Dearest Arthur
I must start by emphasising that this is not a goodbye letter, it is not us breaking up. It is a letter informing you of all the things I've tried to say to you over the past weeks that you have chosen to ignore. It is a letter of my deepest feelings, a letter that will inform you of all the things you doing to me, making the choices that you make. It is a letter that I'm sorry to say will hurt you, will tear you into little pieces only to then salt the wounds. But I have to say these things, because if I don't then this could turn into a break up letter. For now it is simply a helping hand, a push in the right direction. It is hope, it is my faith in you to change, it our relationship laid bare.
You are aware of course, that since Gwen and Lancelot betrayed you, things have been different. I know you loved her, she was the only woman to ever truly capture your heart, and so your constant rants that she was simply 'for and heir and for show' meant nothing to me. If it were true, we would not be where we are now. For the second she walked out of Camelot's gates you were a different man, a different King. No longer were you the peoples' King, the caring King, the King that Camelot had come to love. The man I had come to love. You were a broken King, an alcoholic, a King that couldn't function without a goblet of wine in his hand. You turned against your people, serving harsh punishments for the most feeble of crimes, you stopped training with your knights, stopped going to battles. You stopped being King. You were just a man who needed alcohol to be able to do anything. Had you been any other man in the world, you'd be long dead by now. But you were King, my King, and the man I loved, so of course I helped. It was hard of course, you were very unwilling at first, didn't want to know. When I attempted to take away your wine you yelled, had me put in the stocks, threatened me with hanging or worse. On some level of course, I knew it was the wine talking, but it still hurt. Hurt so much I would go back to my chambers and cry and cry until my eyes were on fire, until I could cry no more, until I fell into a sleep plagued by the living nightmare that was your life. Yet still I came back, still I tried to help. I took the abuse, the harsh words, the half-hearted attempts at punching me, and the never ending spells in the stocks, and eventually I got through. One day I just broke, I cried in front of you and told you how scared I was, how scared I was that you were going to die, either from some stupid drunken moment, or an unexpected attack or your own pain finally getting the better of you. And that's when you realised. You realised what you were doing to me, to the people that cared for you, to your kingdom. That's when you knew you needed help. And help you got; we banned all alcohol from the castle. I made you potions that stopped the withdrawals, the cravings. Everyone around you offered their support, their advice and their love. And you Arthur, you worked so hard! I cannot imagine how tough all of that must have been on you. To suddenly refuse your body the thing it depended on, the thing it needed to function as much as the air we breathe, the water we drink. But you did it. You became King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot once again. A dependable, loving, caring King. And you became the man I loved once again.
For over a year after that, all was well. Camelot saw nothing but peace. Your people never went hungry, never went cold. You had become the great King you were destined to be. But then something changed. I don't know what it was, who it was, but something did change. Suddenly in the last few weeks you are back where you were a little over a year ago. You depend on your wine to function, you ignore your kingdom and let your people suffer, all because you are too inebriated to be anything like a capable sovereign. This time is so much worse. I have lost count of the amount of times that I have come to your chambers at midday to find you still passed out in bed, often having soiled yourself because you were to intoxicated or too lazy to get up in the night. I have lost count of the times where I have had to talk to rulers of neighbouring kingdoms in your place. And I can't remember the last time you smiled, the last time you held me in your arms and told me that you loved me
You won't talk to me about what it is that has triggered this, in fact you won't talk to me at all, and Arthur, I can't help but feel like this is my fault. Did I do something to you? Say something? Have I been pushing you towards this for weeks without knowing what I was doing? I need to know Arthur, because this is tearing me up inside. I can't help but be over-whelmed by the feeling that I caused your deterioration. That I could have stopped it, that I should have seen the signs, that I was too busy being head over heels in love with you to see that you were falling. If this is true then tell me, for I can handle that much, but if it is not the case, then I need to know because the feeling is killing me. It is eating away at me, at my happiness, my love for you, for myself. Only then can I help you. Only then can I be the supporting lover at your side, the never ending shoulder to cry on, and the person to hold you up when you fall down. Because I can't hold us both up Arthur. So until then, I am returning to Ealdor. I need to be away from you, from us. I need a break from the heartache and the pain that all this is causing me. I cannot just sit by and watch you plummet a minute longer. Not when you don't listen to me. If and when you change your mind, and you decide to let me in, then you may find me. But you must convince me that you want to change, that you want to get better. You must be willing to take my advice, to be honest and open with me. Because Arthur, without all that, I cannot trust you. I cannot come back to Camelot and watch you go down again. I cannot be with you if I have no faith in you.
So Arthur I am begging you to heed my words, to listen to my warning and to seek out help. I love you with everything that I have, and everything that I will have, but that does not seem to be enough. Maybe a lack of me will. I shall wait for you until the day I die my love, with little faith in either outcome, as I have become too confused as to know what to expect. I can only hope you make the right choice.
Forever and always yours,
Merlin
xxx