When All This Disappears
It's been two months now since the druid attack on the castle and Arthur isn't missing his magic half as much as he thought he would.
Merlin is to thank for this. For the first few days he didn't use his magic at all –not even the briefest incantation as he went about his tasks by hand, just sitting with Arthur when his mood darkened. And he would ensure that Arthur was never bored, and wishing for his magic back, but instead out training nearly every day with his knights. It meant that they were apart more than normal but Arthur understood why Merlin was doing it, and was grateful.
Merlin re-introduced him to magic slowly and gently – when the warlock was massaging his shoulders after a particularly rough day with the knights, Arthur swore that he felt a warmth spreading out from his advisor's touch that eased his sore muscles more than usual, but when he turned to look, there was nothing to see. Arthur smiled anyway.
Whenever he returned from hunting or riding or visiting Morgana, his chambers would always be spotless despite the fact that Merlin would never have been able to do manually all the work in the spare time he had. And of course, when Arthur reminded Merlin that he was no longer his manservant, the warlock would just grin and say something idiotic, and Arthur would grimace and punch him in the arm.
When he was summoned to counsel with Uther and the messenger said that the King had specifically asked for Merlin not to come, Arthur spent the afternoon half-listening to his father make plans for the kingdom, finding himself wishing that he could just leave, but then his thoughts were interrupted as a rock crashed through the window. Whilst Uther was suitably distracted, the Prince slipped from the Hall and when he reached his chambers, it was to find Merlin fast asleep, curled on the end of his bed, whilst dinner lay spread across the table. He woke Merlin before he began to eat.
It was a month before Merlin started using his magic properly again, and by that point Arthur had come to terms with his own lack of it. He's back into his old routine now, and whilst he still feels a small pang of regret every now and then as he looks after at Merlin and sees his now permanently golden eyes, he doesn't make a fuss.
Besides, he still has Merlin, and that's what's important – nothing else matters.
**
Arthur is reading on his bed when he is disturbed by a horrific scraping noise coming from the opposite side of the room, and he looks up just as a bright light shears through the wall. Dust billows out of the stone as a large shape is traced and then it crumbles, a rough hole left in the wall. Merlin's head sticks through the gap and Arthur feels his own eyebrows shoot up.
"Decorating?" he asks, can hear the sarcasm is his voice, and Merlin steps gingerly over the rocks, waving a hand at them almost absently. They vanish with another explosion of dust and the warlock inhales some of it, coughing violently.
"Thought I'd make a door between our chambers," he explains after a few seconds, once his lungs are clear, and Arthur smirks.
"Because it's such a trek to go out of your door, walk the few steps to mine, and come in," he shoots back, amused, and Merlin shrugs widely.
"I spend most of my time here; it makes sense to have a door. I thought it might be a good idea."
"You didn't think to check first, before ripping a hole in the wall?"
"I didn't think you'd mind."
And of course Arthur doesn't, and he knows that Merlin knows this. So he shakes his head with a smile and returns to his book as Merlin creates a door out of a scrap of wood sitting beside the fireplace. There's a loud thud and the warlock curses.
"I just want to see how you explain this to my father, that's all," he says slyly, glancing back up as his advisor scowls at him.
"There's no reason for him to find out – he rarely comes in here, and he's never going to be found in my chambers, is he? This just makes life easier for all of us."
"Adjoining chambers?"
"I would like to point out that if you want me to continue to clean your rooms, make your bed, and prepare you dinner that you ought to take a less derisive tone with me."
"You know that I don't expect all that from you," Arthur replies quietly, setting his book down on the covers, and Merlin shrugs slightly. He turns to him, all traces of amusement gone from his face.
"I know. But I'm going to keep doing it anyway – I told you, I'm not going anywhere."
"So you've said."
And the atmosphere's become a little too heavy for Arthur's liking, so he clears his throat and pulls himself into a sitting position on his bed, patting the area beside him, and Merlin wanders over.
"I found this in the archives," he explains as his advisor clambers up to sit beside him, picking the book up again. "It's about the use of magic in battle, and I thought that perhaps you might find it interesting," he says, holding out the book, then frowns at Merlin's expression.
"Um, can it wait about half an hour?" he asks, wincing, and Arthur tilts his head to the side in question. "Only I promised Gaius that I'd go and find him some hemlock this afternoon, and if I start reading this, I'll never get it done."
"Hemlock?" Arthur asks, his frown deepening as Merlin slides off the bed. "What's he using it for? Isn't it poisonous?"
"Well, it kind of depends," Merlin replies, raising his voice as he returns to his own chambers. "It can also be used as a sedative – Gaius is working on stronger sleeping draughts for Morgana, to help ease her nightmares."
Arthur's frown becomes something almost close to a pout as Merlin re-enters the room, shrugging on his jacket, and he quickly wipes his face blank. It's an old jacket of his own – it's worn, but Merlin seems to like it. The warlock crosses back over to the bed and Arthur glares up at him balefully.
"You'd better not be long. I'd sort of planned going through this with you," he says morosely, and Merlin laughs.
"I just need to get the hemlock, and then I'll be right back. I'm glad you've reminded me, he would have given me hell if I'd forgotten."
"You'd better be back," Arthur hears himself mutter, then wonders why he's behaving like such a child as Merlin reaches out and ruffles his hair.
"I won't be longer than an hour. I promise."
**
An hour and a half later, Arthur is up at the top of one of the towers, scanning the town below for his advisor, muttering to himself, as the light begins to fade and the book lies forgotten in the bedroom behind him. He's been waiting now for a while and though he shouldn't be worried – Merlin can more than take care of himself – his advisor has never gone back on his word before.
He finally spots him weaving through the crowds at a jog, and his worries fade only to be replaced with annoyance as Merlin turns to talk to a young woman who's been following him – but then Arthur realises that she's been following him in the sense that they're deep in conversation and probably have been for a while now.
It's a serving girl, her hair bound up tightly, and she looks familiar but he can't place her. She's smiling coyly, her hand on his arm as they make their way up to the castle, and something tightens in Arthur's chest. Who does this girl think she is, talking to the advisor as though he were a close friend? He leans forward as they pass behind a house and when they come back into his sights, their arms are linked.
His hands are pressed into the cold stone, fingers twitching as he watches Merlin laugh with this attractive serving girl. And when the girl reaches up and brushes Merlin's hair from his forehead there's a resounding boom and the heavens open, the rain that's been holding for several days abruptly descending.
Arthur thinks that he hears the girl shriek from his post – they're close to the castle now – and Merlin just grins and makes to jog the rest of the short distance, and that's when the Prince feels a sense of foreboding ripple through himself. He thinks briefly that it might belong to Merlin before remembering that they're not linked any more, and he peers down at the two people.
The girl's gripping his arm now, quite tightly, and Merlin's grin is slowly fading. He clearly wants to get up and out of the cold but she's not letting him, and her voice is growing harsh though he can't hear the words, he knows that something's wrong. It's a gut feeling, and it scares him more than it should.
He's about to call down when the girl steps closer and wraps her arms around Merlin.
There's a whirl of rain and a flash of light, and then they're gone.
Arthur stares at the spot where they were standing for a few minutes until he feels the rain again, and then he slowly makes his way down from the tower.
The stone is glowing where his hands were pressed.
A sudden disaster could roll from the sea
The earth could just open forget you and me