Archive of Our Own ^beta

1

It had been nearly a year since Merlin had slipped up at the Battle of Camlann, saving Arthur’s sorry life by revealing his magic to the King. Arthur had stared at him with wide eyes as the gold from Merlin’s own melted away, studying the man he’d known for the past five years. 

Merlin had stared back, face defiant but just waiting for Arthur’s arm to swing his sword through the air into his neck. Or have the Knights bound him and drag him back to Camelot to tie him to the prye. Merlin could see Mordred behind Arthur, his own eyes filled with fear.

But Arthur had only straightened his body from the fighting stance he’d occupied and softened his gaze.

“Took you long enough, Merlin.” Arthur had laughed out gently, as the fighting around them died down. Confusion morphed into Mordred's face and Merlin was sure he looked the same. 

“Wh- What do you mean ‘took you long enough?’” Merlin spluttered out.

“Do you really think I’m that dense Merlin. I’ve seen enough tree branches falling and conveniently placed vines that definitely weren't there a few seconds before to know someone in our party had something to do with it.” Arthur had steadied Excalibur in his hands, shifting the weight. Merlin had taken a small step back and the smile on Arthur's face had quickly fallen. 

“Oh,” Arthur had cast his eyes down to the sword and Merlin’s eyes went wide as in the middle of the battlefield Arthur lifted his arm and sheathed his weapon, raising his hands in surrender. 

“Merlin, I would never hurt you.” Merlin remained silent, face still set as the King inched forward through the mud. “I have known for a while, Merlin. I do not mind it.” Arthur kept his gloved hands raised and released a puff of air. “I am not my father.” 

Merlin's own stance softened at the comment. A single tear trickled from his eye as he held Arthur’s gaze. 

The blonde was now only a few feet away and the declining battle around them disappeared into the background. 

“I was born with.” The only excuse he could ever give spilled out from his lips and Arthur’s eyebrows dipped inwards. 

“Merlin, you saved my life. Not just today I’m sure. I will not harm you, as your King and as your friend, you are safe.” Arthur lowered his hands down, letting them fall by his waist. 

Merlin had remained still for what felt like hours but he couldn’t help the relieved smile that crossed his face. He’d almost wanted the King to be mad, all those years of hiding, sneaking away in the middle of the night, actually doing his chores by hand, for not even a hint of an argument. One more question burst past his lips. 

“When did you realise?” 

Arthur dipped his head and laughed lightly, 

“I’ll tell you when you tell me how many times you saved my royal arse without my knowledge.”

Merlin laughed with him then and Arthur pulled him into a tight embrace. He’d called him a friend, he’d hugged him. His tone was warmer than he’d heard it before. Merlin let his eyes close as he grasped at Arthur’s chainmail. The King patted Merlin’s back and pulled away, still wearing his brilliant smirk. 

“C’mon Sorcerer, we have a war to win.” 

“I’m a Warlock, clotpole.”

Somehow that event had led him here. He’d been promoted almost immediately to Court Sorcerer after the Battle was won and Arthur had begun to repeal the ban on magic. For some reason that meant he now had to sit in on the council meetings that took place once every week, discussing the Druids and the plans he’d created to include magic in training or teachings within Camelot. But now he was sitting on his seat listening to the Lord’s of the city tear the King to shreds. 

“We’ve been over this Lord Brynn, Magic has a home in Camelot and if you don’t like that you can leave this meeting as and when you please-” Arthur stood up at his place at the table, fingers drilling into the wood.

“But Sire, do you not agree that someone of a, well a higher education should be in charge of this sector of Camelot’s defences. Merlin here is just a servant and I mean no offence to Lord Merlin, but his upbringing isn't one to even be considered when looking for someone in such a high position. His education is one of peasants, not one of Lords and truly I find this way of ruling dishonourable to those who have ruled before you.” The dark haired man was too standing in his place, however he held his hands by his side though his features were determined. He reminded Merlin of an angry crow, one you didn’t want to cross but if you had the right weapon, good aim and even better timing, he was an easy take down. 

Merlin had laughed loudly, falling back in his chair as Arthur’s most trusted Knight’s laughed with him. 

“Lord Brynn, I know you are not new to this council so you must know that authority by birth right is not how the King operates, that includes education or ‘lack thereof.’  You can scream your problem with me all you desire but do not bring Arthur’s way of ruling into that discussion.” 

“Take a look at my closest Knights, Lord Brynn, in case you need the reminder.” Arthur gestured across the table. “Sir Leon here is the only one of the six who was born of nobility. Elyan is a blacksmith's son, Lancelot was a wanderer until he ventured to Camelot, Percival is from a small village to the east of here, Mordred was born a Druid and Gwaine- well honestly Lord Brynn I’m not sure what Gwaine was doing before he arrived in Camelot but I’m sure it involved a lot of alcohol and a lot more violence. These six men are willing to lay down their lives for me, one of them has made several attempts at it already.” Lancelot threw the Lord a smug glance. “They are my most loyal, my most trusted. I would die for them as they would for me.” Gwaine gave a small wave to the man as the King finished his words. 

“I understand that Sire, but are you not in agreement that Uther’s way of running this court with those born into the environments they speak of was not a superior way of ruling the City-”

“The King is not his Father, Lord Brynn.” 

“Lord Merlin, I’m not sure when I requested your input.” 

Merlin sprung to his feet, his wooden chair screeching against the stone floor. 

“You requested my input when you compared a man who would have had half of this court executed for simply existing to the one standing in front of you now, who spared my life, Mordred’s life. Who gave men from across the continent a chance to prove themselves, to become something more than they were. You dare insinuate that the fear and suffering Uther Pendragon instilled in this Kingdom was a better environment than the thriving city Arthur has worked so hard to create. As the King previously stated, if you do not like it, Lord Brynn, you are free to go.” The Warlock's face ran red with rage and his nimble hands held a firm grip on the edge of the table. Lord Brynn stumbled over his words, lips smacking in frustration and embarrassment. He then huffed out loudly and kicked his chair backwards, storming towards the door. Merlin slumped back into his chair.

The room remained silent except from the small “ooooh” let out by Gwaine as the slam of the door echoed around the throne room. 

Arthur cleared his throat. 

“I think that’s enough for one day, we will reconvene next week, you’re all dismissed.” 

The King and the Warlock were the last two to exit the hall. 

“You know, Merlin, you are still permitted to address me formally when we are in council meetings.”

“Oh, shut up you clotpole.”

Arthur chuckled, smacking the sorcerer on the arm playfully, sprinting down the stone corridor as Merlin’s footsteps chased after him.

2

“Stupid, stupid stupid-” Merlin puffed out as he sprinted through the forest. He’d told Arthur not to go, or to at least let Merlin go with him so that he could protect him from afar if he needed it. Arthur had said he’d think about it. Then he’d fled. 

Now his King was currently somewhere in the Western woods, trying to find the culprit of the raidings that had been occurring throughout the city for the past week. They would never attack too harshly but the still undiscovered group would somehow sneak past the patrols of guards throughout the city, break into houses, market stalls, even the Kings stables were hit a few days ago, they would steal whatever they could, drive the occupants from their home if they were feeling nice enough and set the place ablaze. Why? They were yet to figure it out but once the stables were targeted Merlin suggested they were building themselves up for a larger attack on the castle. 

Either way the rage that flowed through Arthur’s blood as he’d heard the news from Leon that the attackers had made another hit on the lower town. A young family, a mother, father and their two daughters were inside the house when a group of men threw a torch into the dry haystack outside, not one of them made it out in time. 

Now Merlin was stumbling through the woods, his blue robes flapping in the wind, searching for any sign of his King. 

“God’s damn it Arthur, you prick.” Merlin yelled to himself as he sprinted over the forest floor, wincing slightly as his ankle snagged on a tree root sending him rearing forward, he regained his balance, limping slightly as he carried on past the trees. 

Then voices echoed through the woodland. A booming voice carried by the slow winds. Merlin reared to a halt, He muttered a few quiet words and let his magic travel through the forest, scanning over every inch that he could stretch to. A flash of blonde hair flickered in front of his eyes and he let his magic go. Eyes turning blue as he crouched low, using the large trunks of the trees to hide his body further in the night, he made his way further West, running his hands along the bark of the wood as he neared the clearing his magic had shown him. 

The dark green of the forest roof began to scatter away and the stars twinkling in the sky came into view. Merlin noticed several shadows in the middle of the clearing. A tall man stood near the centre, shouldered by 3 men on either side, each wearing thich cloaks made from some kind of animal hides. It wasn’t winter in Camelot, it wasn’t even cold. But what caught Merlin’s eye the most was the shadow in the middle, low on the floor as if it were kneeling, shoulders pulled back awkwardly.

“Speak you insolent boy.” A slap sounded within the clearing and Merlin flinched as Arthur’s head jerked to the side. 

“I have nothing to say to a man I don't even know the name of, to a man who has attacked my people.” Arthur’s valiant voice spoke out, his head remained focused on the man in front of him.

Then the figure directly to the man's left spoke. 

“You best answer the man, pendragon or-” the taller man held his hand out in silence. He snapped his mouth shut. 

“I needn’t tell a dead man my name. Tell me what I want to know, Pendragon and I may make your death a quick one.”

“I will die smiling before I tell you anything.” 

The leader of the group hesitated for a moment, studying the kneeling king in front of him as if he were a dog that needed taiming. His hand moved to his sword. 

“So be It, Arthur Pendragon, your loyalty to your kingdom is unrivalled. It’s pitiful. Men!” He yelled at his party to his sides and one of them moved behind Arthur hoisting the King off of his knees. The leader gripped Arthur’s face in his hands, turning him to look into his eyes as he opened his mouth to bid the King farewell.

Merlin flew from the bush, heart pounding, his hands stretched out in front of him as he yelled, 

“Hands off!” The faces of the attacking men twitched to greet him as his eyes flashed their brilliant shade of gold and the burly man holding his sword went flying backwards, spine cracking hard as he collided with a large oak on the other side of the clearing. A few of the other men started to attempt to scatter at the spectacle, sprinting for cover in the safety of the trees. But Merlin wasn’t feeling particularly generous to the men who had a sword to Arthur’s chest seconds ago. His eyes pulsed gold again and the ground shook around them, sending the men flying to the floor, some smacking their heads so hard they fell limp in the grass. Another man had joined to hold the struggling Arthur. The shorter of the pair had reached to his belt and pulled a small red dagger. 

“Make another move, Sorcerer and I’ll cut his throat out.” 

Merlin slowly came to a stop. He flicked his head to the side and the man's dagger dislodged itself from his hand, disappearing into the night air. 

“I said, get your hands off my King.” Merlin threw his hands out once more and a violent wind shot towards the men, splitting in half to avoid Arthur as it reached them. They soared backwards in the same direction as their leader, landing hard against wood and dirt. More harsh snaps sounded as their bodies became dormant. 

Merlin’s tough eyes flickered back to their lovely blue. He let out an annoyed breath. 

“Merlin.” 

“Don’t ‘Merlin’ me, Arthur ‘I’ll go alone into the woods in the middle of the night to try and defeat what could be an army of men trying to attack my city’ Pendragon, I just saved your arse. Again.” Merlin yelled around, flailing his arms as he stood in place, staring angrily at the blonde. 

Arthur raised an eyebrow, an annoyed look on his face. 

“You’re really telling me off for that?” 

“Shut up, it's not the same when I do it.” 

“How is it not the same?” 

“Cause when I do it I don’t need my Court Sorcerer to save my life cause I’m not an idiot.” 

“Of course you’re not, Merlin.” Arthur said sarcastically, still kneeling in the dirt from where he’d dropped when the breeze came forward. “Now can you untie me? This is rather undignifying.” 

Merlin straighted, lifting his chin toward the sky

“Apologise.” He said sternly, a hint of humour on his tongue. 

“Apologise? For what exactly?” Arthur gasped out.

“Apologise for saying that you’ll think about it and then leaving anyway.”

“I did think about it, Merlin, and I thought to go.” 

“That's not funny, Arthur.” 

“Merlin, untie me.” 

“No, I think I’m just going to leave you here, I’m exhausted, I’m going back, you can hop your way to Camelot on your own.” The dark haired man spun, heading back towards the trees he’d spilled from minutes earlier. 

“Merlin!” 

“Sorry Sire, what was that? Didn’t sound like an apology to me.”

“By the name of the Gods” Arthur mumbled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Merlin.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that, Sire.” 

“I’m sorry, Merlin.” he said louder this time, hoping his Warlock would have some decency left in him to turn around and cut his bonds. Merlin stopped, spinning on his heel as he slowly limped back over.

“See, that wasn't so hard was it.”

“Are you limping Merlin? Are you hurt?”

“No, you prat, whilst i was so bravely coming to rescue you I got into a monstrous altercation with a giant boar who grabbed me by the ankle and flung me around the forest.”

Arthur pressed his lips into a fine line, inhaling quickly.

“It was a tree root, wasn't it?”

“Yes, Arthur. It was a tree root. What more do you want from me?”

Arthur laughed as he gripped his now free wrists, glancing up at his Court Sorcerer, staring shamelessly at Merlin’s reddening face as he laughed. Merlin held out his hands once he’d released the ropes of Arthur’s legs, hauling him up. 

“Come on, your royal pratness. I’m exhausted.” 

“I’ll race you back!”

“Absolutely not.”

3

When Lords from other Kingdoms visited Camelot it was always customary for the King to throw a feist, a grand party with lots of music and even more wine. People would dance throughout the night and eat all the food they could desire. It didn’t mean Merlin had to enjoy it. 

He sat to the right of the King, Leon was to Arthurs left. Gwaine had insisted on sitting next to Merlin. He’d been flirting with anything that moved all night winking at the next poor sod to refill his goblet though Merlin had chuckled when in his drunken state he’d picked up said goblet and yelped at his own reflection, throwing the full cup all over the table. 

“Sorry-” he muttered and swiped his long hair from his face as he patted the liquid away with a napkin, holding his cup back up to be refilled and winked as the young serving man met his eye. 

“Gwaine, not everything with a pulse wants to sleep with you, sit down.”

Merlin had dragged him back into his seat. 

“Ohhh someone’s stroppy tonight, What is it Merlin? Lover boy Arthur getting too much attention from the ladies?” 

He scoffed at the comment, but he refused to meet Gwaine's eye.

“Oh my God’s It is-”

“No, Gwaine, I do not care who the King, who may I remind you is sitting right beside me, takes an interest in. Just- something about this feast doesn’t feel right.” His magic had been itching under his skin since they’d paraded into the hall. The visiting Lords sat on the adjoining tables to the left and right. They both sat centred with their most trusted flanking them. But something made Merlin feel uneasy. Something hung low in the air and his magic screaming at him to find the problem only made it worse. 

“Another funny feeling?” 

“I’ll have you know Gwaine, my funny feelings are almost always correct.” 

“Hey, I'm not saying you’re wrong, just when the fighting breaks out try not to get me involved. I fear I might take the wrong person’s head off.” Gwaine swayed in his seat, laughing to himself as a droplet of wine spilled from the rim of his cup, sinking into the fabric of his brown tunic. Merlin knew Gwaine would be the first person to enter a fight should one arise, he was just avoiding suspicion of edging one on.

Merlin straightened his back against his chair as he searched the room once more, people were chatting loudly, some with mouths full of food. The manners of some born into nobility truly disgusted the Warlock. He looked through the crowds and his nervousness only worsened when nothing obviously out of the ordinary presented itself. Women laughed and the servants were fluttering around the room like butterflies, dotting in and out between tables, laughing kindly and sinking back into the shadows only to reappear somewhere else in the hall. Merlin had become a master at that.

“Merlin, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost, at least try and pretend you’re having a good time.” 

“I’m having a splendid time, Sire.” He lent forward onto the table on his elbows, taking a swig of wine from his half empty cup.

“Right, out with it. Who’s trying to kill me now?”

“Why do you always assume I’m feeling something’s wrong.”

“Uh, because I have ears, Merlin, and you have a look about you when your magic tells you something’s wrong.”

“What, you’re not going to take the piss and mock me.” Merlin took another sip of wine,

sulking back into the wooden chair.

“No, because weirdly enough I’ve come to trust your funny feelings and If I need to tell Leon to be on high alert, I will.” Merlin glanced at his King, the sudden sincerity caught him off guard.

“Give me a moment, Sire.” Merlin said as he quickly glanced at Mordred who was chatting to Elyan on the other side of Leon. His dark hair framed his face as he smiled away, though Merlin knew enough about the younger Knight to know it was fake.

“ Can you feel it too, Mordred ?” He’d asked in his mind, hoping the Druid would stop his conversation to respond. He quickly did.

“God’s I thought you’d never ask, it’s driving me mad, Merlin, my magic is clawing at me. Something is definitely wrong.” The Druid returned, somehow stuttering even in his mind. 

“Arthur, alert Leon.” he’d turned quickly to his King and Arthur’s face fell sternly in a nod. 

It happened so sudden then. A sharp flash of silver caught Merlin's peripheral vision and he could sense the old, unnoticeable man, who was sitting next to Lord Llewellyn on the left table had sprung to his feet, launching a weapon through the air, aiming directly for Arthur’s heart. 

Arthur was half way through his sentence to Leon when he saw it too. Merlin moved in slow motion as he brought his body to stand, lashing his arm straight out. It was far too familiar to one of Merlin's first nights in the castle. Saving Arthur from the Sorcerer and having Uther repay him by subjecting him to be Arthur’s servant. He would have laughed at the differences of the times. 

The dagger continued to fly and as Merlin’s eyes sparked molten the silver blade froze, pointing directly at the Sorcerer’s hand, millimetres away from the skin.

The room plunged into silence.

“Guards.” Merlin had called out and Leon was already on his feet, followed by Percival, and Lancelot who’d rushed over from where Gwen was seated a few seats down from Merlin. Gwaine tried to stand but Merlin used his free hand to push him back down into his chair. The old man needed to be arrested and put in the dungeons, not flirted with and puked over. 

“Merlin?” Somehow Merlin’s eyes remained gold as the dagger stayed hovering in the air and Arthur had noticed. “Merlin, are you alright?” Worry laced the King’s tone, but it wasn’t for himself.

Merlin plucked the dagger from the air, his cold fingers wrapping around the woven hilt. He ran a finger up the edge of the blade and warm liquid collected on his pale skin. Gold dissipated back to blue, though his eyes were angry now, full of rage

“Poisoned, Sire.” Merlin clutched the poisoned end of the blade carefully in his hands, Arthur grabbed the hilt, though neither made any effort to move after that.

A commotion started in the corner where Leon had the old man on his knees. He was thrashing in the Knights grasp.

“You can’t do this to me. I am a Lord’s assistant. I did nothing, you can’t prove it.” 

“Sir Percival, I give my permission for you to shut him up.” Percival nodded then, pulled back his fist and knocked the man straight in the head, sending him flying into Elyan’s chest. His body went quickly limp.

“You can’t do that, he is my prisoner, King Arthur. I request that the man be admitted to my custody at once. He is my assistant. I will find the appropriate punishment and deal with it in due course.” Lord Llewellyn's greying hair was neatly trimmed on his head but his black tunic was covered in stains and crumbs. The four Knights managed to haul the old man towards the door. Merlin noticed Mordred staring at him carefully from across the room but his attention was quickly taken by Lancelot accidentally kicking him in the shin; even the Druid’s muttered swears couldn’t make Merlin smile.

“Lord Llewellyn I’m afraid I cannot allow that-” 

“Sire, it is not your right to deal with my workers. I am entitled to punish my own-”

Merlin finally let go of the blade, Arthur remained still.

“You, Lord Llewellyn, are entitled to shut your mouth.” A small gasp travelled around the room, “A member of your household just made an attempt on the King’s life, that means, by all accounts Lord Llewellyn, it is our business to deal with as we see fit. You’re lucky I don’t drag you down to the dungeon myself on suspicion of treason.”

Llewellyn gaped like a fish, mouth hanging open widely in shock, Merlin almost walked over and slammed it shut for him.

“Are you really going to let this man speak to me like that, King Arthur? He needs to be knocked down and put in his place-”

“Make a suggestion like that again and I will order Merlin to throw you into the dungeon myself. You are in Camelot, Lord Llewellyn, your assistant will not be returned to you. This feast is over.” Arthur slammed his chair backwards, striding from his place at the table. Merlin and Llewellyn locked eyes and the hatred that spilled over from the Lord made Merlin’s lip quirk upwards. 

Arthur was half way towards the door before he turned and beckoned Merlin to follow. Gwaine’s laugh filled the still silent room as Merlin sent him a warning glance. 

“ He’s secured in the dungeons, Merlin.” Mordred spoke quietly to him, the voice echoing in the back of his mind. 

“Thank you Mordred. Make sure there’s a strong patrol of rotation and then rest that wounded leg of yours.”

“Didn’t think you saw that.” Merlin chuckled to himself as Mordred's voice faded away in his mind.

As Merlin followed his King through the halls they both remained silent. Arthur slammed the door to his chambers open, Merlin followed him inside. 

Arthur stopped, hunched himself over on the dining table and heaved out a breath. 

“Bloody hell, that was not how I was expecting tonight to go.” Arthur laughed out, his mood switching unexpectedly. 

“You’re laughing.” The King flipped himself over, sitting on the edge of the table with his legs hanging over the side

“Yes, and?”

“It’s weird.”

“Merlin.”

“I mean, you just nearly got stabbed in the heart with a poisoned dagger and you’re laughing?”

“Well I’m not dead am I?” Merlin couldn’t disagree with that.

The Warlock turned around, double checking that the door was bolted shut, then he moved to the windows, giving a quick stare outside then pulled the fabric completely shut. 

“Anything?” The King asked and despite his gentle tone Merlin could sense his worry.

“Nothing, even my magic has gone quiet.” 

“Good… that’s good.” Arthur stood slowly, picking at the skin around his thumb. “Thank you,for uh- saving my life, again.” Arthur breathed out. Merlin flicked his wrist and the fire in the wall crackled to life. 

“It’s my job, Sire.” Merlin stared at the flame. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” His blue eyes moved to meet Arthurs.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for your efforts, Merlin.”

“I know.” They stared at each other then, eyes locking as they both studied  the other. Arthur’s eyes travelled down Merlin’s body, taking in his fluffy dark hair and the way his new Sorcerer robes, deep blue with a golden trim, fit him perfectly, made him look like a Warlock, like the God he was.  He wanted Merlin to stay, not sure how he’d cope if the man walked out of his door tonight and abandoned him in his cold room, alone. He needed him.

Merlin let out an awkward cough as the deafening silence hung in the room. 

“I should-”

“Don’t go. Stay here tonight. Please?”

Never once had Merlin heard the King so soft, so timid. Like the walls he’d been forced to build around his father, the vulnerability he’d bricked up and forgotten about had all come crashing to pieces. His light blue eyes pleaded with Merlin and the Warlock was all but ready to collapse as the adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins at the feast fizzled out. 

He gave a short nod, a small smile played on his lips. 

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Arthur had relaxed then, smiling back at the Sorcerer and they started to undress for the night, Arthur battled through his wardrobe, tossing his Warlock an old red tunic for him to sleep in. 

Merlin settled himself into the King’s bed, the one he swore he’d never get to sleep in. The one he’d made every day for five years. 

Arthur climbed in on the left side, making sure that Merlin had his share of the quilt. 

Merlin flicked his wrist again gently and the orange glow from the candles burned out, leaving the room in darkness as Merlin's eyes faded down. 

“You know, I’ve never quite gotten used to the colour your eyes go when you whisper those spells of yours.” 

“Why?” Merlin whispered, the soft material underneath him felt like clouds.

“I’m not sure. But even when they shine in that magnificent gold, when they slowly dissolve back into your normal blue eyes and they catch the candle light or they mimic the dark clouds that fly overhead on our hunts, I always find them beautiful.”

Merlin's heart fluttered, maybe Arthur had more wine than Merlin had seen him drink, maybe Merlin had missed the dagger and it stabbed him in the hand, maybe this was the crazed hallucination of a dying man. Maybe Arthur’s heart was fluttering in the same ridiculous way his was. 

“Oh,” Merlin had breathed out then, his voice light, heart hopeful. 

“Good night, Warlock.” 

Merlin smiled gently to himself in the darkness, the smell of the smoking candle wicks filled his nose. 

“Goodnight, My King.”

4

Merlin gasped for air in the small clearing somewhere deep in the southern forests. His breath clouded in front of his face in the autumn chill. The dead leaves from the surrounding trees littered the forest floor, Merlin's boots were covered in mud, his robes had a tear across the left shoulder. His ears rang incessantly.

His hard eyes stared at the now smouldering patch of thin grass. The once green blades now a smokey black. 

Merlin shifted on his feet, still steadying his breathing. He turned to Arthur, standing behind the Warlock he was also fixated on the patch that Merlin had summoned a stark bolt of lighting to only moments before, sword clutched in his hand. 

“Arthur? Are you alright?” Merlin could barely hear his voice in his own ears and as Arthur’s blank stare met Merlin’s eyes he realised that the King’s ears were probably also pulsating from the proximity of the lighting strike. A few strands of Arthur’s hair stood up straight on his head. 

Merlin stepped nearer, stumbling on the large sticks around his feet. He huffed out another large breath and staggered closer. Arthur’s small attempt to close in on the Warlock was disappointing, his knees buckled beneath him and Merlin used the last of his strength to lurch forward, engulfing the King before he could hit the floor.

“Arthur-” Merlin lowered them to the ground, the pair collapsing in a heap of bleeding limbs and crunching leaves. 

“Shit- Sire,” the ringing in Merlin’s ears died down to a low hum, his head pounded. 

“Merlin-” The king gasped out and the dark haired man caught sight of the large gash running up Arthur’s left thigh. 

“Arthur, your leg.” The Warlock mumbled trying to untangle himself from his King. “I need to clean it, heal it, we can make camp here for a while.” Merlin groaned out leaving the King sat ungracefully on the floor as he regained his footing. 

“I’ll be two minutes Arthur?” The King swung his hand up, gripping Merlin’s like his life depended on it.

“Don’t leave me, please-”

“I need to get firewood or you’ll freeze, I won't leave, I’ll be just over there. I promise” Merlin pointed in the direction of the trees. Arthur followed his gesture and said through gritted teeth,

“Okay, just be quick.” Arthur yelled out in pain as he gripped over the wound, the pressure making his head spin

. 

“I’ll be as quick as I can.” The sorcerer delved into the surrounding tree line, hunting along the floor for small pieces of kindling. He gathered the sticks, as many as he could and made his way back towards Arthur. 

“I’m back, see I told you I wouldn’t be long.” Merlin puffed out a solemn smile that died quickly on his lips. Arthur’s face was pale and sweat gathered on his forehead as the hands on his leg was drenched in crimson.. 

Merlin quickly organised a small fire pit, shaky hands toppling the wood together. Breathing out a spell, the fire slowly burned to life, smoke puffing away into the air. 

“C’mon Sire, let's get you close to the warmth.” 

Merlin linked his arm around Arthur’s back, hauling the blonde's other arm around his neck to get him off the ground. He again lowered them both back to the floor next to the fire. 

“Let me see your leg, Arthur.”

The King remained unnaturally still, hands still wrapped tightly around his leg, face ashen whilst  dancing flames flickered in his blue eyes. 

“Arthur, please. Let me help you.”

The blonde shook himself out of whatever stupor he’d sunk into at that moment, mumbling out a small ‘sorry’ as he moved his hands away from the gash, groaning out in pain at the release of his grip. 

“He really got you good.”

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

Merlin’s hands stilled for a second, hovering above Arthur’s split trousers as red dampened the fabric. The blonde shivered, gritting his teeth as his leg shook.

“Do what?” 

Arthur sucked in a breath before he responded.

“Summon lighting… I knew you were powerful just, not that powerful. And seeing it up close-”

Merlin let his hands explore the wound, tentatively trying to avoid causing Arthur any more pain. 

“Would you have preferred me do it some other way?” There was no malice behind his voice, no mocking. It was genuine. Arthur’s eyes remained on the fire.

“No, no I just wasn't expecting you to, you know.” Arthur gestured at the sky with his bruising hand. “Summon something so grand, so substantial. It was… Godly.”

Merlin chuckled softly, that smile from earlier returned and this time it stayed a little longer. 

“Technically I am a God, Arthur. Or so the Druid’s believe me to be.”

Arthur expelled a small sigh, letting his eyes fall from the flames to Merlin’s studious face as he used a ripped piece of his robes to brush the muck away from the wound. 

“My Emrys.” 

Merlin’s head raised then, mouth ever so slightly open as their eyes met. Merlin could feel his heart in his chest as they held each other's gazes. Arthur’s trembling hand shifted upwards, unsure fingers danced over the skin on Merlin’s cheek before Arthur warmly cupped his Warlocks face. The King’s blue eyes round as he let his eyes rake over Merlin’s reddening skin. In his own trance the Warlock let his tender hands fall slightly, tapping the edge of Arthur’s injury and the King released a sharp wince, his hand retreating to grab at the floor.

“Shit- Sorry.” 

“Never were good with healing magic were you.” Arthur snickered and Merlin shot him an annoyed glance. 

“I wasn’t using magic. I could just leave you here in the woods to bleed out if you’re going to be a prat.” 

Arthur chuckled softly, his gaze meeting Merlin’s once again. Merlin brushed his hand over the wound once more, the skin gently melted together leaving a dark pink scar over the side of Arthur’s thigh. Merlin wasn’t good at healing magic but it would hold until he could get Arthur back to Camelot. Merlin let his eyes travel back up to meet Arthur’s

“You wouldn’t, I’m your King.”

“Mhm, My King.”

5

“Arthur- please, we have to keep moving, you’re hurt.” Merlin heaved the sagging body through the dense forest, the sun had set hours ago and the cold was starting to seep into Merlin’s bones. 

“Stop Merlin, we should- we should set up a camp, rest.” Arthur slurred out beside him.

“If we stop we’ll both die in this forest.” 

“Ugh,” Arthur stumbled, dragging Merlin around with him. Merlin should never have let it get this bad but they’d been ambushed on their way back to Camelot, the horses bolted from their camp and even Merlin couldn’t take thirty bandits down in a split second. His magic should have sensed it but in his eased state alone with the King it hadn’t made a sound. 

“You know Merlin, as much as I mock you it is nice to spend some time alone with you.” 

Merlin morphed his face into disgust. 

“You’re being nice to me, you’re never nice to me, what do you want?”

“I was joking, Merlin, in fact I hate you and brought you out here to feed you to the wolves.”

“The wolves would appreciate me more than you do.” 

“The wolves would tear you to shreds and skip on their way to their next meal without thinking twice about it, Merlin.” 

“At least they’d have the decency to think.” 

“Oi-”

Merlin chuckled, whispering a spell into the dying flames of the makeshift fire pit, the orange glow grew in the light of the sinking sun. Merlin was sitting on a fallen tree they’d built the fire by, legs tucked lowly into his chest as he rested his elbows on his thighs. The glint of gold in his robes catching the flame.

Arthur made his way over, choosing to sit on the floor whilst resting his back against the tree, stretching his legs out in front of him. Arthur sighed to himself, complacent. 

“I do mean it though, Merlin. It is nice to get away from the city for a bit. With you.”

Merlin smiled, swearing the red in Arthur’s cheeks was from the heat of the fire and not the comment he’d made. Such a small sentence, such greater meaning. 

“I agree, even if I’m spending my time with a massive clotpole.” 

Arthur spun around, a wide grin on his face as he made calls of ‘treason’ and ‘you speak of your king with that tone?” 

The pair swatted each other away, laughing as the last tendrils of evening sun flooded through the canopy of leaves above them. The spring air warm. 

They’d continued bickering for what felt like hours, yelling at each other and laughing. Threats and giggles spilling around the fire and as the sun finally sunk beneath the horizon their tranquillity was shattered as the bandits pounced. 

Now they stumbled away, through the woods. If Merlin kept up the pace they could make it to Camelot as the sun rose even without the horses. 

“ Mordred help-” Merlin had tried to call out but in his state it had fallen short. Being the world's most powerful Sorcerer is easier when you don’t have an infected stab wound in your shoulder. 

Arthur was still struggling through the woodland, his leg, the same leg Merlin had healed in the woods only two months ago had been gashed again, down past his knee into his calf. The knuckles on his left hand bruised purple, a gash across his eyebrow from a hard hit and Merlin wasn’t sure if ribs were meant to make that noise but the rattle they gave off wasn’t entirely settling. Arthur’s eyes were dazed and his body grew heavier by the minute. 

Merlin was sure he looked just as bad. He could taste the metal on his lips from where one of the bandits had punched him square in the mouth, splitting the skin. A slash under his right eye poured blood and warm liquid trickled down his neck from a slice to his head, the growing stain on his shoulder throbbed agonisingly and his knee had bent at a peculiar angle in the scuffle before he’d managed to send every last one of the bastards flying in all directions. 

“Come on Arthur, work with me here, we have to keep moving.” 

He tried calling out to Mordred, screaming in his mind hoping the druid would wake and hear his calls but in the darkness his foot snagged something in the ground and the pair went tumbling hard. 

“Fuck- Arthur.” he called, hands grasping around the dirt, he couldn’t feel the blood being drawn by the thorns he’d landed on as the agony in his shoulder roared on. The tiny barbs scratched away at his face and palms. “Arthur-” 

A groan sounded to his left “Merlin…” 

The Warlock crawled over, his hands stretching to grab hold of any part of Arthur, relief flooding him as he came into contact with the King’s tunic. 

“It’s alright, I got you.” He breathed out heavily “I’m sorry-” He tried his best to haul the blonde up again. Both releasing their own groans of pain as they settled around each other. 

“Come on, Arthur.” 

“Merlin- You don’t have to, leave me here.” 

“Shut up,” Merlin grumbled as he pulled Arthur along. “You’re hurt I’m not leaving my King to die in the middle of the woods.” He hefted Arthur around his shoulder again, his limp weight slipping from his grasp.

“Merlin, you’re hurt too-”

“No!”

“Stubborn-”

“Agh!” Merlin yelled out, his arms aching under the pressure, his legs begging to give out but the Warlock pushed on. Every step felt like another stab to the shoulder, a harsh kick to the knee. Every sound in the forest sent his head flying in that direction, harsh eyes flickering around the darkness for any sign that the noise could be dangerous. He’d let them get attacked at the campfire, he’d let Arthur get hurt. He had to get him home. He would get his King home.

~~~

The sun broke over the horizon and Merlin could see the spire of the tallest tower of the castle and it took every single ounce of his self discipline not to collapse onto the floor then and there. 

Sweat beaded on his forehead and blood from more than his own wounds soaked his robes. 

“Come on, Arthur, we're so close.” 

The King was too dripping in sweat, his face was white and his eyes remained dazed. “Merlin, Merlin-” He slurred out, footting slipping as they entered a small clearing in the trees. 

“Just past here Arthur, just- just a few more minutes, hold on for me, Arthur.” Tears began to well in Merlin’s eyes, his head spinning around looking deeper into the forest for threats. “You’re doing so well, Arthur, just a little longer.” 

“Merlin-” 

“I’m right here Arthur, I’ve got you.” They reached the end of the clearing, Merlin pushed his way past the last few trees and the pair crumpled to the gravel on the path into Camelot. 

“Ar- Arthur, Come on, we’re not- we're not safe yet.” Realistically, Merlin knew they were in no more danger from hidden threats but in his own delirious state they were not safe until his Kings wounds had been cleaned, stitched and Gaius had given Arthur the ‘all clear.’

A voice sounded from further up the path. 

“Merlin?” 

Merlin’s eyes widened and his head flew up to locate the danger. 

“Merlin! Arthur!” 

“Stop- Stop where you are.” Merlin flung a poised hand out in front of him, magic bubbling at his fingertips.

A confused look etched its way into Leon's features as five figures trailed up behind him. 

“Merlin, what's going on?” A younger voice spoke, laced with concern.

“Shut up- I swear I’ll do it.” Tears streamed down Merlin's face as he hauled Arthur’s shocked body into his lap, wrapping a protective arm across his chest as he kept his hand outstretched. 

Lancelot stepped forward, his hands up in surrender. 

“Merlin, we need to get you to Gaius, you’re hurt.” 

“No one touches him!” The Warlock yelled out. 

“We don't want to hurt you, Merlin,” the taller blonde spoke, Percival's eyes wide with concern. 

“Merlin, can you tell me what happened?” Lancelot tried his luck, stepping another inch forward but the movement startled Merlin and he screamed out again. 

“Move another inch and I’ll throw you so hard the whole of the Kingdom will hear your spine snap.” Merlin didn’t know what had come over him, these people were his friends, his family. But his instincts were demanding he protect Arthur, so that was what he would do. 

Gwaine stepped forward now. His face was sure of his word like he knew exactly what to say.

“Merlin, listen to me, look at me.” Merlin cast his crazed eyes up to the man. “You’re safe, you’re in Camelot. Arthur is safe, and if we don't get him to Gaius soon, he will die and looking at that wound on your shoulder you’ll soon follow him.” 

“It doesn't matter about me. He needs to be okay.” Merlin sobbed out, his head spinning as his threatening hand faltered and drooped slightly. 

“Merls? You’ve got to let us help Arthur, you can go with him, you can sit with him and take care of him, but you’ve got to let us help him.” Merlin stilled staring straight into Gwaine’s brown eyes, he hesitated before he let his arm fall completely and sobs ripped out of his throat. 

Gwaine, Lancelot and Elyan stepped forward slowly, crouching low to be close to Merlin’s level. Strong hands pulled the King off of Merlin's legs, shouldering him as they ran towards the castle, Elyan sprinting ahead to alert the Court Physician. Arthur’s blonde hair disappearing into the Court yard made Merlin feel like he was going to vomit.

Cries continued to pour from Merlin, tears tracking down his cheeks like rain. Mordred held out a kind hand and he accepted it, pulling himself to his feet, Leon and Percival eyed him carefully. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, Emrys.” Mordred whispered as Merlin’s cries shuddered to a stop, the four began an incredibly slow walk up the path.

Merlin’s eyes swam in his skull and every single inch of his body bellowed at him to just stop, to give in. The blood stain on his shoulder had grown significantly and the cut under his eye pulsed horrifically, the cut, covered by his dark hair, was pounding. His vision swam and his balance shook as Leon placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. 

“Merlin?” 

“My head-” he let himself go, knees finally giving in.

“Merlin!”

The sorcerer heard the cries of his name and felt the muscular arms trap him in a warming embrace but his mind pulled him inwards and darkness took over.

~~~

“What the Fuck-” Merlin jolted awake on soft linen, smooth sheets. The smell of roasted meat filled the air. 

“Such kind words, Merlin.” 

“Arthur?”

The King’s stern face glared at him, he was occupying one of the dining table chairs, sitting next to Merlin on the King's bed. 

“Why am I in your chambers?” Arthur kept his mouth shut. Merlin raised a confused eyebrow. 

“Arthur-”

“How stupid can you be?” 

“Excuse me-”

“You carried me. Across nineteen miles of woodland. Whilst you yourself were actively dying.” 

Merlin pulled his body up, pushing the quilt that covered his tired legs down he pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them loosely.

“I didn’t realise it was that far.” Arthur rose to his feet, pacing.

“How in the God's names did you even manage that, Merlin?” 

“We stumbled most of the way, it’s not like we walked it.” Merlin’s voice was small.

“This is not the time for jokes Merlin, you could have died.” 

“But we didn’t.”

“I’m not talking about myself, Merlin. I am talking about you. You should have listened to me when I told you to leave me-”

“And where would that have gotten us? We’re both alive. We’re both okay, Arthur.” 

“But you weren’t. You weren’t okay Merlin. You’ve been asleep for eight days. When we got back I was out for five hours. I asked where you were, Gaius wouldn’t tell me but he looked towards your room so I got up and checked. You were dying, Merlin. Your shoulder was infected and the wound on your head was-” Arthur sucked in a breath, a lone tear fell from his eye, his voice sank to a whisper. “It was bad, Merlin. I thought I was going to lose you.” Another tear tumbled down.

The Warlock stared at him with wide eyes. Arthur huffed out an exasperated sigh and dropped down to sit on the side of bed next to Merlin’s feet. Arthur dropped his head into his hands, dragging them down his face. The Warlock tried to ignore how Arthur’s face twinged as his ribs jolted from the force of sitting too quickly.

“I’m not sorry, Arthur. I would do it again in a heartbeat. You know that.”

“I know, doesn’t mean I like listening to Leon’s report of you threatening to break Lancelot's spine because you thought he was going to hurt me.” 

“Yeah, well carrying a giant oaf through freezing cold forests in the middle of the night can do that to a person.” Merlin laughed gently, tilting his head to try and see Arthur’s hidden face. 

Arthur lifted his head, letting his fingers press against his mouth as he twisted his head to gaze at Merlin. Merlin sent him a small smile. 

“Leon said you looked enraged. Like you were possessed, said he’d never seen you like that before. Were you really that scared for me?”

Merlin shrugged. “I don't know why but I thought they wanted to hurt you. I was so weak on the way back that my magic couldn’t pick anything up and every time I heard a sound I thought It was something else coming to try and finish us off.” he picked at his thumb. “I knew where we were, I knew who they were, I just couldn't bear to let you out of my sight, out of my reach.” 

Arthur stared at him before straightening his back, running his hands up and down his thighs. 

“How’s your leg?” Merlin questioned, wanting the subject moved away from the newest act of treason he’d committed.

“It’s fine, Gaius gave me a medicine to soothe the pain whilst it heals, how's your shoulder?” Arthur pointed quickly to Merlin's arm. The dark haired boy pulled the hem of his tunic over, revealing the stitches in his pale skin, Arthur sucked in a sharp breath and Merlin pressed his lips into a thin line, slowly moving his shoulder. 

“Can’t really feel it, that’s odd.” Merlin looked up to Arthur’s face again which now had a small smile dancing across it. “What about this, looks painful,” Merlin brushed his fingers lightly over the shrinking scab on Arthur’s eyebrow, gentle fingers tracing the tanned skin around it as Merlin’s face moved closer. 

“It’s uh- yeah, it’s good.”

“Good,” 

They locked eyes again, so close that Arthur could see the light splattering of freckles across Merlin’s nose.

Arthur brought his warm, calloused hand to Merlin’s cheek, thumbing the pale skin. Blue eyes darting over his Sorcerer's face. Merlin’s own hand came up to hold Arthur’s arm, his own eyes flickering between Arthur’s pools of blue and his King's soft lips. 

Arthur moved forward slightly, bumping their heads together, noses barely meeting. 

“My Warlock.” 

“My King.” 

The words barely whispered.

Arthur titled his head the rest of the way, pressing a chaste kiss to Merlin’s chapped lips. He pulled back, eyes closed. Merlin’s breath hitched in his throat and Arthur smiled lightly to himself, pulling his Warlock's face back up to kiss him again. He’d never known what addiction felt like but God’s if this wasn't it. Merlin moaned gently against his lips and his grip on his King's arm tightened and his free hand moved his to cup Arthur’s nape, long fingers playing with the strands of blonde. 

He’d only had this for a few minutes and if anyone tried to take it from him he would tear the world apart with his bare hands. 

Arthur’s strong hands held Merlin’s face and for the first time since he’d woken in the physicians chambers he felt at ease, he felt like he’d been lifted off his feet, he felt safe with his Warlock. He was home again.

Then Arthur felt warm on his cheek, and a bead of water dripped down onto his lap. 

“Merlin, what’s wrong?” 

Droplets fell from his Sorcerer's eyes, his lids still screwed shut. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” he whispered out, vulnerability spilling from his mouth as he held Arthur’s head in his hand.

“Merlin, you saved my life. You always save my life. Hey, look at me.” Arthur lightly shook Merlin’s head as his tears continued to fall. “Look at me Merlin, everyday, every single day, you save my life in one way or another. From calling me a pratt that day in the town all those years ago to dragging my royal arse nineteen miles across the Kingdom, Merlin, you are a wonder. You are magnificent. My Emrys.”

Merlin’s bleary eyes stared into his and a smile, that beautiful smile, tinkered on his lips. Merlin moved his hand from the back of Arthur's neck, placing it on the hand on his own face, holding it in place.

“My King.”

+1

“Llamrei, calm down girl, we’re nearly there.” Arthur’s mare had been playing up all morning, vigorously shaking her mane, front hooves smacking the floor at any chance she got, braying loudly and making a fuss whenever Arthur shifted his weight the wrong way. 

“I don’t think she likes you anymore, Sire. Maybe Merlin charmed your horse too.” 

“Shut up, Gwaine.” The brown haired man chuckled. The eight of them had decided to go out on a day trip, scour around the forests, find a spot and attempt to hunt, though with Merlin trailing in the back it wouldn't be much success. A rare day off for the King, his Knights and his Court Sorcerer. 

The sun was high in the sky as summer began to bloom, the sound of bees came and went and Arthur could hear Merlin chuckle to himself from the front as he spoke kindly of the butterfly that had landed gracefully on his horse's ear. 

Arthur was focusing on the path, trying to remember his way towards the waterfall he’d located a few weeks ago on a journey to a bordering village. He’d thought about how lovely a place it was and how Merlin’s eyes would light up at the sight of the wild life surrounding it. He remembered seeing a particularly pretty blue flower that reminded him of Merlin’s eyes, he’d stared at the petals for as long as he could be one of his knights pulled him from his thoughts to venture onwards. 

“Are we nearly there, Princess?”

“God’s, Gwaine, you’re like an impatient infant.” The King yelled behind him.

“Hey don’t compare me to Mordred, that's not very nice.”

“Oi-”

“If anything, Gwaine, he's talking about himself.” 

“Merlin, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I’ll be on your side, Arthur, when you stop kicking me in your sleep.”

“I do no such thing.”

“Tell that to the bruises on my leg-”

“Ugh, can you two stop with your lovers spat please, not all of us can be happy and in love.” Elyan chirped in, eyes rolling in his head. Lancelot gave a small cough into his fist.

“Alright, God’s, Lancelot, we all know you’re doing Elyans sister you don’t have to scream about 

It.” Gwaine belted out and Merlin pulled a similar face of disgust to Elyan as Gwaine laughed on. 

“Do you have to be so vulgar, Gwaine?”

“You’re one to talk Arthur, we all hear the noises coming from your chambers after dark.”

“Gwaine-” 

“I will have you thrown in the dungeons for treason, Gwaine, watch your mouth.”  

The Knight's eyes went wide with mockery as he released a taunting `ohhhhh’ and laughed to Percival next to him, the blonde looked genuinely scared for his friend but Arthur turned his head out of view and smiled proudly to himself. If Merlin was up front with him he’d hit him. That made him laugh.

“Back to my original question, are we nearly there yet?” 

“If it will make you shut up, yes, we’re about a quarter of an hour away.”

“Oh thank the Goddess herself, my arse is killing me.” Gwaine’s voice melted away into the background as a dark brown horse trotted up beside the King. 

“I saw that smirk.”

Arthur barked out another laugh, shaking his head as Merlin struggled to hide his smile. The group continued onwards, the Knights arguing behind them, Leon ran a stressed hand through his hair before another comment from Gwaine made him joke on air.

~~~

They made it to the waterfall and the look on Merlin’s face as the group broke through the circle of trees that confined the spectacle was worth every moment of Gwaine’s complaining. 

His deep blue eyes lit up as the smile on his lips grew. Arthur watched Merlin’s gaze travel around the small area, spray from the waterfall casting a tiny rainbow over the pool at the bottom, rocks surrounded the edge and the water was so clear you can see the bottom, a small stream carried the water away to the east. 

“It’s beautiful Arthur.” Merlin sighed out, he leaned over to his King and connected their lips, cupping his face slightly before pulling away and flashing another one of his breathtaking smiles. 

Arthur was just about to lean in to press another quick kiss to his lips when Gwaine shoved Merlin from behind and the Warlock went flying into the glassy water, robes and all. Gwaine and Mordred followed him in, jumping around the splash Merlin’s body had created. Droplets of water dampened Arthur’s white tunic. 

Then the King felt his neck whipping backwards and a force between his shoulder blades sent him stumbling down the small bank, landing hard on top of a surfacing Gwaine, nearly drowning the man as he toppled headfirst into the pond. 

“Leon- A warning next time would be nice.” Arthur swiped his hand down his face, removing the cold water from his eyes. Percival’s blonde hair erupted from the water, the Knight's soaked tunic clung to his body. Leon pointed an accusing finger. 

“Blame him.”

They spent hours by that waterfall, jumping from the rocks in the cliff face, trying to drown each other. Merlin and Mordred had even teamed up to create small tidal waves over the Knights, Mordred used a tendril of water to drag Lancelot into the pool after he’d spent twenty minutes laughing at the noise Elyan made once he’d tripped him up, sending him face first into Percival in the water. 

Gradually they’d left the water, hanging their tunics in the hot sun to dry. Lancelot used his red cape as a blanket and Gwaine leaned himself up against a tall tree trunk near the horses. He’d faced the sun with his eyes shut and slowly sipped from his flask, he looked, for once, truly at peace.

Merlin trudged up from the water, walking past Arthur who’d copied Lancelot's idea of a cape blanket. Arthur creaked one eye open as his Warlock stripped his shirt off revealing his lean muscles, he then walked over to a draping tree branch and hung the tunic and sleeveless overcoat on the branch to dripdry. Then he settled next to Arthur on his cape and drifted quickly to sleep, Arthur had smiled to himself as Merlin sunk into his side, his wet hair scattering over Arthur’s chest. His day was seemingly perfect, he’d nodded off himself for a few hours, a strong arm around Merlin’s back as the pair napped peacefully in the sun. 

He’d awoken to find the sky a beautiful shade of gold as the sun slowly lowered itself towards the canopy of the trees. He’d shaken Merlin awake gently, kissing the man's forehead as Merlin stirred. 

“Hello.” Arthur smiled.

“Why are you interrupting my nap, my love?’

“Because the sun is setting and it’s a two hour ride back to the castle, we should go. You can nap as much as you want when we arrive home.” 

Merlin protested, a groan escaping his throat. But he pried his eyes open and met Arthurs, he smiled softly to his King and kissed his cheek, then stood up and offered the blonde a hand, hauling him up from the floor. 

Merlin walked over to their tunics still hung on the tree branch, placing his strong hands on the fabric. Arthur saw his eyes flash gold quickly and Merlin picked up the now completely dried shirt, throwing it over his head before tossing his overcoat on top. 

Arthur gathered the Knights and as the sky morphed into various shades of orange and pink the Knights, the King and his Sorcerer rode towards home. 

~~~

Arthur had forgotten how quickly things could go wrong when you were the King, especially when you were travelling through the forest with seven people wearing Camelot red, the eighth wearing mage blue. 

The whistle of a crossbow bolt whirled through the air behind Arthur’s head, interrupting the peacefulness that had befallen them on their way back. 

Orders flew from Arthur’s mouth as the swords they’d stored on their horses were pulled from their scabbards, glints of metal flickering in the setting sun. The horses galloped forward, a direction Arthur didn’t take lightly but none of them wore armour on this trip and if they could out run their attackers with no fight it was a battle he was willing to abandon for the sake of his men.

Another whistle far too close to his head sounded and Arthur ducked low on his horse. More trilling came from beside him as their attackers somehow, even on horses, had them surrounded. They continued moving south, hurtling down the path and the noises from the sides died to nothing, Arthur was almost prepared to claim a successful escape but as he opened his mouth a shadowy figure stepped onto the path in front of them and by a force he couldn’t see, Arthur was thrown from his horse.

He hit the ground hard, landing awkwardly on the wrist holding his sword but he heard no cracks, no pops, only shouts of his name, then another yell as a thud crashed beside him and he looked up to see Elyans dark skin and cream tunic smacking against the dirt. 

“Sire, are you alright?” he gasped out through his pain.

“Fine, Elyan. You?”

“Good, Sire.”

“Good” They pushed themselves to their feet and saw that Lancelot had been cast aside behind the horses, Leon was opposite Arthur, crouched over Percival who’s ankle looked to have bent a way it most definitely shouldn’t have. Gwaine was on his stomach under one of the horses.

Only Mordred remained on his horse, Merlin stood defiantly in front of the stallions. His hands clenched tightly in fists by his side. 

Arthur’s vision swan from the impact with the floor but he could hear the exchange of words between the Sorcerers. 

“Emrys, you are strong, but when I want something I take it no matter how many bodies I have to leave littering the ground. Let’s make this easy. Surrender. It will save us both the effort.”

“We will not surrender to the likes of you.” Arthur attempted to move his feet, lurching forward as his legs refused to budge, not by his own choice

“I’m not sure I asked you Pendragon, I was speaking to this Warlock of yours.”

“Merlin-”

The dark haired man ignored him, Arthur turned his attention back to the figure that threw him into the path then he flickered back to his sorcerer. 

“Merlin?” his eyes shone like fire.

“Stay there, Arthur,”

“No- you said we wouldn’t do this-”

“Shut it, Pendragon” The old man shouted, keeping his eyes latched on Merlin’s stance. 

Long black hair that was streaked by plumes of white framed his face, dark eyes stuck out like buttons and the charms he wore around his thick neck were enough to draw sweat to Arthur’s brow.

“There will be no surrender here. If a fight is what you seek then I shall give it to you.” Merlin’s voice was stern, concentrated like he calculated every word, every tone he’d used. 

“Emrys, I do not have time for a fight, surrender and I will make your death a painless one.”

Arthur could see Lancelot slowly limping his way over to Arthur and Elyan. Mordred had stayed high on his horse, eyes scanning the woods for any threats he might find. Gwaine had snuck over to Leon who stayed crouched next to Percival, his wide eyes trained on the man in their way. Why weren’t they stuck? Merlin had promised they would stop leaving eachother out of dangerous situations, that they would fight side by side no matter what, now his Sorcerer had his legs glued to the floor and the King was forced to stand on the side lines. For once, he would not be embarrassed to admit that fear overwhelmed him.

“I’ll surrender when you kill me, Arryn.”

Arthur’s heart sank. Something flashed across the man's eyes. How Merlin knew his name was beyond Arthur but now that Merlin had revealed that he knew who the man was his crusty lip quirked and he almost seemed happy. 

“A fight is what you want, Emrys? Then a fight you shall have.”  

The man launched his hands forward with a spell falling fast from his mouth. Merlin’s eyes shone their magnificent gold as his body remained still, fire erupted in the dry woodland, spurting forward but Arryn squashed it in seconds, sending a lash of blue out towards Arthur’s Warlock. 

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled out as Merlin raised his hands in defence, squandering the spell before it even got halfway, another spurt of fire appeared, though Arthur hadn’t seen Merlin conjure it. 

Arryn’s eyes flashed upwards towards Mordred, who gripped the reins of his horse as she reared upwards in fear, his eyes melted back to blue. 

“I said nothing about helping your poor Warlock here, Mordred.” Arryn raised his left hand above his head, eyes flashing gold and Mordred’s eyes rolled up in his head as his body went slack and he toppled from the horse, landing harshly on his side. 

Arthur, forgetting his predicament, made a move to get to Mordred but Arryn pointed at him and was about to speak before Merlin’s magic blasted his hand back. 

“This is between you and me Arryn, leave them out of it.” 

“Of course, Emrys, shall we continue.” Out of nowhere Arryn seemed to grow more powerful, lashing brilliant sharp colours towards Merlin, one of the tendrils fell short but made a connection to Merlin's cheek and red dripped down his face. Arthur struggled again but the magic around his ankles was unrelenting.

Lancelot had crawled his way over to the Druid, cradling Mordred in his arms, covering him from the rebound of magic. Arthur glanced quickly at Leon and Percival, the older knight had his cloak sheltering Percivals body as sparks of magic soared through the air.

Merlin fought back ferociously, his magic raging relentlessly onwards and Arryn stumbled back slightly, losing his footing, he slipped down to one knee, holding his hands crossed in front of his face as Merlin’s magic rained down on him. 

“You are nothing but a nuisance Arryn, I've beaten you before but this time I will be smart enough to smile down at you as-” Merlin gasped out, his eyes losing focus as a spurt of red escaped his back, ripping through his stomach. Merlin’s eyes pulsed, the gold fading slowly as Merlin’s mouth hung agape. Arthur couldn’t hear the roar of his own voice as Merlin fell to his knees, collapsing sideways with a huff. 

Arthur burst forward, the spell around his feet dissipating as Arryn rose from his pathetic position on the floor. Dark figures Arthur hadn’t seen before scattered from the trees lining the path, circling around Arryn. Arthur stood over Merlin's body, legs either side of him as he held his sword high.

“No one touches him!” Arthur scowled. Eyes darting between every single face he could make out, he settled on Arryns cold eyes. He would fight each and every one of those scabby bastards that had hidden themselves during the fight, he would put Arryn on his knees and take hacks at his neck with a dull blade till it rolled.

“Your mighty Emrys has fallen, Arthur Pendragon.” Arryn smiled. “Camelot wont last long without him. Neither will you.” The older man swung his arm high, releasing a small leather pouch from his hand, slamming it hard onto the floor. An explosion of smoke and brilliant light had the Knight’s covering their faces. Arthur pulled his hand away from his eyes and the path looked untouched. Not a branch was out of place, no old sorcerer blocking their path, not even a set of footprints. The only thing on the trodden path that acknowledged they were there was the iron bolt that lay a few metres ahead of Arthur, red clung to its surface. 

“Merlin-” Arthur breathed out as his mind finally came back to him. 

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled this time, dropping quickly to his knees placing his hands on Merlin’s pale face, tapping his cheek lightly. 

“C’mon, Merlin, wake up. Leon!” 

“Leon, take Percival with you, ride ahead to Camelot, l- let Gaius know that we're coming.” 

“Yes, Sire.” 

“Come on you Idiot, you don't get to leave me behind, not now, not when we’ve come this far together.” 

Arthur tapped his cheek again and Merlin’s dark lashes fluttered open, his eyes dazed. 

“Arthur-” Red varnished his lips.

“I need to get you onto a horse, Merlin, we need to get you home.”

“Arthur-” Merlin gasped out again, reaching upwards to wrap his fist into the front of Arthur’s tunic.

“Merlin, don’t-”

“It’s okay, Arthur. It’s- "It's okay, I would do it again, we both know that.” 

“No- No, Merlin you don’t get to keep doing this, I’m taking you home. Elyan, help me.” 

“Arthur, just- just hold me,” 

“Merlin- no.” 

Elyan came up beside him with Llamreis leather reins in hand, 

“I’ll be two seconds, Merlin, keep your eyes open for me, okay?”

Arthur pulled himself away though his heart screamed at him, he hefted himself up onto his horse and Eylan passed Merlin up to him, he cradled the man tightly against his chest. 

“Gwaine, you’re with me, Elyan, get Mordred and Lancelot and follow behind me.” Eylan nodded as the King raced off down the path.

~~~

Red soaked through his tunic as Merlin’s eyes dropped. 

“I said keep them open sweetheart, we’re so close, we're so close.”

Merlin gargled, red specks flickering from between his lips. Four years ago Arthur would have swore it was the harsh slaps of air against his skin that were making him cry but as he looked down at Merlin cushioned into his chest, his eyes unseeing, the gash on his cheek dripping and the crimson spilling from between his perfect lips, he would have broken down in front of the whole of Camelot if it meant Merlin would survive. 

Two months ago he’d kissed him in his chambers, slow and sweet, perfect lips and small gasps. Now the small gasps Merlin let out every few seconds were full of agony and his perfect lips were stained red. They hadn’t had enough time together, they hadn't, Arthur hadn’t even proposed yet. 

“Fuck-” Arthur spat as Camelot came into view and Arthur could see he’d someone caught up to Leon and Percival who had just ridden through the draw bridge. 

“Merlin, look were-” Arthur glanced down and Merlin’s blue eyes were shut. “Shit- Merlin, love, look at me, open your eyes for me, sweetheart, please.” Arthur let tears fall from his eyes as his horse came to an abrupt stop in the courtyard. He swung himself off Llamrei with Merlin still tucked in his arms.

“Move!” Guards all around the courtyard froze and took a step back as Arthur’s booming voice echoed off the walls. The Guards standing in front of the small wooden door leading towards the physicians chambers jumped to the side and Arthur spun himself through. 

Gauis’ door came into view and past the blood rushing in his ears he could hear Leon and Gaius flying around inside. 

Arthur reached the brown door and kicked it open, carrying his Warlock through sideways, Arthur let a strangled noise escape his throat as Gauis turned to see the warlock, eyes closed and pale in the King’s arms. 

“My boy-”

~~~

Arthur had lowered Merlin down into the cot next to the fire. Gaius had taken over, Guinevere had rushed into the room, her auburn eyes furrowed with worry, she’d grabbed some bandages and a small vial from one of Gauis’ many glass bottles, Arthur would’ve wondered how long she’d spent down here with the old man but his eyes were fixated on the only bit of Merlin he could see. The Sorcerer's fluffy dark hair fell around his head, a few stands clung to his forehead as sweat formed on his paling skin. 

“Gaius-” A hand on his shoulder, Leon. The tall man held a strong hand on Arthur's shoulder, pressing his thumb into Arthurs back, Leon kept his gaze fixed on Gwen and Gaius. Arthur could’ve swore he saw Leon raise his hand to his eye and brush away a tear, he wouldn’t mention it. 

“Gaius, how is he?” 

“Arthur-” 

“No, Leon, I need to know how he is.”

“Let them work, it’s only been a few seconds.” 

A few seconds? It felt like hours without Merlin at his side, or at least a few minutes. Arthur wanted to argue, to use his authority to demand an answer but Leon’s consoling face was still overtaken by the wise look he always managed to carry with him. Arthur bit his tongue, turning his head back towards Gaius who was whispering hushed words to Gwen, her eyes were glossy with tears, her gentle hands stained red.

Arthur felt his whole world tilt on its axis, he couldn’t- he couldn't lose his Warlock, he had to tell him how much he loved him, see him smile again, see him laugh, carry him to bed and kiss his perfect lips goodnight. He had to bring the ring he’d been hiding in the bed panels out and place it on Merlin’s finger. He’d chosen the bed panels because Merlin’s wandering mind made him susceptible to noseying where it wasn't welcome, in his draws and in his wardrobe, just searching for something to give his itching hands a distraction, so the bed panels that Arthur had pried apart with a small dagger one night when Merlin was with Gaius seemed like the best idea unless Merlin decided he wanted to look for woodworm again. He’d slipped the midnight blue box into the headboard and hammered the piece of wood back in. He’d laughed as his mind thought of the wonders of his life, what he’d done as king, what he was going to do. He thought about what would happen if Uther could see him now, could see the man Merlin truly was all this time. He’d probably just keel over and die again. That almost made Arthur chuckle. Almost. 

He was pulled from his own mind as a scream ripped across the room and Merlin’s head flew back on the pillow. 

“Gaius, you’re hurting him!” Arthur strode forward towards Merlin’s head, even Leon refused to argue. 

“Sire, that would be the wound from the crossbow bolt that’s torn through his abdomen. Now I need your help, so stop your wittering.” Arthur snapped his mouth shut, unsurprised by Gaius’ lack of fear in telling him to be quiet. “Place your hands on his shoulders, speak to him, calm him down. I fear this is going to be painful.” 

“What are you going to do to him?” Arthur was seething with irrational anger, Gaius was only trying to help yet Arthur couldn’t bear to let him hurt his Warlock.

“I’ve given him pain relief but it isn't instantaneous and I need to stitch this before it becomes infected. But the bolt tore through something else and I need to stitch that first.” 

“Can’t you knock him out, give him a sleeping draught?” 

“I fear that if I do that it would be too easy for his mind to give in.” Gaius threaded a needle and glanced over to Leon, motioning for the Knight to hold Merlin’s legs down to stop him kicking. Gwen clutched Merlin’s hand, blood still coated her fingers and her beautiful features were panicked. Her long curly hair a mess atop her head. 

“I’m Sorry, Merlin” Gaius whispered, looking guiltily at the restrained body beneath him, Merlin was writhing in pain. 

Gaius plunged the needle into Merlin’s flesh and the room shook, magic danced on Merlin’s fingers and the pain overloaded him, a gut wrenching cry dragged from his throat, Arthur saw Leon turn his head to avert his eyes, a tear finally fell from his eyes. 

“Hey, Merlin, listen to me.” Arthur whispered over his shouts, “You’re safe, I know it hurts I know but it’s got to be done.” Arthur wasn’t entirely sure of his words, certain that there had to be some way to do this without Merlin suffering so much but Arthur glanced up to see Gaius clearing his eyes of tears and he felt a pang of guilt at his own thoughts. 

“Merlin, you’re doing so well, my love, so well. Just a little longer and then we can get you to bed and you can have that nap you moaned about earlier. I promise.” Arthur spoke so gently as Merlin attempted to arch himself away from the stinging pain but Arthur pushed his chest down, large hands splaying across cold skin. He could feel Merlin's magic fluttering in and out.

“Merlin, please, stay still for me, okay? You’re so close, love, it’s nearly over.” Arthur lied, Gaius was only half way through the first set of sutures, another was yet to come and as sweat beaded on Merlin’s forehead a sob wracked through Arthur’s chest. 

“I know, Merlin, please just-” Merlin cried out again, the grip he held on Gwen's hand looked painful though she didn’t seem to mind, Leon’s hands wrapped around Merlin’s ankles and Arthur could see a small bruise forming on his eye from where he’d had kicked free and booted Leon in the face. 

Merlin’s scream died suddenly in his throat, morphing into a low groan as his eyes flickered shut, opening again slowly only to flutter once more. 

“Hey, c’mon Warlock, keep your eyes open for me, look at me Merlin.” The man made a sorry attempt to lift his gaze, blue eyes glassy and red. “There you are, beautiful.” 

Merlin gritted his teeth as Gaius pushed the needle through. He tied up the last suture and rethreaded the needle, clamping bloody skin between his hands he started again. Merlin’s eyes began to roll. 

“Merlin, come on, look at me, you’re so close. When you’re done I’ll take you to my chambers and you can sleep there, I’ll bring you those tarts that you love so much and you can rest, Merlin. But not now, now you’ve got to keep your eyes open for me okay?” 

Merlin struggled, fighting against the darkness that was pulling him under and through his own agony he looked up at Arthur and smiled, lips twitching to fight a grimace. Then his eyes fluttered shut and his body went lax. 

“Gaius!” The man finished his last stitch and tied the threat tightly, then he pulled himself up to Merlin’s face and put his ear to his mouth. There was a horrific second of silence, then his worried eyes relaxed and Arthur wanted to scream to him. 

“His breathing is steadying out, Sire. I think the pain drove him under.”

Arthur puffed out short breaths as his eyes twitched back down to Merlin’s face and his Warlock looked at peace, at ease. Like the last hour of his life never happened. Arthur’s eyes welled with more tears. 

“Best to leave him here for now, You can stay with him if you like, Sire.” 

Arthur gave a small nod as new tears poured from his eyes. Leon stood from his place and shot Arthur a glance before he turned to Gwen and held his hand out to her, they walked from the room and Arthur heard the sob Gwen released as Lancelot's soft voice came into shot, Gwaine and Elyans hushed voices sounded too, disappearing just as quickly as the door rattled closed behind them. 

Realisation struck Arthur, his Knights had waited outside, probably hearing all of Merlin's harrowing screams and cries. They’d stood by the door and waited patiently, well, as patient as Gwaine could be. The poor man was probably pacing up and down the corridor, flinching everytime a noise erupted from within the room. He could imagine Mordred still drowsy from the spell, and Lancelot sitting on the floor, heads leaning back against the wall, Mordred's eyes glassy as he watched Gwaine pace, Lancelot’s squeezed shut. Elyan and Percival supporting each other. His family. His silly little group of runaways, drunkards, commoners and sorcerers. The one he’d created, etched over the traditions Uther had set in place and forged his own rules, his own brothers, Gwen, practically his sister, Gaius, a better father than his own ever was. And Merlin, a man he’d struggled not to fall for, fought hard not to, in fact, but his smile had drawn him in and the way Merlin loved so deeply and so obviously had dragged the King down by the scruff of his neck, not waiting for anyone. For years he’s longed for this and finally, he had made it home, he’d be branded a fool should he let that be taken from him now.

~~~

Arthur sat for hours by Merlin’s bed side. Hunched over on his chair, leg bouncing on the stone. The sun set long ago and the Gauis had lit the candles dotted around the room by hand, footsteps scuffing quietly on the floor. 

“I will leave you, Sire. Watch over him for me.” 

Arthur had not responded, just kept his tired eyes focused on Merlin’s now furrowed brow. Even in his painful sleep he looked ready to fight again, like he would stand up at any moment to hold Arthur back and take an iron bolt through the stomach a million more times before he let anything touch his King. 

Arthur felt betrayed, hurt… Merlin had stopped him. Forced his legs to stay in place whilst he hurled his beautiful magic through the forest towards a man trying to kill him. The coward hadn’t even used a fair shot to take Merlin down. He’d used a hidden soldier in the woods to hit him from behind and Arthur hadn’t even seen it coming. He couldn’t even give Merlin a warning shout, a hint, something that would have made him duck or dodge. Then his hurt melted away through his fingers and Arthur latched onto another feeling he’d found deep inside his heart. A raging sense of guilt, followed by pride. A few years ago Merlin would have run off to hide in some bushes and made vines grow from the floor. Now Merlin had become so confident in his own skin, his ability, his new role within Camelot that he would push his King aside and take the blows for him. Yes, the fight was intended for Merlin anyway, but Arthur would have shoved him aside to replace him if he was able to. 

“You stupid, self-sacrificing idiot, you should’ve let me help you, let me do something, I want to help you Merlin, you don’t have to do everything by yourself anymore.” Arthur whispered into his clenched fists, a warm tear collected on his knuckle. 

He was alone. The flickering orange candles were slowly melting away and Merlin was injured before him. Arthur wasn’t even sure he would wake up. He would ask Merlin to marry him, yes, but first he would chain him to the castle, confine him to a single room, never let him out of his sight again, just anything that could keep the clotpole from doing things that end with him in a cot wrapped in bandages. 

The gash on Merlin’s cheek was still an angry red but the blood was cleared away. Arthur was sure it would scar but that’s okay, he would just have another spot on Merlin’s face to worship when he woke up in the morning, when the council meetings were dragging on, when no one else was looking. He worshipped Merlin, he worshipped the very ground he walked on, because Merlin was a god, his god, and he would follow him into death with a smile on his face.

The door opened behind him, Gaius had come back to check on him, he presumed, but the voice that sounded behind him wasn't Gaius’. It was Leon’s. 

“Sire?”

“Leon.” 

“Do you want some company?” 

Arthur sighed, he just wanted to be left alone but he knew that another hour by himself and he’d be in a ball in the corner begging the god’s that, if they were taking Merlin, they were taking him too.

“Yes… No…” he sighed again. “Yes, please, Leon.”

Then a flurry of footsteps entered the room and the small thudding of wooden chair legs hitting the floor came from all around him. 

Leon had sat next to him on the right. 

Gwaine had gone around the top of the cot and sat by Merlin’s head on the opposite side.

Percival to his left.

Lancelot behind Merlin’s cushioned head.

Elyan sat quietly next to Percival.

Mordred chose to occupy the small stone steps that lead to Merlin’s old quarters. 

“What are you all doing here?” Arthur muttered, boring holes into Merlin’s hand which lay curled by his side. 

“We heard a brother was in pain, so we came to check up on him.” Gwaine said, his face pale in the candle light.

“Merlin’s fine, he’ll wake up soon.”

“We love Merlin, Arthur and we’re here to support him but Gwaine was talking about you. We saw what Merlin did, he had every right to do that because we all know you would have thrown yourself in front of something that a sword cannot deflect and gotten yourself killed. But that doesn’t mean you’re not in pain too.” Percival and his wise words. The soft giant.

“Leon told us what you had to do, how he got that big bruise on his face - couldn’t have been easy, Sire.” Elyan gestured across to the Knight. 

“You mean hold him down whilst he writhed in pain, whilst he screamed out in agony begging for it to end? Yeah, that was the pinnacle of fun.” Arthur mumbled, picking the skin around his 

thumb. 

Gwaine raised a timid hand to Merlin’s face.

“Don’t-” A tear fell from his eye. “Please don’t touch him… I don’t want him to get hurt again.” 

Gwaine slowly lifted his hand away, noticing how small the King looked in that moment, how the blood on his white tunic from the ride back was still there, how it was now a muddy brown and Arthur didn’t even look like he’d noticed. He passed the King a small smile, “Alright, Princess.” 

Arthur hadn’t heard Mordred stand up but he felt the Druids hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay, Mordred.” 

“Yes, Sire. It’s not easy to see him like this but he will pull through. Emrys is strong.” 

Arthur hesitated, reluctant to speak the words before his brain had managed to convince itself. “I know, I know he will Mordred.” Then Leon pulled his shoulder close and wrapped an arm around him. Then slowly his Knight’s engulfed him, enveloping him in a hug he’d never felt before, one of so much love and pain that it drew more tears from Arthur’s red eyes. 

 He grabbed onto someone’s arm,he didn't know who, the hug was too much of a tangle of limbs to tell. And he sobbed, unrelenting and unforgiving. 

~~~

The room was silent

The Knight’s had slowly dispersed leaving Arthur alone once again in the Physicians chambers. 

Arthur remained focused on Merlin. 

He thought of their time together, all their quests and Merlin stupid quips that hadn’t made him laugh at first but as time went on he found them weirdly hysterical. He’d bitten his cheek in many a meeting with his father to stop himself from giggling at the faces Merlin was pulling behind him. 

He felt his eyes start to droop shut, impossibly heavy. Then a groan arose from in front of him and he shot from his chair, eyes round. 

“Merlin?” 

The dark haired boy remained still except from the small jolting of his arms and legs. Arthur dropped to his knees crouching by the Sorcerer's head. 

“Fuck- Arthur.” He murmured out, shut eyes scrunching as he tried to shift. 

“Shh, don't move, you'll tear the stitches. You’re safe Merlin.” 

“Arthur-” Merlin’s voice sounded wet.

“What’s the matter my love?”

“I’m sorry- I’m- I’m so sorry.” Merlin whimpered, a small glimpse of blue snuck past his lids though it was quickly filled with tears. Merlin grabbed aimlessly for the King's tunic and Arthur gently secured his hand, wrapping his fingers around Merlin’s thumb, placing a small kiss to the knuckles. 

“Love, it’s okay, we’ll talk about this when you’re better.”

“No- Arthur, please I’m sorry.” Merlin lifted his head from the pillow, attempting to sit up.

“Merlin, stop, you'll hurt yourself, lay down sweetheart.” The King slowly pushed him back down with a hand to his chest which he then slowly snaked his way up to Merlin’s cheek, cupping Merlin’s face as he smiled down at him with tears in his eyes. 

“You’re alive, Merlin, you’re safe. That is all I care about right now.” His own words surprised him.

“I shouldn’t have- I promised-”

“Shhh, my Warlock. That doesn't matter right now.” 

Merlin gasped out through his tears. 

“What happened? I don't remember.”

Arthur swallowed dryly, Merlin deserved an explanation for his current state but he didn’t want to dig into his mind to retrieve the knowledge he’d spent the past seven hours trying to forget. 

“That bastard, Arryn. He had a soldier in the woods. With a crossbow. I think he took Mordred down to make you an open target. He had you shot from behind.” Arthur felt ill as he recounted what he saw. 

Merlin huffed out a mocking laugh, smiling as his grip on his King’s hand tightened. 

“That bastard,” the words were damp and Merlin struggled with the smile but it made Arthur laugh with him nonetheless. Merlin could be missing a leg with an arrow through his neck but he would still find an impossible way to draw a laugh from Arthur’s mouth. 

~~~

It took Merlin another day and most of the pain relief Gaius had in his draws for the man to get up from the cot in the small room in the corner of the castle. Arthur had gently lifted him to his feet, guiding him through the corridors to the courtyard outside. Arthur found a small spot of sun on the steps and sat Merlin there. The warlock sighed as warm beams hit his pale face and Arthur struggled not to smile as the man basked in the low summer sun.

Then as the light outside started to die they’d slowly made their way to Arthur’s chambers, Merlin opting to perch on the window sill, looking out at the stars instead of relaxing into the comfortable bed. Arthur sat on the covers on Merlin’s side nearest the window, raking his eyes over the dark haired boy's form.

“That smile, I missed it.” Arthur’s lips turned up sweetly as Merlin’s head swirled around.

“I was only out for a few hours, my lovely.”

“Yet, it felt like a lifetime.”

Merlin's smile fell.

“Arthur-”

“Please, don’t apologise. I know why you did what you did Merlin, Percival gave me some, uh, some insight. That was a fight I could not have won, no matter how hard I tried my sword would not have been the winning power.” 

Merlin stared at him, his brows furrowed in slightly and he nibbled lightly on his bottom lip. To Arthur, in that moment he looked more beautiful than anything in the world. 

“You underestimate yourself Arthur, but you’re right. Sometimes, when certain challenges arise. Steel is not the only commodity you can fall on. But you should not feel guilt for my actions in disabling your ability to help.” 

Arthur smiled at that. He’d wanted to rage at him, scream scandalous words about taking advantage of his magic to inhibit help, that his sacrifice was stupid and uncalled for and simply heartbreaking. But Arthur knew that Merlin was right. He couldn’t win every battle, he couldn’t always save the day, something he’d learnt over the years with Merlin at his side, watching the once lanky, useless servant turn into a strong, powerful Warlock in a position that granted him the power to do reckless things, to save people, including the King. Arthur had given him his full permission to do that when he granted him the title of Court Sorcerer, even if he hadn’t intended to. 

Merlin let his legs fall from the windows ledge, wincing quietly as he stood up and stepped slowly towards the King. 

“Arthur, I am sorry for making you feel helpless, I shouldn’t have done it that way. But I am not sorry for keeping you from danger. I’ve saved you from stupid situations to know when you’re about to jump into one. I cannot lose you to something that flows so freely in my veins. It would be a betrayal.”

Merlin ran his thumb across Arthur’s cheek, smiling down at him as the King’s blue eyes met him. 

“Merlin, I-” The King stood, “Give me a minute.” Arthur moved over to his desk on the other side of the room and opened the top draw, pulling the small red dagger. Then he moved to his side of the bed and began attacking the wood panel above his pillow.

“Arthur, what-” Merlin stopped as the wood pried away and he stuck his hand into the darkness, his fingers meeting the deep blue box, concealing it behind his palm. He left the panel open, throwing the dagger beside him as he clambered back off the bed and grabbed Merlin's hand, pulling him in front of the lit fire. 

He looked into Merlin’s eyes, those gorgeous magic eyes. He sucked in a sharp breath, a mix of nausea and excitement bellowed through his veins. Then he shifted the weight of the box in his hands and lowered to his knee. 

“Merlin. My Merlin. I rarely thought of- of marriage in a way such as this. I thought my father would find me some lovely noble woman from another Kingdom and force me to settle down with her. To rule with her. But that- that would have been my personal hell.” Arthur clenched Merlin’s hand. “I cannot say that from the moment we met I wanted this to be the way it ended up because when I first met you I wanted to piss you off, to prove myself to be above you because I was an arrogant, pompous dollophead, as I recall you saying.” Merlin chuckled at that, a silent tear fell down his cheek. “But over time I realised that no-one, no-one in this world makes me as happy as you do, you make me a better person, you make me want to be a better person and every day when you smile at me, or laugh with me, or kick me under the table during council meetings I fall even more in love with you. I realise that I cannot always protect you even though somehow you always find some obscure way of protecting me and that hurts, but I would feel so unbelievably better with you by my side for the rest of my life.” Arthur pulled in a short breath, Merlin smiled through his tears. “Merlin, my Warlock, my stupid, ridiculous, brilliant Warlock. Would you-” he pulled the box around from his back, popping the lid open. “Do me the honour of becoming my King.”

Merlin’s smile grew and his lips trembled, he knelt slowly down to Arthur’s height, letting his cold hands snake round to Arthur’s face, his neck, his nape. He kissed him, slowly and patiently like they had all the time in the world left together. Then he pulled away, resting their heads together.

“Arthur Pendragon, My King. You know you already proposed to me last year, that night by the campfire. When you gave me your mother sigil?”

Arthur chuckled 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that…”

Merlin joined him in laughter.

“My Arthur, I would blissfully serve by your side till the day I die.” Merlin kissed him again, deeper. Arthur could hear a low hum around the room,

“Is your magic buzzing?” 

“It really like you-”

Arthur kissed him again, pulling him closer in their spot in front of the fire,

“Wait-” Arthur pulled back and slipped the ring from the box, a silver band engraved with delicate designs hugged a river of gold and blue swirls and Merlin hummed as Arthur slipped it onto his finger. 

“Hmm, Merlin Pendragon, it has a nice ring to it, hey?” Merlin smiled into the kiss as Arthur pulled his face impossibly closer. 

“Merlin Pendragon, I serve to protect you, and I will do so with my dying breath.”