NOTE: IN THIS DRABBLE, MERLIN'S MOTHER DIED IN THE SEASON 1 FINALE

THIS IS SET EARLY SEASON 2.

Every time Merlin looked into those azure eyes, he saw death.

He couldn't help it. Really.

Because among the brazen fires of bravery, arrogance, and good- there was death.

The death of Will, the death of his mother- the death of himself.

Not in the literal sense, not yet.

But the death of his independence.

The death of his own autonomy.

And it hurt. It bubbled like the skin of his mother, it shuddered and heaved like Will's decaying body. It cried out in the middle of the night for freedom, in his own voice, in the voice of the dragon.

Sometimes, he liked to imagine that in the way Arthur walked, the way he talked, the way he smiled- he could see his mother. It was odd and it was impossible, but then again, Merlin was a sorcerer.

The old religion, the whispers and trembles of the Earth- they were alive in him.

So why couldn't the spirit of his mother have joined, have mingled, have breathed the air into the lungs of the bronzed man?

Why couldn't the glint of his eyes suddenly soften a little more?

Why not? If the magic was alive...then why not the compassion of his mother?

The determination of Will?

The steadfastness of Tom?

And if it ever came to it...

If it ever came to dying for the prince-

If Merlin died for Arthur-

Would others see his, Merlin's, loyalty reflected in the blue centers of Arthur's eyes?

But that was already there.

Arthur was already loyal.

And Merlin could see it there, see his own loyalty reflected back at him, with tints of what made Arthur -Arthur every time he met that superior, pompous gaze.

And it warmed him. Inside. A little.

It made it all worthwhile.

Perhaps if his mother and Will already lived on in Arthur...The love and affection that he had held for them also shifted, also drifted to Arthur.

Perhaps, they were already so interconnected that it was almost as if Merlin had already died for the man, a thousand times over.

And he would gladly do it again.

So sometimes, when Arthur wasn't looking, when he was pacing his chambers, prattling on about things to do-

Merlin would peek at the azure eyes and see his his own soul already reflected there, shining in the loyalty that would leak out.

And he would allow himself a small smile.

A/N: Rosemary here! If you're here because you follow me for Playing Pretend, then I'm sorry about the lack of updates on that. But I've lately gotten swept up in Merlin and I thought I'd dump my verbiage ( read: word vomit) here for your enjoyment or dislike. This was written a couple months ago, at 3 in the morning while on a Merlin marathon. BTW, thanks for reading! This isn't my normal fandom, but I hoped you enjoyed!

rosemarygreeneyes470 on tumblr if you want to!