The bravest man I ever knew.
Inspired by s5e12. Arthur told Merlin that he always thought Merlin was the bravest man he ever knew – but then assumed he was wrong, but what if ended a little differently? 1shot, but if I get enough reviews I'll do a 2nd chapter on how Arthur hears Merlin from the Crystal Cave in Camlann. No reveal, but it's close to a reveal. Don't read if you haven't watched 5x12 – no slash
I don't own Merlin – and no slash, unless you squint really hard – but I've written a BROMANCE purely.
"I always thought you were the bravest man I ever knew," Arthur Pendragon couldn't believe what he was saying. Or what he was feeling. Disappointment ruled above the other emotions, hurt, betrayal and confusion, complete and utter confusion – Merlin never left his side, and would be far more likely to defy Gaius rather than himself, prompting the fact that Arthur didn't believe Merlin's excuse, that he had to go on 'a vital errand for Gaius'.
Arthur had but the choice to assume that Merlin was backing out. Merlin, his manservant, his friend – though he'd never admit it to anyone – was leaving him when times got hard. He'd never done that! Was he changing sides? Was Merlin so sure that Camelot was going to lose, that he was supporting Morgana's tyranny?
"...I guess I was wrong," Arthur looked straight into his servants blue eyes for a second, before looking down.
"Go, Merlin." He ordered his manservant, turning around to walk towards nowhere.
"Arthur..." No. Arthur wasn't going to be guilt tripped. If Merlin didn't want to go, that was fine. Just fine.
"No, Merlin. Leave," The King ordered.
"Arthur,"
"Merlin..." Arthur warned, deciding to no longer treat the raven-haired boy as his friend.
"No – Arthur. Listen to me!" Merlin's informal tone made Arthur involuntarily turn around.
"I have no choice but to stay away from this fight, for this I am sorry, Arthur. I truly am – If I could go, I would. But I fear I would be of little use," Something reflected in the manservant's eyes, fear, pain and regret – all of which confused Arthur to breaking point.
"Merlin, you're never of use – well, apart from getting my armour ready. Why do you feel that you're unable to come this time?" Arthur knew the reason. Cowardice. He couldn't blame anyone if they felt scared, but Merlin never backed down. He even came when Arthur specifically told him NOT to, when he went to retrieve the fisher king's trident all those years ago – he'd even dragged Gwaine along with him.
Emotions were battling furiously across the young warlock's face; Arthur identified desperation, fear and helplessness. If consideration was an emotion, he was certain he could see that hanging heavily over Merlin's shoulders.
Merlin's expression settled with one of pain and regret, as he told his superior;
"I can't tell you that. You just have to trust me," Arthur barked a laugh.
"I don't know what to trust anymore, if you can't even tell me the truth of why you're unable to go with me. I'd understand Merlin, I just need the truth," Merlin sighed.
"You don't know how much I wish I could tell you the truth, sire – I can tell you but one thing. If I fail, then I doubt you'll ever see me again. Due to shame or death, I do not know – but the fact remains the same." With that Merlin bowed quickly and silently to the King, before leaving Arthur's chambers quietly.
'Then I doubt you'll ever see me again,' this worried the Pendragon more than it should have. Half of him screamed that he was worried for his friend; he surely must be doing something dire for him to say a sentence with such pain heavily weighed upon it. Another half of the King thundered that Merlin was lying, guilt-tripping his superior so that he wouldn't feel so bad about backing out when his friend was meeting, most likely, his death.
Arthur couldn't shake his daze all day. His friend was leaving him when he needed him most, but a niggling feeling in the back of his mind reminded him of something;
He's your manservant. Not your friend. A friend would be treated with equal respect, a friend wouldn't have to re-phrase everything metaphorically, a friend would not be an inferior to a superior.
He's your manservant, nothing more. A kind one, one that can be trusted, one that knows how to have fun – yet can be serious when needed to be. But just a manservant.
Nothing more.
Arthur didn't want to believe this, but there had been a huge dent in the armour that was their 'friendship', and it would take more than a blacksmith to knock it out.