I'd walk through hell for you, let it burn right through my shoes
These soles are useless without you
Through hell for you, let the torturing ensue;
My soul is useless without you.
Merlin pushed open the door to Arthur's room, balancing a tray of fresh food in his hand. As he awkwardly maneuvered inside, he saw the usual tangled mess of sheets surrounding a sleeping body. If 'making the royal bed' hadn't been on his list of chores, he would have laughed.
Setting down the carefully prepared breakfast on the table, Merlin turned and effectively managed to knock a cup to the floor. Luckily it was empty, though that didn't stop it from bouncing several times and then rolling to some unknown location.
He winced at the noise and slowly moved to face the bed, locking eyes with Arthur's tired yet obviously annoyed glare.
"Merlin." His voice conveyed the same attitude as his expression, but with a bit more disappointment.
"Good morning, sire. I was just bringing you your meal." He smiled nervously, watching as Arthur stood up and walked towards him.
"I see that, and could you possibly be any louder? I don't think all of Camelot heard you." Arthur crossed his arms over his naked chest, trying to hide his amusement at the sheepish look he received. It almost seemed too easy to evoke that reaction.
Plainly in control, Arthur stepped closer right as Merlin was about to speak. There were mere inches between them now, and the first thing he noticed was his own pulse quickening. A teasing comment died in his throat when those wide, blue eyes focused on him curiously.
Merlin must have seen his rapid change, because there came a quiet, "Arthur?"
Meanwhile, Arthur felt lost in time. Had this always happened to him when they were near each other? Whatever the feeling was, he didn't like it. In fact, he hardly knew what to call it. This was his servant, a friend. These impulses he suddenly had made no sense. He shouldn't want to grab Merlin and kiss him until the sun goes down again, or press their bodies close if only to know that he was there and secure. It scared him.
"Leave." Arthur commanded as he took several steps back. His mask that he used to block out his emotions was put in place. So when Merlin hesitated to walk away, appearing rather confused and slightly worried, he snapped. "Sorry, was I not clear enough for you? Exit my chambers, and go be ignorant somewhere else."
The last sounds he heard after he went over to the window was the soft shuffling of feet and the much louder slam of his door. With a sigh, Arthur pressed his forehead against the glass.
He wished that this was all a dream, that any second he would wake up and think of Merlin as Merlin and not, Merlin, his manservant who makes him forget how to form coherent thoughts.
A rough knock brought him back to his senses. "Enter."
Morgana swept in, her brows furrowed in anger as she turned Arthur by his shoulder to face her. "Arthur, what did you do? I asked Merlin if you were awake yet, and he didn't even answer. He just shook his head and stormed off."
Arthur remained silent, standing still like he was a child getting chastised by his mother.
Her voice softened. "What happened? I've never seen him act that way because of you."
"I…may have told him off." Arthur murmured. He was not that surprised when, a few seconds later, he was shoved lightly. "I needed him out of here, he was making me ill."
Morgana chuckled. "Ill? Are you sure it was him doing that?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I stood near him and my stomach felt odd, my heart started beating quickly. It was awful."
Morgana watched him carefully, a knowing smile on her lips aimed directly at him. "Oh, Arthur. Merlin doesn't make you ill, you're in love."
Arthur's eyes widened. "In love with Merlin? That's ridiculous, Morgana. He's my servant."
"Who you're in love with."
"That's enough. I have training to get to."
He managed to escort Morgana out for he really was due to the training field soon. Of course, after this morning he would have to find a way to get prepared by himself. The last thing he needed was to see Merlin's stupid face and stupid grin that made his eyes twinkle with delight. He didn't want that at all.
Throughout the following days in Camelot, Arthur avoided Merlin at all costs. The task was not easy, but he couldn't bear to look at Merlin and have that twist in his gut. Even being in the same vicinity as him caused Arthur to think back to the conversation he had with Morgana, and then that word 'love' would creep into his brain and he would make up some reason why he had to leave. It wasn't fair, he knew that, to him or to Merlin.
All his life he had been taught to fend off his emotions, listen to his father's orders and kill whatever has to be killed. As a prince and a soldier he was prepared to handle every possible scenario. Except if that scenario involved a lanky, dark haired boy with a talent for spouting off unnecessary comments.
Yes, that is the one he hadn't thought of. Merlin.
Merlin had come to him and left an impression so deep he hadn't been able to forget it. He had saved Arthur from getting a knife in his chest and requested nothing in return. He made Arthur discover a side of himself he didn't know existed. Merlin trusted him, and Arthur couldn't let this ruin their relationship.
He had to tell him.
That evening Arthur searched the entire castle for Merlin, but it was as if he had completely disappeared. Not a single person had seen him around, including Gaius.
Determined to find him, he ran to the stables. It didn't matter if it took weeks on horseback, he was going to talk to Merlin.
As he entered, he froze. There, lugging bales of hay twice his size, was Merlin. The two of them hadn't talked since that morning, and no doubt the boy hated his guts.
He took a tentative step forward and scoffed at himself. He, the price of Camelot, was nervous.
"Who would have thought you'd actually be working." Arthur began, noticing how Merlin's shoulders immediately tensed.
"Do you need something, sire?" Merlin responded, no hint of playfulness in his voice. He continued moving the bedding, eyes downcast.
Arthur picked at a loose thread on his shirt absently. "I do." His gaze shifted to the back of Merlin's head. "I need to talk to you."
"Isn't that what you're doing?"
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
Arthur stared at him, wondering how he could have messed Merlin up this bad. He sighed. "Just listen to me for once." When he didn't get a reply he figured that was an agreement. "I…I shouldn't have acted the way I did. You're not ignorant, not in the slightest."
Merlin paused at that. He brushed his hands off and slowly turned around. Silent. Waiting.
Beneath that scrutinizing look, Arthur willed him to understand. "I ignored you because I didn't want to risk having that feeling again. I thought if I separated myself it would go away, but it didn't. You were in my dreams and the wine in my goblet and the windows with the sun shining through them. I hoped that every person I saw was you, or that I would wake up and you would be lying there beside me. I was insane, Merlin, and you weren't even there." He stopped to catch his breath, unable to believe what he had just admitted.
Merlin, on the other hand, was shaking his head. "You must take me for a fool, Arthur. I was cast out of your sight for days, and you expect a fake proclamation of love to fix it. I do a lot for you, more than you know, but I won't let you play me."
They were standing close now, their feet bringing them together almost of their own accord. Arthur couldn't help smiling at the outburst. Poor Merlin had no idea how much he loved him.
His servant, if he could call him that at this point, wasn't as happy. "Did you catch any of that, Arthur? I was saying that-"
Suddenly he was cut off. Arthur's lips were pressed fiercely against his, shutting him up quite well. After a moment or two he remembered that he was supposed to be mad, and quickly stepped to a safe distance.
"Arthur, you can't-"Merlin tried to say, though Arthur had heard enough. He was going to prove that this was real, that what he felt was real. He kissed Merlin again, this time wrapping an arm around his waist.
"You talk too much." Arthur whispered, and he could tell when Merlin gave in.
