A/N : Hey everyone! (waves) So, I promised you another Merlin/Arthur friendship story, and here it is! I'm sorry it took me a while to start this, but I had a LOT of trouble writing this first chapter, and I don't know why! The good news is : it's here! The bad news is : after tonight, I won't be. I'm leaving on holiday again - - yes, I know it's soon (I myself think it's a bit too soon, as well) but I can't help it! I'll be thinking of this story though, and I have a few conversations and things that will happen along the line already thought out in my head, so that's a good good thing.
That is, if you like this story. Please please please tell me if you do? It would mean the world to me!
a bit of info : this story takes place after the season finale, but is NOT set in the Brushfire Accident-universe, meaning : Arthur doesn't know about Merlin's gifts.
Xo, as always
[Prologue: Arthur]
The silence was so heavy. If anything, Arthur wished that he could turn back time, to an era where the words had not been spoken, though in his mind they were probably dangerously close to the truth. Be that as it was, he had hurt the person standing in front of him by speaking his suspicions, and Merlin's hand, that had been raised in argument, fell slowly to his side. The movement, and the accompanying expression, were filled with bitter disappointment and a deep aching.
Merlin pushed back the rising emotion in his throat, not wanting to show how much the strung together sentence had cut him. If it had been any other argument, with any other person, Arthur would have been slightly proud, convinced that this was the only way to get out of a fight relatively unscathed. You have to reign in your own emotions to land another blow, for if you do you will be walking away the victorious one.
This time, his own belly constricted when he looked at Merlin, the pain so clear in all his features. "Merlin.."
"Wow." Merlin breathed the word out, his chest rising and falling slowly. "I didn't think we'd ever get here.."
-
Merlin
If there was anything Merlin hated doing, it was fetching water. Knowing how exactly to position the large bucket so it actually weighed less rather than more was something he hadn't learned in his non existant training days to become servant to the great prince Arthur, and he experienced the downsides of that loss every time he went down to the courtyard.
Pushing the full bucket upwards with his knee so it pressed heavily against his chest, he couldn't contain the small groan that welled up inside of him when a large, smothered thump could be heard. Gwen smiled at him in passing. "You're doing great," she laughed reassuringly. "It took me years to figure out the knee trick."
He gave her a pained smile before daring to venture back towards the castle, inch by inch, the water splashing against his chin every time he took a step. His fingers were turning a deeper color shade of red by the minute, and his back had started to hurt. Great.
What was even more great was the fact that, mere feet away from the door that held his salvation, he ran into someone – or rather, they ran into him – and the barrel tumbled from his hands and onto his feet. The pain was excrutiating.
The culprit immediately hurried to pick the now empty vessel from the ground and held it out to him. "I'm so so sorry," he quickly apologized, " I'll fetch you some more water."
The stranger momentarily had the nerve to look him in the eye, and when he did, confusion set in like a tidal wave. Merlin's head tilted towards the left, his brow furrowed together (the pain forgotten for a second). "Do I know you?"
"Uhm, I don't think so.." the man explained. Upon taking the time to study him, Merlin found out that the man was about 5' 8", with mousy brown hair and a light beard,making him look a bit younger than he actually was. The young boy guessed him to be about 30 years his senior, but the man didn't look a year over 4O. "I just moved to Camelot, y' see? I'm Garreth." He held out his hand for Merlin to shake. "..and I'm very sorry about your water."
"Ah, don't mention it." Merlin shrugged, his eyes twinkling with a playful glint. "Just… get me a new bucket and carry it upstairs for me, and we'll forget all about it. I'm Merlin."
Garreth tensed unnoticeably, thankful the young boy had already turned his attention back to his chore at hand : staring at the place where the water had once been. There was a boy he had once known, carrying the very same name. A boy with a cute little pucker nose and dark, short strands of hair clinging to his tiny head. The small child of two years old flashed briefly in his memory. "Merlin… do you live in the Castle?"
"Sort of," Merlin thrusted the now empty object back into the man's arms, completely oblivious to what had just passed inside his thoughts. "I'm a servant."
"Ah." Garreth sighed. "The wonderful life of a serf."
"It's not so bad," Merlin grinned. "Just depends on who your master is, I guess."
"And who might this wonderous master of yours be, then?" Garreth prodded, his curiosity peaking.
"Arthur Pendragon." He explained with pride, a smile tugging at his lips. "The crown prince."
-
Arthur
When Merlin returned to his chamber without the promised water, he already felt a head ache coming on. The large smile his servant was supporting wasn't the best of signs, either.
"You'll never guess what happened."
Pinching his brow, Arthur inwardly sighed at his servant's great enthusiasm. While he usually didn't really mind his friend's upbeat happiness, today was not the day for it. He had had yet another row with his father, about duty and honor, and doing what is right. "Do I want to know?"
Merlin ignored his grumpiness and embarked on his story about meeting a stranger in the courtyard.
"Merlin, as endearing as your tales of social adventure are, now's not the time." Arthur turned away from him, hanging his jacket around the pole of his privacy screen with such a deliberate intent that it stayed put immediately – before crashing to the floor several seconds later. He cursed.
The young servant whistled through his teeth. "Someone's in a mood."
"Facing my father will do that to you."
"Again?" he questioned, confusion evident in his eyes. "What now?"
Arthur shrugged, feeling his anger ebb away by the second. Though he would never dare to say it out loud, he was grateful for Merlin. Thankful, for somehow his friend could disarm him – even though at other times, his anger was only fuelled by the man's pure idiocy.
"The usual."
"You know what that man needs?" Merlin started in a fit of rage, determined to make his point, as so very often happened when he started a tantrum. His hand was outstreched, cutting the air, his index finger menacingly pointed to the window in the left corner. Arthur supposed the poor glass construction was a stand-in for his father, and he felt sympathy well up inside of him. Poor window, on the receiving end of Merlin's rage.."He needs someone to tell him every single detail about the truths that he doesn't want to hear."
This time, Arthur did smile, for it was too difficult not to. "And I suppose you are the person for that job?" His eyebrows shot up in mock dare, waiting for Merlin to crawl back on his offer.
"Well," Merlin sighed dramatically, "If I wasn't so busy cleaning up after you the entire time, I would, yeah. Honestly, Arthur, you're too untidy for me to do anything else, it's a disaster." A small twinkle appeared in his eyes, making the light dance inside his clear blue orbs.
"By all means, Merlin, go ahead – I'm sure I could spare your poor soul for an hour or two." The statement rendered Merlin speechless, and Arthur could see the wheels turning in his head as he came up with a suitable reply.
He snickered. Well, aaall right. He'd tortured Merlin enough for one hour. Arthur sighed resignedly, preparing himself for the beaming smile that was about to take its place around Merlin's lips when he gave in. "All right," he mumbled, "tell me what happened."
-
When the mysterious stranger appeared with his bathwater, Arthur immediately understood what Merlin had meant. There was something horribly familiar about this man, though Arthur was sure they had never met before. He accepted the handshake and the polite introductions made by Merlin, but his instincts warned him about the older man's charm and easygoing conduct. And they had (nearly) never been wrong before.
He found the question in his friend's eyes, and he granted Merlin a short, almost impossible to notice nod, telling him without words that the same feeling of familiarity had come over him, as well. Turning back towards their guest, he felt everything inside of him still when their eyes connected.
Looking from Garreth to Merlin and back again, things suddenly became clear, and the words he was about to speak remained stuck inside of his throat. Dear Lord. How could he have missed this?
-
The water rose up to his collarbone, and he let his chin fall to break the smooth, transparent surface. His mind felt as if it were somehow going a million miles an hour, yet doing this while standing completely still. There was a truth hidden in there, one he wasn't sure if he wanted to be true, and he was searching for a million other explanations around it.
If Garreth was who Arthur thought him to be, then the alarmbells in his brain would not bode to good things – he wanted the man who played this particular role in life's theatre to be honest and true. Not a man who had a warning written all over his very being.
Sighing heavily, the young prince slid down,
going under.
Gaius
His head snapped up immediately when his door was being swung open, a movement he regretted when feeling the little bones in his neck crack with the sudden action. Touching his fingers to the sore place, he started to gently rub his vertebra. "Arthur," he spoke upon identifying the intruder, "would you mind giving me some sort of warning before you burst in?"
Arthur's mouth twitched in an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry," he replied. "I'll think about that next time."
"Merlin's not here."
"I know." The answer confused Gaius. Never once had Arthur actually come up here for something other than finding Merlin when he was being lazy and not able to get out of bed, or searching the quarters, looking for a sorcerer. More than that, the young prince seemed unnerved by something, and didn't appear to be in any physical pain. "I told him to muck out my tables."
He grinned at Gaius, who feebly smiled back. If there was anything Merlin hated to do, it was precisely that. Mucking out Arthur's stables took hours, and the dirt on his clothes and body was always unparalleled."It's you I wanted to talk to."
Gaius turned the switch on his various experiments and gently sat down on the wooden bench, looking up at the prince expectantly. "What is it, sire?"
"Well," Arthur walked over to where the physician was sitting, not enough at ease to actually sit down, so he lifted his right foot onto the wooden construction and rested his elbow on his knee, his lean fingers curled around his chin. "There's a stranger in town," he started as his fingers fell away and clawed at the air. "and his name's Garreth.."
Gaius tensed, a terrible ice cold poison spreading through his veins. Of all the people ever to enter this town, he had wished this person never to set foot on the stones of the place he called his home. Never to enter this wonderful bubble of protection for Merlin with a large, sharp needle in his hands.
Arthur noticed the sudden change in his mood and found in that composure all the answers he had sought. "So I'm right? He's Merlin's father?"
"Yes." Gaius drew in a large, shaking breath, his worn body heavy with anxiety.
"Right." Arthur nodded, his irrational fear rearing its head again. "So, why is he suddenly back?"
The old man's voice was soft, a mere whisper.. "I don't know." He said, his heart constricting as its beat picked up.
So? Please please please tell me what you think? Please review? It means the world to me!
Xo, as always
