off a bit, ‘cos he won’t talk to me and I do not appreciate the way he will talk to Lance but not me. And like, no offence Princess, but I came to Camelot for him, really. So fix it.” He nods, and then skips out again.
Arthur makes it out to the training grounds about half an hour later to find Gwaine and Lancelot missing. The others - Leon, Elyan, Percival, and then all the ones that he doesn’t like quite as much - are doing pretty well without him. Still, if there’s two things Arthur is an expert on, it’s fighting, and asserting himself. So he shakes his head and strides over. He’ll deal with his personal issues later.
***
The trouble with later is that it tends to come pretty quickly, so now Arthur is pacing his room as he tries to figure out what to do about Merlin. He wants to talk with him, obviously. He just isn’t entirely sure what he wants to say. He had been hoping not to have to plan it too much. If Merlin had just stopped hiding away and showed up this morning they could have a nice spontaneous conversation. But now Arthur is having to think about it and he really can’t think of an outcome that works.
He is just about to give in and call for a different servant to take Merlin’s job when Gwaine bursts in, again.
“What the fuck?” Arthur says flatly.
“We need to talk, actually.” Gwaine says, his eyebrows raised. He swivels and shoos the guards hovering behind him. They look to Arthur who sighs and nods. They leave and shut the door.
“Why the fuck was I not the first to know about this whole magic business?” Gwaine demands.
So he knows then. “Keep your voice down.” Arthur begs. “And why are you asking me? It’s got nothing to do with me.”
“I mean, it does. In a way. But I’m not asking you, I’m asking the Gods at large. Because Lancelot? sure. They met before you were all blessed with my friendship, but why on earth would the idiot not bother to let me know once we did meet? But no, he waits until I ask Lancelot what’s going on and Lancelot sends me over like he has some sort of authority.” Gwaine storms. “Lance says its because he was trying to protect me and he didn’t want me to go down with him if you decided to murder, but obviously you would never do anything to hurt Merlin because you’re in love with him and I think if you were going to kill me you’d have done it by now. And no offence, but your laws are pretty stupid because everything I’ve seen in kingdoms where magic’s legal has got me feeling pretty okay with with it. Actually, judging people by what they do with the magic seems so much better, so he didn’t need to worry about me caring in that way. I just don’t get it.”
Arthur notices he has stopped talking vaguely, but can’t find it in himself to respond even to the blatant treason. He’s pretty sure his face has gone white, and his thoughts are, very unhelpfully, just circling the word ‘love’ round his brain over and over.
“Anyway-” Gwaine goes to continue, having caught his breath, but Arthur holds a hand up to stop him, and for once, Gwaine shuts his mouth.
“Love?” Arthur breathes.
“Ah.” Gwaine grins. “Yes.”
Arthur makes it over to his desk and collapses into a chair. Gwaine finds an armchair to throw himself into. It’s times like this that Arthur remembers that Gwaine is much more intelligent than he gets credit for. He knows how to talk bullshit, clearly, but he also knows when to shut up.
After at least five minutes of silence as Arthur leans his head on his desk, he looks up. Well. He has a plan. It’s a terrifying plan, yes, but the knights of Camelot don’t get scared. So he takes a deep breath.
“Tell me more about how other Kingdoms treat magic, Gwaine.”
***
Right then. Time to start destroying his father’s legacy. Arthur is doing everything he can not to become hysterical. He’s never loved the way that people who hadn’t hurt anyone were killed so quickly, but he never dared to consider doing things another way. Yet, if Gwaine is telling the truth, which is already a dangerous assumption, it can be safe. It will have to be done slowly, and it will take a long time to build any sort of trust between his courts and the users of magic. Hell, he’s still half convinced that magic is inherently evil and it’s going to take a lot of educating himself to change his mind. But Merlin? Definitely not an evil man. Just an idiot and a liar. That he is apparent in love with. And that is why he needs to learn more. He has already found all of the books that Uther confiscated on magic. He tried reading one but put it down about three sentences in. He’s not that big on reading, but he will do it. At some point.
Honestly though, he has bigger priorities now. He glances at the parchment on his desk, which reads:
find Merlin
tell Merlin I am not going to kill him or even banish him but I am still angry with him
tell Merlin I want to legalise magic
shout at Merlin for keeping secrets from me and ignoring me for almost three weeks without even being dismissed
legalise magic
find out if Merlin loves me
It’s not the sort of list he would like his father to be looking down and reading. Or maybe looking up? Arthur isn’t sure. He turns the parchment over, just in case somebody comes in. By this point he has no more excuse not to just get on with it, so he heads out to find Merlin. He likes having a plan. It makes everything feel less like treason against his Father and more like he is just doing a job.
He knocks on the door of the physician’s chambers, and Gaius looks surprised to see him when he pulls it open.
“What can I do for you, Sire?” He asks.
“Is Merlin around?” Arthur says.
A pause. “No.”
“You sure?” Arthur raises an eyebrow.
“He is out gathering herbs for me.”
“Mind if I come in, then?” Arthur insists. He walks in, without waiting for a response. He is the King, after all.
Merlin is literally just sitting at the table. The idiot didn’t even try to hide. The druids really ought to find a better leader.
“Hello Merlin.” He smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes but he hopes it comes across as friendly.
“Arthur.” Merlin replies.
“Let’s go for a walk.” Arthur says. It’s a command and Merlin can tell. He’s got that look in his eyes that he always gets when Arthur tells him what to do. Unusually though, he doesn’t complain. He gets up and gives Gaius a placating look, then leads the way out of the room.
They walk in silence as they leave, and Arthur takes them the back way out. The leaves on the trees above them are starting to turn golden and drop underfoot. Arthur knows this is Merlin’s favourite time of year. He mentioned it a few years back. Maybe being out in it now will make things better. They get to a clearing in the trees, close enough to the castle walls that they can hear the bustle of the town, but far enough away that they won’t be overheard or seen. Arthur squats down to sit on the floor. Merlin copies. This feels like a sitting down conversation.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Arthur accuses, then flinches. Great. Whining was exactly how he wanted to start this.
“Can you blame me?” Merlin frowns.
“Yes. A bit. When have I ever given you the impression I’d do anything to hurt you?” Arthur says, wounded.
“What?” Merlin shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Oh.” Arthur falls silent, trying to work out what the fuck he’s talking about.
“I just didn’t want to put you in that position. How could I make you choose between me and Camelot? You’d hate yourself either way.”
Arthur lets out a shaky breath. This was all for his benefit. Again. Merlin has let himself suffer for Arthur’s benefit. He doesn’t know how to start talking about that though, so instead he says “Why did you even tell me, then?”
Merlin laughs, but there is no humour in it. “I didn’t really mean to tell you, then, you know. I’d always imagined you finding out on some battlefield, somewhere. But then you saw. And you didn’t say anything and I felt so awkward and wrong all the time. And I’d just spent all morning lying to Percival about why his arm was getting better so quickly and I was just so tired of it all. So I ruined everything.”
“That’s dramatic,” Arthur snorts. Merlin doesn’t react. “Right, sorry. You didn’t ruin everything, Merlin. I don’t hate you for it and I didn’t hate you even when you first told me, really.”
“You sent me out of the room.”
“Yes. That was wrong of me. We needed to talk. Maybe I’m the one who ruined things.” Arthur agrees.
“No. It’s my fault.” Merlin closes his eyes. Arthur looks at him properly, at a loss for where to go from here. And fuck, does he look terrible. He’s looking almost as scrawny as when they first met, and there are deep dark circles under his eyes. He seems paler than before. The worst part is that the spark of joy that Arthur took for granted as a part of Merlin is gone. He just looks exhausted. How is Arthur supposed to be angry with that?
“Open your eyes.” He instructs. Merlin does. “You are such an idiot. Stop being awful. You don’t get to keep putting me above yourself. Anyway, I’m going to make magic legal.” There. He said it. “Gwaine says it’s possible, and before you complain this is not just to win you over. I have been thinking about it for ages.” (That’s a bit of an over exaggeration, but he does truly believe he would have gotten there eventually even without Merlin, so it will suffice as an explanation.)
Merlin blinks. “You aren’t taking advice from Gwaine?” And there’s the spark, coming back. Arthur smiles.
“Well, my favourite advisor is having a strop. I’ve been making do.”
“You can’t just make magic legal Arthur. It will never be that easy.” Merlin sighs.
“I know it won’t be easy. It’ll take years probably. I’ll need your help, I think. I think the first thing I need to do is make official peace with the druids.” Arthur shrugs.
Merlin turns to look him in the eyes with a hesitant grin. “Gods, you’re serious. I didn’t think you were.”
Arthur shrugs. “It’s been a long time coming, probably,” he says, and then looks away with a smirk. “I do what I must to get my armour polished.”
“I literally sent you George. He probably polished it ‘til it was a whole new colour.” Merlin laughs. Arthur has missed that sound. He shakes his head slowly and gazes at Merlin, with his stupid cheekbones and his idiot hair.
“I was going to be angry with you. For keeping secrets and lying to me and putting yourself in far too much danger. At first I really thought I should hate you. I still probably should be angry with you.” Arthur pulls up a blade of grass and twirls it in his fingers, speaking almost absently. “I should be angry with you, Merlin, but all I can think about is how much I love you.” Gods, Arthur hopes he isn’t blushing.
There’s at least thirty seconds that pass in silence. That definitely feels too long and Arthur is about to stand up and run back to his room and never get out of bed when he feels Merlin’s lips on his. And then, the world is right.
6. The servants said it was a job.
Merlin wakes him up the next morning, but it is different because Merlin is also in his bed. Arthur likes this a lot more. Merlin apparently does too.
“I get it.” Merlin nods.
“You get what?” Arthur asks, brow furrowed.
“Why you never want to get out of bed. Obviously I was wrong about the fact that you have better things to do because I think this mattress is the best thing that there is in the whole of Albion.”
Arthur agrees wholeheartedly. To prove this, he pulls Merlin closer by his waist. It’s like it is in the woods, only so much better, because they have all the time in the world.
“That being said,” Merlin declares and pulls the covers off the both of them. “I have a job to do and so do you. Rise and shine Arthur!” He chimes. Arthur decides he actually does hate Merlin a little bit. He buries his head in his pillows.
There’s a knock on the door and he sees Merlin look over questioningly. Arthur considers not letting them in because whoever that is should definitely just schedule a time and place to talk to him properly. He never gets to make that call, though, because the doors crash open and Gwaine strides in.
“Morning Princess,” he says, rubbing his eyes. He spots Merlin and does a double take. “Oh! Brilliant! I was just coming to see if he was doing his job again and here he is!”
Arthur nods, silently wondering if there was a coup he didn’t hear about that put Gwaine in charge. He rolls his eyes and Gwaine skips over to Merlin and pulls him into an embrace.
“I am so very happy for you both.” Gwaine nods. “I will tell the other knights that you are busy this morning so that you can have sex.” Arthur throws a pillow at his head as he dashes out, and Merlin’s cheeks colour.
“Well, I suppose everyone basically knows now.” Merlin groans.
Arthur decides that Gwaine is definitely not too good for the stocks, knight or not.
“Wait. No. He can’t tell everyone.” Merlin blurts out.
He’s already starting to run out after his friend as Arthur asks why. Honestly. This is the second day in a row of getting himself dressed. Obviously he doesn’t actually care that much, but it’s the principle of the thing. He sleepily heads out of his room in search of a different servant who can be trusted to bring him breakfast without running away.
It’s not until he is almost finished eating that Merlin waltzes back in and helps himself to a sausage. He sits down on Arthur’s bed to eat it, and explains that he figured Gwaine shouldn’t spread rumours due to the fact that they don’t want any suspicion that Arthur is ensorceled, and that’s the reason for legalising magic. Arthur’s eyes widen. He should have thought of that.
When he gets to training later, Gwaine winks at him and Lancelot looks away in a way that shows he is definitely just pretending not to notice. The point is further proven when he sidles over to Merlin at the edge of the field and they start to talk animatedly. Arthur looks away. Leon smirks at him, eyes flicking between him and Merlin, and Arthur rolls his eyes. Elyan nudges Percival in the ribs and nods over at Merlin with a grin. That’s maybe a good sign. They’re probably just happy he’s back, right? But then Gwaine saunters in their direction, whispering “I swear nobody else” as he passes Arthur, who promptly decides that keeping a secret from all his idiot friends is a lost cause. It’s a good job they are all too obsessed with Merlin to think the worst. Probably, if Merlin did put a spell on Arthur, they would take Merlin’s side anyway.
They can all come when he goes to find the druids. It will be nice.
***
Next time they are all in the woods, it is with a peace treaty to propose. Merlin thinks the druids will be open to it, if Arthur makes himself out to be truly sorry. That shouldn’t be hard. As he has learned more and more about these people, partially from books but mostly from Merlin, he feels worse and worse about the way they were treated.
Merlin has been telling him lots over the last two months, and Arthur has learned lots. He has learned that magic is not good or bad, and the person using it is the one who does the harm. (Or good, as Merlin puts in.) He has learned that the druids are an inherently peaceful people. He has learned that Merlin is the son of the dragonlord they found and he has learned that he was probably very insensitive when Merlin watched his father die. He has learned that there were prophecies made about him, calling him the Once and Future King, claiming he will bring about a Golden Age and bring magic back to camelot, and then unite the whole of Albion, so long as Merlin keeps him alive long enough. He has learned that these prophecies were thrust upon Merlin when he was just a teenager and he feels upset that Merlin has been carrying such a heavy burden by himself for such a long time. He has learned that Merlin is supposed to be the most powerful warlock there ever will be, and has even been called magic itself. He has also learned that this changes absolutely nothing about Merlin’s character, because Merlin definitely is still a clumsy idiot who doesn’t know the difference between types of spoon and sometimes puts his socks on inside out and hates to let him kill animals they have hunted or even found running around the castle.
The point is, that he truly does want to apologise to the druids. It’s just annoying that they are so hard to find. Merlin sighs and says that they have had to be because they don’t want to get killed. Arthur shoves him into a puddle.
They stop riding when the sky starts to darken, and set up camp for the night. As the winter approaches the blankets they need are a lot heavier and Arthur wishes the fire wouldn’t burn out while they sleep. He says this out loud and Merlin shrugs before his eyes turn gold and the fire grows stronger.
“Ok.” He says and Elyan starts to applaud. Gwaine quickly joins in and before Arthur knows it they are all laughing and the knights are asking him to do more magic, and Merlin is actually doing whatever they ask for like some sort of court jester. Arthur rolls his eyes. He knows his part of the performance. They all know that’s all it is.
They climb under the blankets, and Arthur shares the widest one with Merlin as they lay together. Everyone definitely notices.
7. He said it was love.
Arthur still hasn’t really been king for long, and he doesn’t feel particularly good at it yet. He isn’t doing a bad job, whatever he knows his father would think, but the people still don’t quite know what to make of him. Sometimes, he takes walks through the lower town and hands out food to the hungry and helps children reach the apples on trees. Merlin says that this is a ridiculous performance at being all good and noble. Arthur agrees that that might have a bit to do with it, but he does also like being helpful.
The servants have backed off and are treating him as they did when he was prince again, which is nice. There are still guards who seem to think they need to watch him wherever he goes, but he has gotten quite good at shaking them off without offending them.
He has made a tentative peace with the druids, who don’t properly believe it yet but Merlin is trying to bridge the gaps. Arthur still pays Merlin as a servant, but he makes an effort to give him as little work to do as possible and finds that he actually doesn’t mind doing a lot of the servant’s jobs for himself. In public, of course, Merlin still pours wine and carries bags and walks two steps behind Arthur. But Merlin has always been so much more than a servant and they both know it.
***
The castle is feeling oppressive tonight. There is no specific reason for it, but Arthur wants to get out. Merlin laughs and says they could always just leave, then, so they do. They take a horse each and charge through the woods under the stars, and Arthur doesn’t know what type of King he is going to be yet, but he can feel that the promised golden age is coming, and he wants Merlin by his side for it.
They come to an open space and Arthur slows down. Merlin copies. Arthur jumps from the back of his horse. Merlin sort of awkwardly slides down.
“Did you ever learn the constellations, Merlin?” He asks.
“No. Because I’m not a rich prat.” Merlin comments. “I always liked looking at the stars, though,” he concedes.
“Let’s do that, then.” Arthur decides and so they lay on the floor on their backs together. It is very uncomfortable, but then Merlin reaches out to hold him and it gets nicer. They lay in silence for a while, enjoying the night air and the occasional sound of owls in the trees.
“One day, Merlin, when we’ve sorted all of this out properly, I’m going to make you court sorcerer.” Arthur whispers.
“No you aren’t. That doesn’t exist.” Merlin whispers.
“Used to. In the old days. I’m going to bring it back.” Arthur shrugs. “People will have to call you by a title.” He adds.
“They definitely will not,” Merlin says. “But the rest of it sounds nice. You should do it. I dare you.”
Arthur laughs. They are quiet for a moment longer.
“And then, Merlin, I am going to marry you.” He says, still whispering. Merlin keeps his eyes on the stars.
“I’d like that.” He answers. “Will people mind, though?” He asks, sounding genuinely unsure.
“Lancelot had the idea I could frame it as an alliance to magic. To prove I’m dedicated to righting the wrongs and all.” Arthur tells him.
Merlin beams at the moon.
“This better not be the proposal.” He says.
“Of course not. I will do a much better proposal when you are least expecting it. Guinevere will tell me what to do.” Arthur nods.
“No, I mean this isn’t the proposal because I will be proposing.” Merlin whispers. “I’m going to tell Gwen she can’t help you at all, because you are a clotpole and I will do it better.”
“Shut up, Merlin.”
“What will you do next?” Merlin whispers, obviously just to be annoying.
“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll have to find some general King Stuff.” He snorts.
“Do you want to hear my idea?” Merlin murmurs.
“Well, I suppose you are going to be my most important councillor one day.” Arthur pretends to consider. “But you are not yet.”
“What is that supposed to mean? That’s a terrible answer. Do you want to hear it or not?”
“I would like nothing more.” Arthur says. He says it sarcastically but doesn’t really mean to, and Merlin takes it as an invitation anyway.
“I think we should listen to the dragon. Unite Albion. End all these wars that keep happening over land.”
“Imagine.” Arthur rolls his eyes.
“I am. Nobody in Camelot ever goes hungry if you can do anything about it. You actually get to know your people. I will never ever say this again but other kings are worse than you. I think if anyone is going to do it, it should be you.” Merlin is still speaking quietly. It’s as though they think that by whispering, the things they say don’t mean anything.
Arthur doesn’t talk for another minute.
“I suppose it would be nice. To not have people suffering all the time.” Arthur allows.
“The balance of the old religion would be restored, if you did it, I think.” Merlin mutters.
“It’d be impossible, though, Merlin.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You’d go down in history.” Merlin grins.
“We would go down in history.” Arthur corrects.
Merlin smiles. He turns to face Arthur for the first time since they lay down, and now they’re looking into each other’s eyes as they shiver in the cold.
“Yeah,” Merlin breathes. Let’s be legends, Arthur.”
“Let’s be legends.”
***
And so, they were.