A/N- There was no way I couldn't write something after the angst that was last week's episode.

SPOILERS for 'Lancelot du Lac' (episode 409)

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur

Throne Steps

Merlin couldn't sleep. Just when it had been starting to get better; just when he thought he could begin to shut his eyes at night again, even without the heat of Arthur at his side, everything had fallen apart. Again.

You see, when Arthur had taken Merlin aside that day, and explained that the proposal was going ahead, he had held Merlin for hours on end, because he had to marry Guinevere. It was a big thing... a massive thing, for a King to wed a maid, but it was possibly nothing compared with a King marrying his manservant.

Arthur needed a Queen. After Merlin, Gwen would be the only one to keep him happy. Merlin had wondered out loud, with his cheek pressed against Arthur's chest, whether Arthur cared that this would break Merlin. Whether he cared that Merlin didn't have anyone else; if he couldn't have Arthur, there was no backup solution, no second soul mate.

Of course, he had been reprimanded for that, there had been harsh words and soft touches, as Arthur assured him that he did care, and he would do everything in his power to keep Merlin happy.

Merlin doubted that Arthur's 'power' extended that far.

But, still, Merlin had done it. He had pushed through, somehow, coming to terms with it all, even as it made him feel nauseous, to think of Gwen in Arthur's bed, in the space Merlin had once so frequently occupied. Even as he forced himself to avoid Arthur's gaze, just to stop that feeling of something beneath his skin, tearing to get free.

He had, more or less, succeeded. In recent days, he had managed to get some of his rest back, falling asleep at around midnight.

But, not tonight. Not now the wedding had been called off, cancelled with such awful repercussions that they left Merlin breathless.

Arthur was unattached once more, but at such a horrific price it didn't bare thinking about. Merlin stifled a sob, pressing his fist against his lips, and then swung his legs out of bed, stumbling slightly in the darkness, before creeping from his room, and out of the physician's quarters altogether.

He found Arthur, as he knew he would, in the hall where he ought to have been getting married that day. It was pitch black, apart from the light of the moon, shining through the windows, the glow of it playing gently on the King's face, as he sat on the steps leading up to the thrones, fingers steepled before him, shoulders hunched.

He didn't look up as Merlin approached, and then took a seat beside him, their knees bumping together. Neither of them spoke, as Merlin adopted the same position as the man he loved, leaning forwards, hands in front of his face, long legs bent so he could rest his elbows on his knees.

The sat like that for a while, both content for the time being with breathing, and being breathed in. And then, Merlin loosened, an arm snaking out around Arthur's waist, his head falling to rest on the King's shoulder.

"Merlin-" Arthur began, in a whisper,

"I know," Merlin cut across him, softly, "I don't... I don't want... I just need to hold you."

Arthur sighed, but it wasn't an exasperated sound, just a tired one, as he leaned into the slighter man beside him, closing his eyes and letting everything else run from his mind, if for just a moment. If just to pretend Merlin was entirely his.

A single tear worked its way from beneath Merlin's eyelid, and if Arthur noticed he didn't say anything.

Merlin only wanted to tell him, desperately, that his entirety belonged to Arthur, and no one else.