"It's a new day." Arthur had opened the doors to find Merlin huddled on the stone floor. "Have you been out here all night?"
"I didn't want you to feel that you were alone." Merlin stood and stretched his cramped muscles, concern knitted into his brow.
"You're a loyal friend, Merlin." his chest tightened with gratitude towards his servant. No one had ever done such a pure or genuine gesture for him. "Come on, then." they began to climb the stairs to Arthur's chambers. "You can make us some breakfast."
"You know I don't actually make the food, right Arthur? I just bring it to you."
"What do you actually do then, Merlin?"
Merlin smirked and playfully shook his head. "Look out for you." he said under his breath.
Merlin watched Arthur carefully for the next few days. During coronation, and his crowning as the King of Camelot; during his practices or council meetings; while he ate and even occasionally while he slept. Arthur seemed to be handling the death of his father very well, and that worried Merlin. Uther hadn't been himself since Morgana had betrayed him that day, yet he still breathed. Then the assassin had come in the night and Uther had saved his only son, but had been gravely injured in the process. He was all but dead, yet Arthur still help onto hope. And Merlin, disguised as Dragoon, had tried to save the King. He blamed himself; he should have checked for all kinds of wards. The King would have healed if not for the damned necklace. And Arthur would have seen that magic could be used for good. Now all he saw was that it played a part in killing both of his parents.
Merlin was just keeping a protective eye on the new King. Even pompous, arrogant king's couldn't be strong forever. And like Merlin had told him, he didn't want Arthur to feel alone. So he watched and he waited for the inevitable.
It came rather unexpectedly. A meeting with the knights was well underway and everyone was tired and getting a bit irritable. It was Sir Leon who suggested they take a break and reconvene after dinner.
"Is your growling stomach really more important than your Kingdom?"Arthur spat vehemently. "If so, then by all means, go eat. Drink. Be merry." he glowered at his men. "Grow fat and lazy while the people of Camelot die unjustly."
Sir Leon looked down at his hands, embarrassed.
"Whoa," Gwaine interjected and put his hands up in a mock surrender. "Take it easy, princess."
Arthur was up immediately, grabbing Gwaine by the collar and forcing him roughly against the wall. "I am your King now." he growled. "I could have your head for that."
Gwaine blinked unwaveringly and stared back, undeterred. "I apologize, your majesty." he nearly spat the words.
Merlin watched the exchange uneasily. "Sire..." Arthur blinked at Merlin's voice and released Gwaine. He turned and angrily knocked the goblet of water from the table before stalking off. Merlin quickly righted it and grabbed a nearby rag to mop up the spill.
"I'm going to dinner." Gwaine huffed and the other knight's hesitantly joined him.
Merlin made his way to the King's chambers. He entered, as usual, without knocking. Arthur was breathing heavily and becoming increasingly frustrated as he tried to remove his armor.
Merlin slid behind him, gently lifting the arm guard. Arthur grabbed at the chain-mail. "Just get it off, Merlin. I can't breathe!" Merlin pulled the chain-mail over the King's head and Arthur immediately began pacing. He rubbed his hands together, panting as if on the verge of sheer and absolute panic.
"Arthur," Merlin reached out to put a steady hand on his shoulder. "Please sit down." Arthur shook his head desperately, his breathes coming faster. Merlin halted him altogether and held his arms tightly. "Breathe."
"I," he gasped, "can't." he touched his chest. "Merlin, it hurts. You must get Gaius!"
Merlin shook his head and led the blonde to his bed. "You're alright. You just need to calm down."
"NO! No, Merlin. It's my chest." he rubbed it roughly. "My heart hurts!"
"You're alright, Arthur." He gingerly pushed the King's head down so it was between his knees. "You need to breathe." He kept his hand on Arthur's back, gently massaging the tense muscles in his neck. Arthur's breathing slowed, but his panic soon turned to grief as Merlin felt him being to tremble. His breathing hitched as he attempted to regain his composure. A choked sob escaped and Merlin tightened his grip. "Arthur," he whispered, leaning in closely. "It's okay." He draped one arm around his friend's shoulders, the other hand resting on his knee. "It's okay."
He wanted to tell Arthur to just let go, to cry, to grieve and let it all out. He knew he was hurting and angry and distraught and that allowing himself to feel these emotions would help him to move on. But if Merlin even uttered the words cry or let go, Arthur would build his walls back up as quickly as he could and say something like: 'King's do not have the luxury of showing that kind of emotion'. So the warlock settled on just telling him that it was 'okay' and leaving off the 'to cry'.
Arthur's breathing became increasingly ragged and Merlin was worried he would send himself into a fit again, so he pulled him closer. Surprisingly, Arthur allowed his head to be lead into the crook of Merlin's neck as Merlin took Arthur's hand and placed it on his own chest.
"Ssh." Merlin held his hand so Arthur could feel his heartbeat. "Match my breathing." he forced himself to take in air slowly and evenly as Arthur struggled to calm himself. "In and out. Match mine."
Arthur's strong frame wracked with an equally strong sob, choking on raw emotion. "...hurts-" he rasped.
"I know." Merlin whispered into Arthur's hair as the hand closed tightly in Merlin's shirt. "Just try to breathe." He never loosened his hold on the King, even as Arthur's breathing finally evened out.
Arthur pulled back, wiping his hand over his face and refusing to meet Merlin's eyes. Merlin rolled his shoulder, silently taking note of the wetness there.
After a few moments of silence, Arthur cleared his throat. "How did you know I was alright?" he sniffed loudly, the emotions already putting themselves in check. "I truly felt like I was going to die."
Merlin shrugged sadly. "It happens to me all the time. The first time was really bad-I felt like you just did. Like I couldn't catch my breath and my heart was going to pound right out of my chest. Everything started to get black and fuzzy..."
Arthur looked solicitous. "All the time? Is it like a sickness? Is there a cure?"
Merlin caught Arthur's eye and held his gaze. "It happens in times of great stress or need. When the weight of the world feels like it will crush you, that is how your body responds." Arthur nodded as tears pricked his eyes again. "But, there is medicine." Merlin put a hand tentatively between Arthur's shoulder blades. "Just talking to a friend can help. Letting them shoulder some of the pain."
"Who do you talk to, Merlin?" Arthur's voice was quiet, brooding.
"Well, like I said," he looked away then, feeling his own eyes well with tears. "I get the attacks quite frequently."
"Merlin," Arthur's voice had gotten very thick. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you feel you cannot come to me, even after all these years."
"It isn't that." Merlin was quick to respond, surprised at the look of hurt Arthur now held. "There are just...things I cannot discuss with anyone, not even my best friend."
"Why? Merlin you can tell me anything. I will never think any less of you."
Merlin saw genuineness in his king's eyes and drew in a long, shuddered breath. "Maybe another day." He tapped Arthur's knee and stood up. "Right now, let's get you some food and return to the council. I believe you owe your men an apology."
Arthur sighed. "I don't need to apologize, I'm King." he saw Merlin's pointed look. "Fine, you're right." he rubbed a hand through his hair and over his face. "I'm tired, Merlin."
Merlin nodded and squeezed Arthur's shoulder sympathetically. "I know. But you are not alone."
"Thank you, Merlin. Truly." Arthur pulled him into a quick embrace and cupped the nape of his neck. "Thank you for everything."
Merlin returned the gesture and together, they made their way back to the round table. He knew Arthur would grow to be the greatest king Albion had ever known. Sensitivity, equity, and friendship would play a large role in that. And he would never leave him alone, for that he was certain. Despite his personal burdens, he was happy to help shoulder whatever he could of Arthur's pain. "Anytime, Arthur. Anytime."