There are indeed times when Merlin wonders what exactly he is doing with his life. Following around a clotpole of a prince is indeed not his idea of destiny. Often he has to curb his enthusiam to turn Arthur into a pig or some other kind of delectable animal when he particularly tests the patience of the young warlock. Merlin has lost count of the times when he has laid in bed at night and imagined giving Arthur donkey ears or perhaps even turning him into a table which would then be tossed into the fire after the prince has been particularly trying, demanding he polish that damn armour yet again or mucks the floor when he tramples all over Merlin's clean floors in muddy boots. Yet, no matter how trying Arthur might be, and he is annoying enough to test the patience of the gods themselves, Merlin cannot quite bring himself to leave. It is a matter the young warlock has never dared to fully comprehend, for fear of not liking the answers.
For example now, Merlin should have been wise enough not to accompany Arthur on his latest expedition and yet somehow, here he is, squatting alongside the prince in a room, waiting for the Dorocha, the spirits of the dead, to find them. The young men are both afraid, even though neither of them dares to voice it. Merlin can still recall the unusual confession made by Arthur before they set out, how he is probably more afraid then Merlin.
The eyes of Merlin seek out the azure eyes of Arthur and something in the way the prince looks at him makes the warlock uneasy. In order to deflect the tension, he asks the first question that comes into his head. "If we die tonight, is there something you will regret, sire?"
Arthur suddenly puts down the torch in his hands and reaches out to cup the cheek of the other young man. Suddenly, Merlin has lost the power for rational thought. Normally, he would bring onto the table a funny quibble or two to minimize the tension, but tonight he cannot think of any.
Agonizingly slowly, the prince reaches out and carefully brushes his own lips against those of Merlin. He pulls back to observe the reaction of his servant and if Merlin had his eyes open he might see the reservations and fear written in the lines of his handsome face. When Merlin finally opens his eyes, the amazement can be plainly read in his dark eyes when he looks upon his prince.
"I would regret never having kissed you, so I am doing it now." Merlin does not respond, instead he sits on his hind legs, and cocks his head to one side, as if trying to ascertain whether this is some kind of bet between Arthur and one of his knights, or if he is hallucinating and mistaking Merlin for Gwen. "I never would have thought you would be lost for words, Merlin."
When Merlin perceives, however, how the prince looks at him, the body servant is quick to react. He reaches out, quick as lightning, and throws himself on top of Arthur, straddling him. The prince knows he has been conquered when a pair of feet hold his down and powerful hands are holding his wrists above his head.
Before Arthur has a chance to react, Merlin leans down and kisses him again. Whereas the first kiss was tentative and exploring, this one is passionate and filled with intensity. Merlin's long, tapering fingers quickly find their way into the blond hair of the prince and despite himself, Arthur moans into the mouth of the other man.
The duo are rudely interrupted, however, when the knights of Camelot come barging in, fearful of the life of their prince when they should have been more concerned about his virtue. Merlin, however, is quick and agile enough to retreat from Arthur when they burst in and they are therefore sitting at a polite distance from each other when the others come barging in.
Arthur can barely fathom the aftermath when Merlin runs in front of him to save him from the Dorocha, and he has to make the choice between saving the life of the man he loves and the country he hopes to govern one day. In the end, he decides on sending Merlin with Lancelot in order to be saved. Luckily enough, Lancelot meets kindhearted spirits who assist him and by the next morning, the young warlock has recovered and is eager to join his prince on his quest once more.
During their journey, neither Lancelot nor Merlin discusses the true reason for the presence of the young warlock beside the young prince. Both of them can recognise within the other the seeds of unrequited love sown within their hearts that have begun to blossom. They do discuss, however, the relationship between Lancelot and Gwen, with the former stating that he is aware that Arthur is the better man and therefore worthy of the prize. Indeed, Merlin can relate to this statement; when he recognised the love Gwen had for Arthur, he stepped aside and never considered revealing his true feelings for the blond-haired brat, believing that the prince should have the toughest, wisest and fairest woman in the land. A dress would hardly look becoming on Merlin and let's face it, what is a king without a queen?
When Lancelot and Merlin catch up with the others, the young warlock receives an embrace from Gawain. He waits breathlessly for the reaction of Arthur, but while the azure eyes of the prince light up with a momentary glow, he is soon wearing the mask of passivity and feels it to be enough to extend his hand in congratulations. Merlin is confused and surprised by the actions of Arthur, but cannot call him on them, however, while they are trying to defeat the Dorocha. To repair the veil between the worlds which had been torn, a blood sacrifice must be made and in the end it is neither Merlin or Arthur who dies; it is Lancelot who forfeits his life, not for his lord or Camelot, instead it is for Gwen and the promise he made to her to keep Arthur safe.
Merlin is deep in thought during their sad return to Camelot and it tears him apart to witness the grief of Gwen, knowing as he does that perhaps he might be in her place grieving for Arthur had things played out differently and had the will of the prince prevailed.
On the evening of the day when the sword of Lancelot and his cape were burned in the square of Camelot, Merlin comes to Arthur with a singular purpose in mind. He has decided to reveal his true feelings since it has dawned upon him that Arthur might die during their next expedition and the young warlock cannot bear the idea of Arthur never knowing how much he is loved.
Merlin enters the chambers of the prince cautiously and notes that he is sitting at his dressing table, staring into the looking glass. When the prince notes the entrance of his servant he looks up and regards him in the reflecting surface.
"What do you want, Merlin?"
"I wished to speak with you on a certain matter, sire."
"Whatever it is, I do not wish to hear it," announces the prince as he turns and the emptiness in his eyes is startling when he looks upon Merlin.
"But, Arthur…," Merlin begins as he steps towards him.
"Leave me." The voice is cold and unbending, and so is the gaze which follows. Merlin does as he is told and leaves Arthur sitting alone in the darkness. The young warlock leans up against the door of the prince once he has closed it and reminisces about the day before when they returned and Gwen ran into the open arms of Arthur, laughing with joy until she noted the absence of Lancelot. For a moment in time, he contemplates departure. He could after all, gather his belongings and be gone, with Gaius asleep already and Arthur miserable, nobody would notice his absence until dawn.
Then, he recalls his own words to Lancelot before they caught up with the others. How you do anything for those that you care about. In that moment he knows he can never leave Arthur, even though he will probably end up marrying Gwen, having her crowned and live happily ever after. It may hurt Merlin, even kill him and yet, he will always be there for Arthur.
Merlin turns, touches the door of Arthur and whispers; "Goodnight, my prince," before turning and walking away.