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Someone had hurt Merlin. Someone had hurt his Merlin. Arthur saw the evidence by accident. Merlin had fallen in a bog hole (and really who but Merlin would fall face down in a bog, normal people get one foot wet and back off). To wash off the slime Merlin stripped off under a waterfall, (and Arthur was not spying, not at all, he was simply ensuring that his clumsy manservant did not end up in a plunge pool). And that was when Arthur realised that Merlin had been hurt.
His back, chest, arms and thighs were covered with bruises. Black and purple they stood livid on the pale skin, some long and deep, some broad and shallow. And they were not alone. There were signs of yellowing bruises beneath the purple, showing that the abuse was ongoing.
Arthur was as livid as the bruises. Someone was hurting Merlin. Badly hurting. Merlin. Who wouldn’t hurt a fly (unless the fly was threatening Arthur – the Prince had noticed that the normally passive Merlin could become fierce in the face of a danger to Arthur). Arthur determined to get to the root of the matter.
That evening when Merlin had come to his chambers Arthur commanded Merlin to remove his tunic.
“Um, What?” was Merlin’s response.
“Tunic. Off” said Arthur
“Er, Why?”
“I am your Prince, you shouldn’t ask why”
“You told me to strip. I’m asking why” Merlin was backing away.
“I want to see your bruises”
“Again, why?”
Arthur became very serious. “Who hurt you, Merlin, Who did this?”
“Is this a joke? Are you going to use this to make a fool of me?” Merlin was very wary.
“Merlin!” Arthur said angrily “I want to know who hurt you”
“You know”
“IF I KNEW I WOULDN’T BE ASKING”.
“YOU DID”
There was silence.
Merlin continued in a quieter tone.
“Every day you take me out to the training field and beat the shit out of me. Did you think it wouldn’t mark? Did you think that peasants have tougher skins than nobles? Well sorry Sire, I bruise”
Arthur felt that the world had shifted. And not in a good way.
Merlin saw his stricken expression and backpedalled, “Look, I’m fine, I’m used to it, it’s not a problem”
That didn’t help.
Arthur did not sleep well that night.
The next day at training, having sent Merlin to clean up the mess he had deliberately left in his chambers, Arthur watched his knights prepare for training. First they put on a linen shift next to the skin, then a gambeson, thickly padded with wool, then their mail coats and armour. Arthur cursed himself. Merlin strapped on his armour directly over his thin tunic. Without padding the links of the chain mail and the edges of the plate would become weapons themselves. He should have seen. He should have noticed how he was hurting his Merlin. Yes his.
At the next training session Arthur presented Merlin with a full gambeson. Merlin looked at it warily.
“Why?” he asked
“No more bruises, Merlin, not from me”
And Merlin smiled, starting in his eyes and filling his whole body. And for the first time in many years, Arthur really felt he deserved to be a Prince.
The next time
Merlin had fainted. Not a manly passing out from a painful wound (Arthur was familiar with that) nor yet a maidenly swoon executed with modesty and maximum impact. This was a faint with total visibility and maximum embarrassment. Merlin had keeled over in the middle of a banquet, toppling into another servant carrying a full tureen of soup which in turn tipped into the lap of the envoy of the king of Merica who had jumped up in alarm, waving his arms about and hitting Uther’s nose, causing it to bleed. In the midst of the chaos Merlin was out cold.
“He’s yours. Deal with him” the King had said and Arthur tried to. Gaius was away, had been for a week but Gwen had followed the servants who had dragged the unconscious boy away and Arthur sought her advice.
“Well, Sire” she said, “with Gaius away, I wonder has he eaten this week”
“This WEEK? Is he really that stupid”
“It’s not stupid it’s being a servant” said Gwen patiently
“We do not starve our servants in Camelot, Guinevere” said Arthur sternly.
“No Sire, but..” she drew on her courage. “You really don’t know much about being a servant in Camelot do you?”
She continued.
“Servants’ meals are three times a day and we are not to get food from the kitchens at any other time. The first meal is six am...”
“Merlin is never up at that hour”
“Well, no I have never seen him then, but he does have late duties. The main meal is at eleven. I rarely see Merlin there, I believe he would be at training?” she looked at Arthur who nodded.
“Supper is at four, and though I sometimes see Merlin there he is often, well” she hesitated, then went on, “That’s usually the time he’s in the stocks” Merlin had been in the stocks a lot recently.
“So when does he eat?” Arthur felt his gut clenching
“That’s the thing. Gaius saves him gruel to have in the evening. That keeps him going. But Gaius is away so....”
Arthur hated gruel, calling it the food of a very bland devil. The thought of surviving on gruel alone gave him stomach ache. He thought of Merlin filching his breakfast sausages. He had considered it cheeky (and endearing) but was horrified to think that it may have been driven by hunger. He remembered a prank he and the knights had played on Merlin, hiding his food. He suddenly recalled the expression on Merlin’s face: not anger but resignation, that this was how life was. This thought gave him heart ache.
“Why wouldn’t he say something?”
“Merlin doesn’t complain”
“Merlin complains all the time!”
“Not about important things”
Arthur had to agree,
The first morning Merlin returned to duty, he complained bitterly about the weight of the breakfast tray he had carried up.
“Have you got the appetite of an elephant? The Kitchen said you ordered this lot” he moaned.
“Sit down Merlin,” said the Prince. “From today you will have breakfast with me and I will ensure you eat. But keep your hands off my plate”
Merlin grinned and then his grin turned into the smile that made Arthur feel like a Prince.
The third thing
“Wheew, Merlin what is that smell?” Arthur held his nose and waved his hand to waft away the odour.
“Um. That might be me” said Merlin
“Might?”
“Is”
“If it is not too much to ask, why are you serving me breakfast smelling like a midden?”
“Um I was in the stocks yesterday and a midden is pretty much what got thrown at me”
Arthur was not really listening, “You change before we set off hunting, that smell would drive off game and attract wolves – and I am not rescuing you from hungry wolves”
“Myothertunicsinthewash” Merlin mumbled.
Arthur was dismissive ; “Just change Merlin, and be outside ready to go in ten minutes, Really you are the worst servant, can’t even keep yourself tidy”
And so in twenty minutes (Merlin was never on time) the hunting party rode out. Arthur did not notice anything amiss with Merlin except that he seemed to get more silent as the hunt went on.
It was a good hunt and it was nearly dark when they headed back for Camelot. Frost was setting in and they had to take care with the horses footing. Of course it was Merlin’s horse who slipped. Merlin slid off and fell into a bush. Arthur waited for him to untangle himself but he didn’t. He just lay there shaking. Annoyed, Arthur dismounted and reached for Merlin’s hand then pulled back in alarm. Nothing living should be that cold.
He touched Merlin’s chest and found frost frost! Forming on his servant’s tunic. It was very wet and starting to freeze.
“What sort of an idiot goes out in January in a wet tunic” he thundered.
Through chattering teeth Merlin tried to say something but what came out sounded like “N’ dr”
Arthur ordered his men to build a fire and stripping off the offending tunic he moved Merlin close to it.
“We have to warm him up slowly” said Gwaine, “Body heat. I’ll take him”
“He’s my manservant I will take him” snapped Arthur. (Really, the cheek of the man)
“He’s my friend” said Gwaine as disrespectful as ever.
“Ddddon fffffi” murmured Merlin,
“Shut up Merlin” they said simultaneously.
Arthur took Merlin. He held him close, his chest to Merlin’s back, both wrapped in the Prince’s red cloak , as close to the fire as possible without getting scorched. Arthur rubbed vigorously at Merlin’s torso to get the circulation going and after about an hour he felt it was safe enough to continue their journey home, Merlin still in his arms on the way. Despite his worry, Arthur had never felt so peaceful.
After depositing a sleepy Merlin in the care of Gaius, Arthur went to find Guinevere, his portal into the world of servants. He wanted to check if it was normal for a servant to have only two sets of clothes.
“Well no” she said. “they would have their own clothes, plus two sets of work clothes when they start service, then a full new set every year on New Year’s Day. We are just starting on the King’s orders now” Since Morgana had left Gwen worked as a seamstress so she had new insight into the process.
Arthur began to feel the beginnings of a by now familiar I’ve-let-Merlin-down-again stomach ache.
“So new clothes have to be ordered then?”
“Uh huh”
“Every year?”
Arthur wondered if Merlin had known this. Had waited every New Year’s day for something that didn’t appear. His stomach ache got worse.
“Uh Huh”
“How long does it take?”
“Well, we should get anything ordered now ready by the New Year”
“What about two sets of clothes for next week?”
“Sire!”
“It’s for Merlin”
Gwen had heard on the servants’ grapevine about Merlin’s chilly arrival.
“Oh, well, if it’s for Merlin I might be able to have something in time” she said. (Was she that fond of Merlin? Arthur was glad he was liked, but ... *his* Merlin?)
“Something warm. In blue. It matches... ahem... and..”
Gwen looked at him quizzically as she showed him the reams of cloth available.
One week and two days later, (Gwen did her best but even the best could only work limited miracles) Arthur waited for Merlin to arrive in his chambers.
“Ah, Merlin” he said when the servant arrived carrying a bundle of candles. “Take off your tunic”
“Er? What?” Merlin sounded very wary “Sire? This is getting to be a habit. I am beginning to think you just want to see me naked” (Oh yes thought Arthur before mentally slapping himself)
“I want you to try on your new outfit” the Prince said pompously.
“My new what now?” Merlin sounded very puzzled
Arthur showed him. The new tunics, made of fine woollen cloth, smooth and warm, the linen undershirts and small clothes, the breeches made of fine worsted, strong but comfortable. There were even neckerchiefs, one with a tiny merlin stitched in the corner (Arthur did not know why he would have liked to see a Pendragon crest there but he appreciated Gwen’s effort)
Merlin’s eyes lit up like a child’s. “For me?” he said in wonder.
“Well, yes, Merlin. I can’t have you ruining a perfectly good day’s hunting with hypothermia again, can I”
Arthur wondered if that was too much but Merlin laughed . He laughed. And Arthur thought he liked the laugh almost as much as the smile. At first he missed that wonderful all encompassing smile, until he saw the small, secretive smile that Merlin gave every time his hand brushed over the soft wool fabric or slid down the smooth worsted (and Arthur tried so hard not to think of that). Added to that was the warm look Merlin gave Arthur when he thought the Prince was not looking (though Arthur was often looking). That warm look gave Arthur tingles in his toes (and elsewhere but Arthur tried very very hard not to focus on that)
The fourth time
Arthur just happened to be passing a window when he heard them. He knew their voices. Once he had known them well. Before Merlin they had been, well, not friends, because a Prince never had friends but they were people he had spent time with. He had been with them when Merlin had first shown up and challenged him. He hadn’t noticed drifting away from them. Life had simply got more serious. And to tell the truth, their petty cruelties repelled now that he had seen goodness.
But he listened.
“He’s out there again. We get a chance to show that arrogant prick that we can’t be ignored”
“Do you think he even notices?”
“He will when half the stable ends up on the lanky idiot today”
“He didn’t do anything the last time. And we dug up the castle midden. Which I did not enjoy. I think that Merlin doesn’t even tell him”
“Put a few stones into the horse shit and he won’t have to. Prince ‘I’m too good to talk to you’ Arthur will get the message” The speaker laughed as he spoke.
Merlin. They were talking about Merlin. His Merlin. He didn’t understand the context until he suddenly remembered something Merlin had said about a midden.
And the stocks.
They were planning to hurt Merlin in the stocks.
His Merlin.
Because he *was* his Merlin.
And to make it worse he had sent Merlin to the stocks that day. Arthur had been irritable and Merlin had dropped the shaving bowl and he had said “Stocks Merlin” just like that.
Between, long corridors and several flights of stairs (Really, castles should be built more logically so that going down and out did not involve going up two flights of stairs and into an entirely different wing) it took twelve minutes for Arthur to reach the stocks and Merlin was already dirty and , Gods, bleeding.
And smiling. But Arthur understood Merlin’s smiles by now and he knew this one was not real.
Moving quietly, (and as a hunter he could move very quietly indeed) Arthur was able to get right behind the two enthusiastic bullies as they gathered material for their next assault from the wheel barrows of stable muck they had brought to the square.
Carefully positioning his hands behind their heads Arthur deftly dunked both of them into the noisome mess, holding them down for a little longer than was kind. He pulled them up harshly, ignoring their gasping breaths.
“I believe you had a message for me” he said sharply. “You can take that I have received it. This is my reply” and he dunked them again. This time when he pulled them up he kicked over both barrows, spilling their contents over the cobbles.
“You will clean this up” Arthur said “By hand. And the next time you have a message for me, you deliver it in person, with a thrown gauntlet. I assure you I will meet you”
He then gave orders for Merlin to be released, telling his servant to go and wash up, not giving him a chance to speak. Arthur did not want to stop being angry just yet.
Arthur was still angry when he called Merlin to him later that day.
“From now on, Merlin, no matter what you do, no matter what I say you are not to report to the stocks”
“Um... Are you ordering me to ignore your orders” Merlin was hesitant.
“Yes. No, Yes” Arthur realised he was not as emphatic as he had planned.
“I don’t really fancy it” said Merlin “you hate me ignoring your orders”
“Merlin! You are always ignoring my orders!” cried Arthur
“Yes , and you hate it” said Merlin reasonably. “If I don’t go to the stocks when you send me you might get really angry and have me flogged or something”
NO! screamed Arthur’s mind, “Never hurt Merlin” It could happen admitted his reason “Shut up” said the Prince
“Yes, right, shutting up” said Merlin
“No not you” said Arthur distractedly, “Yes you, no , I mean would it help if I wrote it down?” Arthur reached for parchment and quill and wrote.
“I order Merlin to ignore any order of mine which would send him to the stocks”
And Merlin smiled.
“You mean it?” he asked, and his voice sounded different, lighter. “You really mean it”
This was a new Merlin smile. This smile lit up his face but included the warm look that made Arthur tingle. Arthur almost purred.
Smile the fifth
Merlin was popular. Arthur was happy that Merlin had friends, but really, did he have to spend so much of his time in the tavern? Every time he was late, or missing, the tavern was always where he had been. And yet he never looked drunk. Popular and could hold his drink. The tavern keeper must love him...
And Arthur was not jealous. Not at all. So when he saw Gawine beside Merlin, a proprietary hand on his shoulder, talking about going to the tavern it was not jealousy that made him send Merlin back to his chambers to work. He really did want the curtains changed and it really was imperative it was done now. Not jealous.
When Arthur went up to his chambers, Merlin was enveloped in curtains, there were curtain hooks all over the floor and the curtain pole was hanging at a very precarious angle.
“Um.” He said. “I kind of fell. Um. Not exactly fell, more sort of lurched and, well I had to grab on to something and... you know it would be much airier without curtains....”
Arthur sighed. Did everything he tried to do have to result in Merlin getting bruised? And he did rather like those curtains.
“Just untangle yourself and pay attention. I want to talk to you” he said.
Merlin paused. “You are talking to me” he said reasonably. “You always talk to me. Except when you shout..”
“Merlin! I want to talk to you seriously” said the exasperated Prince. Why did Merlin have to make the simplest thing into a drama?
“Oh” said Merlin. “ A serious talk. Should I take off my tunic how to save time?”
“Eek!” said Arthur, though he would deny it to his dying day. “What? Why? What?”
Merlin continued in the same reasonable tone. “It’s just that every time we have a serious talk I end up half undressed. So I thought I’d speed up the process”
Arthur was confused. “You want to take your tunic off?”
“Do you want me to take my tunic off?”
Silence
Arthur decided that the silence was going on for far too long. He harrumphed loudly and then spoke.
“I want to talk to you about drunken debauchery not tunics!” he said. Running over the sentence in his mind he realised that it may not have the impact he wanted.
Merlin backed away from him. “Drunken what?”
“Let’s start again” said Arthur wondering how even a simple conversation got tangled when Merlin was involved. And tried not to think of any kind of debauchery at all. Especially not with Merlin involved.
“I wish to talk to you about your behaviour with regard to the tavern” he said using what he hoped was a prince-like tone. “You spend far too much time there. Every time I look for you, you are in the tavern”
Merlin flushed and Arthur absolutely did not notice how the blush suited him.
“But I nev...Oh!... yes right then.... tavern bad. Yes. I get it ...”
Arthur ignored this and got to the real point.
“I saw Gwaine talking to you about going to the tavern with the Knights. You have to know that it is not seemly”
“Not what?”
“Not correct behaviour. They are knights of the realm. You are...”
“Just a servant” Merlin interrupted. His shoulders slumped. Arthur knew that look but had never seen it on Merlin. Where had he seen it? Then he knew. It was defeat. Merlin’s whole body screamed defeat. And that was not right. Merlin should not look like that. Arthur tried to think of something to say but his brain was not working and he was absolutely not listening to his body though that was very emphatic about what it wanted to do.
Merlin finished folding the curtains and moved to the door.
“If you have no other jobs for me, Sire, I will go to my room” he said quietly.
“Oryoucouldstayand playchesswithme”
Merlin turned smoothly and went to the table. “If you want me to stay, you only have to say” he said and Arthur revelled in the warmth of his voice.
And the back of Merlin’s head as set up the chessboard was as good as a smile for Arthur.
The next day, at training Gwaine came over to Merlin. “Change your mind last night? Thought the birthday boy was going to get drunk with us. Or did you get a better offer”
“Something like that” But the way the corners of Merlin's mouth turned up in a tiny smile and the expression in his eyes softened for a moment gave Arthur a feeling that was much deeper than tingles and made his heart catch in his chest.
Six
Merlin was unconscious on the floor of his chambers, gagged, his hands tied behind his back. Arthur sat in a chair and watched him.
It had been so easy to subdue him. Arthur had come in and found Merlin with eyes glowing gold. Instinct took over.
One blow and the sorcerer was down.
Then; bind his hands and mouth because sorcerers needed both for spells.
Now all he had to do was go to the door and call for guards and denounce the sorcerer. They would take him away and tomorrow there would be a trial and the next day a pyre and no one would ever mention the name of Merlin again. All he had to go was go to the door and call for guards.
Arthur sat.
And then Merlin started retching. And that was ridiculous because he had not hit him hard enough to give him concussion, but Merlin was choking behind the gag and Arthur found himself on the floor beside him, untying the gag. And this was even more ridiculous, the Crown Prince of Camelot kneeling on the floor holding the head of a sorcerer as he threw up on his floor. Merlin would have a right mess to clean up.
Only it wouldn’t be Merlin.
Oh.
Arthur pulled Merlin – no the sorcerer - into a kneeling position and returned to his chair.
“Sorry” said Merlin nodding at the mess
“For using magic?” Arthur tried to keep his voice level.
“No” said Merlin firmly, “You’re alive and you’re well and I am not a bit sorry about it”
Arthur wondered what his well being had to do with anything.
Merlin kept talking. “I knew, when I chose to stay that I would die for this but I am sorry it has to be you and I’m sorry that I’m a lot more scared than I thought. The flames terrify me.”
Arthur interrupted “They’re meant to. They’re meant to be a deterrent. Obviously they are not working.”
Merlin ignored him. “When I was younger I put my hand in the fire. Mum thought it was an accident but I wanted to know... I needed to understand what was ahead of me and now that it is here I’m bloody terrified. Arthur I know, I mean you’ve made it very clear that I’m just a servant and that we could never be friends but if I ever meant anything at all to you could you kill me now?. Um, please? Sire? Before they come? You have a dagger”
When tying the gag on the unconscious sorcerer Arthur had thought of the horror of Merlin pleading for his life. He had not considered the horror of Merlin pleading for his death.
“I haven’t called for them... yet”
“Oh” Merlin did not look hopeful. Just curious.
“What was your plan? What did you intend? Becoming my servant, was that to get close to the Crown?” Arthur tried to keep his voice steady.
“Um, it was your father? Remember? He gave me to you and I was too scared to say no and then there was the ... prophesy... that said I should be here and I didn’t even like you and then I did like you and then I... and so I stayed and I knew this would happen and please Arthur ? The dagger? Please?”
“Why did you even come to Camelot?” Arthur’s voice was broken
“I had to control it. My magic. I had it when I was born and my mum said I was moving stuff in my cradle...”
Arthur had a sudden vision of a toddler Merlin, still with the thick dark hair, bouncing rattles out of his cot. And he did not want to see Merlin cute and vulnerable and squashed the image.
“... and it was getting too hard to keep it in check and mum thought if I came here to... well if I came here I could learn...” Merlin’s voice changed. “And I have learned but ... please? Not the fire?”
Arthur realised he did not know the man who knelt before him. He felt a coldness sweep through him. This was not Merlin. Not his Merlin. This was a sorcerer. Evil.
Arthur went to the door and called for guards to take the sorcerer away. There was a trial and a pyre and he was left with the memories of his Merlin...
NO.
Just left with Memories? Only Memories? No.
But a sorcerer?
Evil.
The voices of his education said ‘Kill Him’.
Arthur was confused.
He hated being confused. It was un-Princelike. Merlin was confusing him. Get rid of Merlin.
But it was Merlin.
His Merlin.
Confusion.
He was afraid of the sorcerer.
Who was Merlin.
His Merlin.
Still his Merlin
Arthur went to the door...
Merlin called to him “Please? The dagger? Arthur?”
Arthur opened the door.
He ordered a passing servant to bring a bucket of warm water and some cloths to his room. He specified to leave them outside the door.
He turned, drawing the dagger.
Merlin smiled at him. This was a new smile, one that Arthur had never seen before and never wanted to see again. The smile said thank you and stay safe and be well and goodbye and there was something else in the smile, something infinitely sad and Arthur wanted to stop that smile. Merlin was still, his eyes fixed on the Prince.
“Thank you” he whispered
Arthur stepped behind him and Merlin moved his head back, baring his neck and closing his eyes.
Arthur cut the ties that bound Merlin’s hands.
Merlin fell forward, barely missing the mess on the floor “Wha... you didn’t, aren’t you going to... does that mean ...” his voice was filled with fear and he began to shake.
This was shock. Arthur was familiar with shock, he saw it all the time on the battlefield. Gaius said it was very important to keep the patient warm.
So he pulled Merlin into a suitably medicinal hug.
A voice somewhere around his neck murmured in a slightly smothered voice “Does this mean you’re not going to kill me in any way?”
“Why would I call for water if I was going to kill you?”
“Um, for the blood? I assumed it might be messy.” The voice was light, but Arthur, who was still medicinally hugging noticed the tension in the shoulders.
“No, I’m letting you go” he said, trying to be gentle
“You’re firing me? Again?” The tension was back. This was ridiculous, a second ago Merlin had been baring his neck for a knife and now he was complaining about being fired
“No Merlin I am letting you go”
“That’s the same as firing”
“Merlin! you are a sorcerer ! You cannot stay in Camelot. You must leave”
“But I’m your servant. I can’t leave” Merlin sounded querulous though still muffled. Arthur thought it was time to de-hug but somehow Merlin’s fingers were tangled in his shirt fronts. Arthur didn’t really mind.
“I can’t have a servant who uses magic” Arthur whispered. His voice caught in his throat.
“But you always have had a servant who uses magic. Except when you fired me. I have always had magic. And you never complained when your bath water stayed warm.”
“You used magic on my bath water?”
“And polishing your armour. And cleaning the stables. Honestly Arthur did you not wonder how one person could do so much work? You’re a Prince, you’re supposed to have a household working for you. Even with magic I couldn’t keep up”
Arthur recognised the justice of that. He had hated sharing his life with even one person (until Merlin). He could not bear more. He had never thought that his choice put more work on Merlin. Abruptly, and quite strangely he felt grateful to Merlin’s magic for the fact that he did not now have a stomach ache. Other than the one he already had. Damn.
“How could you think I would kill you?” Suddenly Arthur felt hurt.
Merlin pulled out of the hug (still medicinal Arthur told himself) and said “Being knocked unconscious and waking up gagged and bound made me a little worried.”
“That was just instinct. I mean, what was I meant to do? I walked in to my room to see my manservant with glowing eyes surrounded by dancing brooms and swooping dusters.”
“So you knocked me cold?”
“Merlin, you seem to be missing the point that you are a sorcerer...”
“M’a warlock”
“What?”
“Warlock not sorcerer. Gaius says there’s a difference”
“Gaius knows?” Arthur was very still.
Merlin looked at him, real fear in his eyes. Arthur did not like it. “I will not hurt Gaius” he said firmly.
Merlin gave him the warm look that made his toes tingle.
Merlin explained the difference between a warlock and a sorcerer but Arthur was thinking only of his tingling...toes.
And then; “Gaius! He swore to my father he would not use magic!” Arthur exclaimed.
“He hasn’t” Merlin said firmly.
“Could you swear? To me? Not to use magic?” Arthur looked into Merlin’s face.
Merlin hesitated.
“So no then” said Arthur. He tried not to feel hurt but he was.
Merlin answered softly. “I could try. I could give up using it for cleaning and warming... but then some monster would come and try to eat you and I would have to break it and you would hate me” His voice got even lower “evenmorethanyoualreadydo” he continued.
Arthur felt tingly that Merlin wanted to save him from monsters (not that it was needed, he was very capable of defending himself) and sad that Merlin thought he hated him and the combination caused him to move in for a non medicinal hug.
“I don’t hate you” he said to the tip of Merlin’s left ear. (It was a very distracting ear)
“So... does that mean that I’m not fired then?” Merlin queried.
“Maybe... No, it’s too dangerous to be here. You should go far away. Somewhere safe” Arthur felt proud of himself for saying this, so far from what he was feeling.
Merlin started mumbling again, the volume decreasing as he went on “Don’t want to be safe, wannabeherewithyou”
Arthur was not sure if he heard it so he did the Prince thing and ignored it, concentrating on the practical.
“Merlin, a few minutes ago you were bound, awaiting execution. That could be your future if you stay here”
“Are you going to kill me?” Merlin sounded stubborn
“No ...but”
“Do you want me dead?” Arthur hated the forlorn sound in Merlin’s voice, How could he ask that? Apart from the knocking out...and... apart from that he would never hurt Merlin.
“Merlin! No!”
“Well then, I won’t die. I am a warlock Arthur, if I wanted to, I could bring down the walls of this room ... probably... with a bit of thought...If you want me to live, I’ll fight”
Arthur had a brief vision of Camelot falling down around him but he suppressed it with the thought of a powerful Merlin. For some reason that made him as tingly as a smile.
Merlin stepped close again. “So definitely not fired then” he said cajolingly.
“Hm” said Arthur because suddenly there were Merlin’s lips on his, and though the kiss seemed to have far too many noses involved to be perfect Arthur thought it was wonderful.
Later he discovered a whole new range of Merlin smiles, ones which he was sure he would see again. As he lay, his head on the warlock-not-sorcerer’s chest, Arthur felt an arm wrap tightly around him as a sleepy voice murmured emphatically:
“My Prince, My Arthur”
And Arthur smiled.
.