The hall was filled with older men, Arthur sitting proud at the head of the table. Merlin, his servant, was standing less than gracefully at his side. The chatter from the table was focused around a certain terrorist druid organization and how to terminate it. Arthur and the group had settled on a plan of action, before Merlin decided to open his mouth.
"Sire, I really don't think that's a good idea." Merlin confessed.
The council stopped speaking instantly. A few of the men looked like they had been slapped, the others were disgusted. Arthur's head shot up from the paper he was reading and slowly turned his head towards Merlin, who was standing next to him.
To say Merlin interrupted meetings often would be like saying the sun sometimes rises every day. If Merlin had an opinion, he told Arthur, and sometimes Arthur would listen, however, this time, Arthur had begged him to not say anything. This was the entire council and they demanded respect.
Merlin, of course, did not listen.
"Merlin, I thought I told you –"
"But sire –"
"No buts, Merlin!" Arthur shouted. He slammed his fist down on the oak, startling a few of the older council members. "Learn your place, or leave."
Merlin took a few steps back and nodded before walking briskly out of the room.
Arthur let out a brief sigh but continued with the meeting.
Arthur found Merlin in his chambers when he was done with the meeting. In Arthur's regards it had gone well. Mordred and his group of "hostile" druids we're to be captured and questioned about their potential uniting with Morgana. Arthur could not have this.
But that was for tomorrow, right now Arthur had more important dealings to tend with.
"Merlin," Arthur called, but Merlin didn't turn to him. He continued polishing the tarnished silver of Arthur's eatery, humming a very obnoxious tune very loudly.
"Merlin." Arthur called again. No respond.
"Dammit, Merlin!" Arthur yelled, but Merlin refused to look at him. Arthur put his head in his hands and sighed. "Merlin, look, I'm sorry for what happened during the meeting, okay?"
No response other than Merlin humming louder and the loud clang as he forcefully put down a goblet and picked up a fork.
"Look, you can't just say stupid things and interrupt people with decades of experience and not expect to get scolded."
Merlin put the silver down and turned to face Arthur. Arthur could see his irritation, his face was red hot and his neck tense. Arthur dryly swallowed. Had he really made Merlin this mad?
"I don't – it doesn't matter, sire." Merlin replied, "Considering I'm too stupid to have ideas about battle, shall I go muck out the stables?"
"No, Merlin, stay with me. I'm sorry." Arthur pleaded but Merlin, apparently, wanted nothing to do with it.
"No, really, it's fine. I'll just go be dumb and get scolded somewhere else." Merlin mocked.
"Merlin!" Arthur barked, "What has gotten into you?"
"Into... me?" Merlin parroted. Merlin's face became contorted and Arthur felt confused. He had never seen Merlin look so... angry.
"You know something, Arthur? You're just like your father. Every time Gaius would try to help your dad would be like," Merlin lifted his hands and flailed them around, "And then would go 'NOT MAGIC GAIUS, NOT MAGIC, YOU'RE AN IDIOT' and then guess what it usually was, Arthur, it was magic! And people usually died. Why is it so hard for you to take help from someone who used to use magic?" Merlin stopped speaking just long enough to take in a big breath of air, "You are just, such a spoiled prat sometimes and you're going to run this kingdom into the ground just because your mother was killed by magic, I mean really Arthur you didn't even know her, let it go!"
Arthur took a few steps back. Merlin's gaze was cold and unmoving, pressed solidly against his own. He couldn't look away. There was truth in those words, but there was more truth in Merlin's eyes. Arthur's fist became clenched as his mind imagined his own being placed against the silhouette of his father's. He had tried to hard to be a benevolent king, where did he go wrong?
"I'm sick and tired of you acting like you're so superior and so brave and just so bloody perfect." Merlin cried.
Arthur dipped his head in shame. Merlin wasn't a 'nobody', or at least, not to Arthur. Those words, 'just like your father' resonated through Arthur's head. Reverberating and irritating every part of him that was true and just. His father had been a wrathful and spiteful king and Arthur had tried to undo that. Ever since Arthur had learned of Merlin's magic, he did his best to protect him, tried to show him that he did not host the same hatred for magic users as his father had. He had instilled new laws that allow the practice of magic in supervised conditions, he had set up magical schools, he had paid restitution to many magical families who had lost someone during his father's purge, and he had done it all for Merlin.
But maybe Merlin was right, Arthur had an issue with showing emotion, and he had tried, oh so many times to show Merlin how much he meant to him, but he was never able to just tell him.
"Merlin, I –"
"What? Arthur, what? What could you possibly say to make any of this right? Are you going to pay me off? Whip me? Please, enlighten this stupid servant."
Arthur could hear Merlin's quick breaths, he could feel the negative energy gravitate towards him, suffocating him.
Arthur had felt pain once, when his father died.
Arthur had felt pain twice, when Guinevere had cheated on him
But Arthur had never felt pain like this, the true pain of losing someone you love, even though they're not dead.
"I understand, Merlin."
Merlin hadn't tried to be so hostile. He tried to give Arthur the benefit of the doubt. After confessing his magic and then telling Arthur the stories of how Merlin had saved him, well, Merlin had expected a little more reverence than just the average house elf.
But, Arthur had not listened. He still thought of Merlin as a boy, a young nobody with no intelligence and no understanding. A rag to be used and tossed, an uncomfortable chair on its last legs. Merlin hated him for that, hated the way Arthur would berate him with words like: stupid, ignorant, silly, childish.
And that is what lead Merlin here. Standing in front of his king, who to Merlin, looked like he had gotten punched in the face. Merlin couldn't hold it back anymore, he refused. He was more than just a servant to Arthur.
"I could have taken that from anyone, Merlin" Arthur whispered.
Merlin stopped looking at his shoes and shot his eyes up to Arthur. Merlin couldn't see his face beneath the awkward angle of his hair and the tilting of his head, but what he could see had to be a lie. Arthur did not cry.
"Anyone, Merlin, anyone, but... but from you?"
Merlin felt his heart leap into his throat, bounce off his head, and plunge into his stomach. He reached his hand out but Arthur swiped it away.
"Leave." Arthur commanded.
"Leave?" Merlin repeated.
"Depart, leave, exit, pick a verb and do it."
Merlin turned slowly towards the door.
"You're also relieved from your duties." Arthur said from across the room.
Merlin turned around again, "For how long?"
Arthur's back was still to Merlin, his body leading against the stone wall windowsill. Arthur cleared his throat and turned his head so Merlin could hear him speak.
"Forever? For – I dunno, obviously you harbor more hate for me than I... could ever realize. It seems that either I am my father, or you hated my father so much that you," Merlin swore he heard a sob, " -ahem- that you see him in me. Either way, it would be cruel to force to in my presence when you, obviously, don't want to be in it."
Merlin could feel Arthur's words eating at him; eating at him until he was hollow and empty. He had made a mistake.
"No! Sire, I didn't mean –"
"Just please, leave." Arthur begged. He turned his head back to gazing out onto the court yard.
The doors to Arthur's room slammed shut and the echo of rapidly distancing footsteps and gentle whimpers sang beautifully with the shattering of glass and the screams of an heart-broken king.