AN: Anya Gallaccio's Red on Green series has a work of art called "The Beautiful Life and Death of 10,000 Roses", which is obviously where this title comes from. It's stunning and I highly recommend you to check it out. This features a more observant Arthur and will diverge from canon to fit an ending that doesn't leave me as heartbroken and unsatisfied as the Season 5 finale did. So without further adieu...
The first time Arthur saw Merlin, he didn't think much of him. All he saw was a scrawny boy who needed to be put in his place. So obviously he would do the first thing that came to mind: throw him into the dungeons. Granted it wasn't every day someone stood up for a lowly servant, but Arthur didn't spare the scrawny boy a second thought, assuming he'd never see him again anyway.
The second time Arthur saw Merlin, he was surprised that a mere peasant dared to confront him for rightfully punishing him. His life needed a bit of excitement anyway, so he tricked the boy into a fight with maces.
Suddenly, instead of seeing a scrawny boy, he saw the high cheekbones and the wide grins. He almost felt his own lips wanting to pull into a smile but he quickly caught and admonished himself.
It seemed the surprises would never cease as the boy actually managed to survive past the first minute. This, of course, had nothing to do with the boy's ability with a mace because Arthur kept tripping over items he could have sworn weren't there a second ago. He knew this wasn't normal but he couldn't figure out how they could possibly move by themselves.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was screaming "sorcerer!" but really, he couldn't blame every little thing on magic. How ridiculous would it be if every time he tripped, he executed the people around him? For now, he'd just blame it all on luck.
Suspicions arose, Arthur couldn't help but look forward to the next time he'd see this boy. It wasn't often that people surprised him; he flattered himself believing he was quite adept at reading others. This one, however, appeared to have a multitude of facades, beyond just the two most people have, based on his experience with the lords and ladies who meet with his father.
The third time Arthur saw Merlin, he was saving his life. To his utter dismay, it was the boy doing the saving, rather than himself. To make matters worse, King Uther had the decency to name this boy his manservant, without the slightest of warnings. Immediately, his innocent curiosity turned to mild distaste. It was true that the boy, Merlin, intrigued him, but to live with his insolence at his side at all times?
Arthur may not have been happy with this situation, but he was still rather offended at how opposed Merlin was to being his manservant. It should be his absolute honor. However, knowing he couldn't go against his father, Arthur begrudgingly agreed but swore to himself he wouldn't make Merlin's life easy.
Later, he would feel something warm in his stomach as he thought about how his new witty manservant didn't think twice about risking himself to save Arthur's life. He told himself that's what Merlin was obligated to do and that it was nothing more than his sense of duty; he is the crown prince after all. Secretly, he thought Merlin wasn't the type to throw himself at the feet of the crown prince. Secretly, he hoped Merlin did it for him, Arthur, not for the crown prince.
Maybe Merlin was different from all the others.
If he was being honest with himself, Arthur had a faint suspicion that maybe this was Merlin's grand ploy to get close to him. His tactic was drastically different from his previous assassin who buttered him up in an attempt to gain trust. Maybe Merlin thought that by pretending to think nothing of the crown prince, he'd have a lesser chance of being discovered.
Arthur's head spun with this logic. Who was he kidding?
He pushed these thoughts away as he picked up his sword. He grinned to himself at the thought of fighting with Merlin again, this time without any obstacles that Arthur could trip over, though the term 'fighting' might be a bit too generous. A few meters away, Merlin stood awkwardly in armor much too big for him with his sword hanging limply at his side.
Arthur found himself thinking that if Merlin really was an assassin, he must have some inkling of sword fighting ability.
A few minutes later, Arthur stood corrected. Merlin was truly a new level of dreadful. He was split between horror and amusement, that is until Arthur found himself lying on the ground after tripping on a rock.
As he gave Merlin a list of chores to do instead, he started thinking about things, forgive his language, magically moving into his path again, both times around Merlin, as he could hardly admit to stumbling on his own. He wasn't a bumbling fool, unlike a certain someone.
But in light of the tournament of which he was currently the defending champion, Arthur took his mind off of Merlin.
The battleground was where he could forget all his princely duties and fighting was his release. With each swing of his sword, he could feel the weight on his shoulders becoming a little lighter. Before he knew it, he had defeated all his opponents for the day.
Instead of euphoria, all he felt was relief. His father wouldn't have forgiven him if he lost to any of these knights. Stepping off of the field, Arthur felt all the stress of being crown prince return. He braced himself for the feast that was being thrown in honor of this tournament.
Fortunately, he was spared from both boredom and insanity thanks to the very manservant he definitely was not thinking about.
Panting, Merlin quickly explained Valiant's deception and plot to kill Arthur during the fight tomorrow. It didn't completely surprise him as Valiant didn't seem the type to play fair. However, this was the word of a lowly manservant against the knight currently dining next to the most powerful man in the kingdom, but looking into the earnest eyes of his manservant, Arthur had a feeling that Merlin was telling the truth. He refused to believe he would lie about a situation as serious as this one.
Taking a leap of faith and risking his reputation, Arthur confronted Valiant in front of the entire court. To his embarrassment, nothing suspicious could be found about the shield and Merlin suddenly ran in claiming their witness was dead. Arthur felt completely mortified, and also slightly betrayed. He knew it was ridiculous feeling this strongly about someone he'd known for mere days, but he truly thought Merlin was different.
Hardening his features and making sure none of the devastation showed on his face, he fired him as his servant.
Except Merlin wouldn't give up. Arthur had to admit it was a bit endearing how concerned Merlin seemed about the fight tomorrow, but he was simultaneously flooded with annoyance. He just couldn't figure out his motives.
Arthur was getting tired of being surprised by Merlin so often. Turns out he was telling the truth about Valiant's methods of cheating. This time, he couldn't help the smile that stretched across his face, but at the same time, he found it strange that Valiant would lose control of his snakes at such a critical moment.
He had a sneaking suspicion that Merlin had something to do with it, but he quickly squashed that thought because taking that further would end disastrously.
In the meantime, he would ponder over the reasons Merlin could possibly have for defending Arthur so thoroughly. This was beyond anything a manservant had ever done for him.
Arthur felt a twinge of jealousy seeing the flower Gwen had given Merlin for two reasons. The first reason was that girls were supposed to be enamored with him, not his manservant. The second reason was that this was his manservant and girls shouldn't be giving him flowers. In fact, no one should be giving him flowers.
Then he internally slapped himself because there were more important issues than a serving girl giving a manservant a flower.
The sickness spreading through the kingdom had left him feeling more helpless than he ever had before. This wasn't an opponent he could defeat with a sword so he was at a complete loss. All he could do was hope that Gaius could cure them all.
Finally, he was given a task he could complete: find the sorcerer responsible for this sickness. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought of Merlin and his luck but he quickly brushed that away, until he realized he also had to search his manservant's room. Feeling only slightly ashamed, he wondered if he'd actually find anything incriminating.
His wonderings were further encouraged with how suspicious Merlin was acting. Arthur felt his heart skip a beat. What if he really was behind all this?
To his relief, there was nothing out of line in his room, besides his room as a whole. Honestly, Merlin barely owned any possessions, how could his room be this messy? He would vehemently deny this if anyone asked, but he could admit to himself that he wasn't looking as thoroughly as he should have been, though there wasn't any harm done, right?
As Arthur was arresting Gwen, he wondered how Merlin was feeling. He felt guilty for locking away someone who must be pretty important to Merlin, given the flower incident and all, but he thanked the gods above that it wasn't Merlin who committed the crime.
To his horror, Merlin bursts into the throne room claiming to be the true sorcerer behind the sickness in front of the last person to whom one would want to confess to having magic. So Arthur blurts out the first thing that comes to mind: Merlin is a love-crazed idiot.
Thankfully this has the desired result and Uther plays it off as a joke. However, this incident leaves two ideas in Arthur's mind that he can't seem to chase away. One, Merlin really is a sorcerer but he isn't the one behind the incident. How could he be? He wouldn't be able to hurt a fly. But this suspicion gave him a headache because he was taught all sorcerers were evil and Merlin was the opposite of evil so he forced his mind away from this thought. Two, Merlin really is in love with Gwen and Arthur doesn't know why on earth this would bother him but for some reason, it bothers him more than the first idea did. So he forced his mind away from that too.
After defeating the Afanc, Arthur, no longer helpless, was feeling on top of things again. Without the stress of a mysterious sickness, he was left to his own devices, which was a problem as it left his mind free to think.
According to Gaius, an Afanc must be defeated by fire and wind. He had the fire but where on earth did the wind come from? This was an underground cave that barely had moving air, let alone gusts of wind strong enough to defeat a magical monster. Only Morgana and Merlin were in the cave with him and there's not a chance Morgana would have magic, which leaves Merlin.
Arthur didn't know what to think. Time and time again, Uther drove the idea of sorcerers being evil into his head. Then Merlin comes along shattering everything he'd known, but then again, he'd only known him for mere days. This could all be an act. But why would he go through this much trouble? There's no way an evil sorcerer would endure the tasks Arthur set out for him.
Unless he was using magic to accomplish them.
But of course there was also the chance that Arthur was completely overthinking everything and Merlin was just abnormal manservant. Well, as normal as Merlin could be.
Arthur's mind raced and he longed to confront Merlin about it. But confronting would be admitting to knowing and admitting to knowing would leave him obligated to turn Merlin in as his duty as crown prince.
Then there was the other issue.
Morgana confided in him about her suspicions of Merlin being in love with Gwen. Seeing as both of them shared the same suspicions, they couldn't possibly be wrong, but he couldn't figure out why this bothered him so much.
He couldn't help but wonder if Merlin would confess to being the sorcerer if Arthur was the one imprisoned. Half of him was brooding while the other half was insisting he was being an idiot. Arthur grew convinced that all his problems would be solved if he could talk to Merlin about all of this. But he couldn't.
So he did the next best thing: he wrote it all down. He spent all night writing down a letter containing the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind since his suspicions first grew. He knew he'd regret it in the morning, but he was suddenly reminded of the flower Gwen gave Merlin and was consequently tempted to pin the note on a rose as if he would actually deliver it.
He grabbed his cloak and before he lost his nerve, rushed outside into the cool air. Plucking a beautiful red rose from the nearest bush by the castle, he hurriedly returned to his chambers, tied the letter to the rose, and left it in his cabinet before carefully locking it, promising he'd never unlock the door.
Exhausted, he collapsed down on his bed, his mind finally at peace.
He thought he knew fear—conquered it, even—but Arthur had never felt true fear before this moment.
Nothing had ever frightened him as much as watching Merlin drink a possibly poisoned chalice had. Time seemed to slow. Arthur was painfully aware of how quickly, but sporadically, his heart was beating. It was as if his heart couldn't decide between skipping a beat or adding a beat.
He felt a second of relief when Merlin turned, as if unscathed. But that relief soon turned to terror as he watched Merlin slowly crumple to the ground. Suddenly time seemed to unfreeze and Arthur rushed forward, his heart squeezing. He found it incredibly hard to breathe as he desperately tried to awake his poor manservant.
Yet again, Merlin had saved his life, and this time, it was Arthur's turn to save his. It didn't matter that this would be the most dangerous journey he had ever undergone. What mattered was that Merlin's life was in his hands.
When Arthur was faced was imminent death, hanging from a ledge with spiders crawling to him, his thoughts once again jumped to Merlin. He had to admit, there were worse ways to die, but his biggest regret wasn't the shortening of his life. No, his biggest regret was that he wasn't able to save Merlin. By dying, he'd be leaving Merlin to die too.
Then a glowing orb appeared before him. Something about this ethereal ball of light felt familiar even though Arthur was positive this was a result of magic, but something also told him it would lead him to safety. So with luck on his side, Arthur managed to both grab the mortaeus flowers and escape the cave.
Despair. Utter despair.
That's what he felt when he watched his father crush the hard-earned flowers under his boot.
Relief. Utter relief.
That's what he felt when he saw Gwen deliver a tray of food to his cell.
A small part of him felt angry that Gwen would be the one bringing the mortaeus flower to Merlin. He was the one who went through that perilous quest, not her. Another part was simply happy that Merlin would be saved. But then he thought about Merlin waking up and seeing Gwen's face and that anger returned tenfold.
But all that was cancelled out by the joy he felt upon seeing Merlin alive and awake and smiling like the idiot he is. He had to physically restrain himself from taking him into his arms to feel his heartbeat and proving how alive Merlin is.
Behind his back was a clump of roses he'd picked on the way here. He didn't know why he did, but he had half a mind to hand them to his manservant. He told himself giving him the mortaeus flower was enough; there's no difference really.
There was a difference though.
He forced himself to keep the roses hidden as he made his way to his chambers. It was only there that he realized why the floating orb of light felt so familiar. It had the same reassuring presence Merlin did.
That night, he wrote another letter, spilling his torrent of emotions that he was pretty sure he shouldn't feel. He didn't actually know what he was feeling but he knew it was the reason he felt all warm inside as soon as he saw Merlin smile.
His cabinet had 9 roses now.
The next 13 roses came from his anger towards one very honorable man: Lancelot.
In fact, he was so angry that when he plucked the roses, he tore the skin of his hand on the deadly thorns along the stems, which were now covered in his rich, crimson red blood.
Just saying the name filled him with bitterness. First, this unknown man saves Merlin from a griffin and then he manages to successfully land an attack on him.
Arthur is even more annoyed by the fact that Lancelot is a perfectly good person and a perfectly good knight.
At the celebrations for Lancelot's knighthood, he finds himself rather enjoying his company, until they started talking about beautiful people. Arthur was barely able to stop himself from saying 'he' instead of 'she'.
Do you think he's beautiful?
I do.
He really is.
Arthur was fairly certain Lancelot was talking about Gwen but that only reminded him that that's the very person on whom Merlin set his sights. He told himself he most certainly wasn't jealous.
The next morning, Arthur realized that Lancelot somehow managed to get Merlin to lie for him. For some reason, that was the fact that angered him the most, even though Lancelot lied to the kingdom that he was of nobility. He felt almost as betrayed as he did when he thought Merlin made up the story about Valiant's shield. Then a horrible thought occurred to him. What if he had used magic to forge the papers? Geoffrey did say that the forgery was amazing.
To make matters worse, Lancelot was the one who defeated the griffin while Arthur was knocked out. But he was positive Gaius said it couldn't be defeated without magic, which meant someone aided Lancelot in defeating the monster.
The jealousy and betrayal caused the parchment to tear under the stress of the quill. He told himself the anger was from his manservant, who should hold Arthur above all others, lying to him, not from Merlin lying to him. He'd feel this way if anyone else did the same thing.
The letter was covered in ink blotches, little tears, and bloodstains. Dramatic as he is, Arthur felt this letter was an accurate representation of his heart.
His cabinet had 21 roses now.
That wasn't me.
That hardly seemed enough of an apology. He wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for. It wasn't like it was his fault or anything. Okay, maybe the three trips to the stocks were kind of his fault, but Arthur couldn't be blamed for being mind controlled.
He was absolutely horrified by the idea of eloping with the girl, Sophia. He was Prince Arthur; he wouldn't resort to eloping. Unless..
He didn't let himself finish that thought.
Back to the letter at hand, he really didn't have anything else to say. Not that it mattered, but Arthur had an inexplicable desire to make every letter perfect.
Nonetheless, the piece of parchment had but three little words on it.
His cabinet had 23 roses now.
He did it for him.
Merlin was rubbing off on him. Ever since he became his manservant, the number of times the crown prince defied the king increased dramatically. Honestly, if he hadn't met Merlin with his accursed magic, there's no way he would've helped a Druid boy. It had only been mere weeks and he had already changed him so much. It terrified him.
It was obvious the Druid boy and Merlin had some connection. But how would a Druid boy know Merlin? He almost seemed in awe of the lanky servant.
Arthur couldn't see it.
Or maybe he could. Perhaps not in the same way though.
He liked to say he'd changed for the better.
To think just last year, he wouldn't have given the boy a second thought. Executions came pretty often, though come to think of it, the last one Camelot had was the first day Merlin arrived; the day he saved his life for the first time.
Exhausted from smuggling out the boy, Arthur wanted nothing more than to collapse onto his bed, but on his way back to the castle, he encountered another rose bush. He'd practically depleted the one he'd been frequenting, so he took his time carefully plucking the roses from this one. He lost himself in the rhythmic process of reaching into the bush, pinching the stem, twisting, and gently, minding the thorns, pulling out the rose. He wasn't going to do what he did last time after Lancelot's visit. His hand was sore for days.
That night, as he put ink to parchment, he wrote his first thank-you letter.
His cabinet had 57 roses now.
He really needed another spot for these roses; he couldn't continue stuffing all of these into his cabinet. Merlin was starting to get suspicious. He made a mental note to go searching for a bigger space.
In the meantime, he had to figure out a way to defeat an undefeatable knight.
Then, something caught his eye. Merlin walking with a package in his arms. He was pretty sure he didn't send Merlin on any errands so this had to be something for himself. In a split-second decision, he grabbed his cloak to follow Merlin and see what exactly he did in his free time, not that this was his free time. Arthur had half a mind to give him an earful about polishing his armor.
Following from about 20 yards away, he strode (not crept, because princes don't creep) along the hallways of the castle, careful not to let his boots echo. He couldn't think of a reason for Merlin to come down here. In fact, now that he really looked, these hallways didn't even look familiar. How could someone who's been here for only a short time know the castle better than him, who's lived here all his life?
The air suddenly cooled and he felt a faint breeze against his cheeks. He heard Merlin's footsteps stop and swiftly hid behind the wall. He was bursting with questions but he forced himself to wait patiently.
He wasn't sure what he was expecting but certainly not the clear beating of wings. He didn't think he could be surprised any further but then, echoing around, came a booming voice that he didn't recognize.
If anyone asked, he most certainly wouldn't have admitted that a dragon could've been hiding from him for years right under his nose. Literally.
But it did finally give him a confirmation about Merlin having magic. Sure, he had his suspicions but he didn't dare voice them because it was such an outrageous claim. The scrawny serving boy was a powerful sorcerer? Insanity.
But Merlin had good enough went and confessed to being a sorcerer. The ironic part was that when he did confess in front of the king and his advisors, no one believed him. Arthur couldn't argue with the scene he just witnessed though, and he wasn't really sure how he felt. Some part of him wanted to turn him in. He was a sorcerer! And he was also very offended, and hurt, that Merlin would lie to him, to everybody. But the other part of him argued that Merlin was also a sorcerer that saved his life multiple times and he couldn't have told anyone because magic was outlawed in the entire kingdom.
His head hurt.
The more rational side of him won. Merlin technically didn't commit any crime beyond existing. So Arthur would observe him carefully and if he stepped a toe out of line, he'd tell his father.
His heart hurt.
He wanted to trust Merlin, and he did, really. But this confirmation of magic made he question if he could trust him. Whenever he pictured him, he didn't see some evil sorcerer plotting to take over Camelot. He just saw lips pulled into a wide grin that should totally be outlawed because it can't be right that someone can smile so heartbreakingly beautifully and a face that can't show any negative emotion because that face was made for smiles and laughter.
But that doesn't change the fact that he has the potential for evil because magic is evil.
"I know you're there."
He was rudely interrupted from his thoughts by the dragon and no, he most certainly did not jump a foot into the air. Which then led to the dragon droning on about some nonsense involving destinies and coins. He tried not to dwell too much on it.
He failed.
"The Once and Future King" had such a nice ring to it. But that couldn't be him. The Once and Future King was destined for greatness. He couldn't do that. It was too much. And suddenly the not-so-inspirational spiels Merlin had made sense. Of all the people to whom he could've gone for advice about destinies for greatness, Merlin was the last person of whom he'd think.
But he was precisely the one person who'd understand.
With all those thoughts jumbled around in his mind, his imagination went its merry way into a realm where Arthur could tell Merlin everything, instead of a limp piece of parchment. So he told that limp piece of parchment of a world where it was Arthur and Merlin against the world.
And suddenly he realized the perfect place to put all the roses.
The cave.
The very cave that unfortunately had a dragon residing in it.
His cabinet had 71 roses now.
Arthur was somewhat hurt by the expectant expression on Merlin's face when Will claimed he was the sorcerer who caused the twister. Arthur knew better of course but he was deeply humbled by Will's will to keep Merlin safe, though he secretly felt a little jealous of their close friendship. It still hurt that Merlin didn't doubt for a second that he would condemn any and all sorcerers, even for performing magic to save his life.
He didn't think he would.
He'd give anything to be able to tell Merlin that he knew of his magic, to give him some semblance of comfort during this devastating time.
After this, he couldn't believe that he had suspicions concerning Merlin's motives.
So he wrote his first apology.
I'm sorry.
In a moment of overwhelming despair, he spent the entire night plucking roses from every bush he could find, despair making him throw caution to the wind. By the end, thorns covered every inch of both palms. He welcomed the pain; it was a relief from the anguish he felt whenever he thought of Merlin trusting others with his secret but not him.
He refused to tell Gaius how these wounds came to be; he couldn't even think of a passable excuse. Arthur wouldn't be able to hold a sword for a solid week.
The roses couldn't fit in one cabinet anymore so Arthur hid bunches in random places in his chambers. It was quite comical seeing petals everywhere, but the worst part: Merlin wouldn't be the one cleaning up this mess.
He groaned.
His chambers had 439 roses now.
Arthur was stressed out. So he went hunting, which was supposed to relax and calm his nerves. And it did, for a while anyway, but then he saw Merlin standing next to the unicorn. Arthur would've laughed in someone's face if a year ago, they told him he'd be having a nervous breakdown over a servant standing next to a unicorn.
But there he was, having a nervous breakdown over a servant standing next to a unicorn. It wasn't fair that someone could be as pure as a unicorn. It was absurd.
Yet there Merlin stood, smiling softly as he stroked the stunning creature. Against the blindingly white pelt of the unicorn, Merlin looked like he was glowing, his cheekbones the most defined it's ever looked and his skin perfectly smoothed, not a wrinkle in sight. His manservant seemed so at peace, so content.
Did he ever look at him like that?
It made his heart hurt thinking about it.
Of course he didn't. Arthur was his master who made his life a living hell. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but he was sure Merlin would never look so happy watching him. He longed to be the one who'd make him smile so wide.
He wanted to scream. When did he become such a girl?
Suddenly he felt overwhelmed with jealousy and the feeling that nothing he did would matter because no matter what he did, Merlin and Arthur would be nothing more than servant and master.
So he fired that crossbow.
And he was immediately filled with regret. Seeing Merlin's face fill with sorrow and distress was perhaps the worst moment of his life. But he couldn't undo what he just did.
Maybe that was why he was perfectly willing to drink the poisoned goblet.
It felt like time had slowed when he was falling onto the sandy beach. The last thought that went through his mind was of Merlin being in this very position in the dining hall.
At least it wasn't Merlin this time.
One corner of his lips was pulled up slightly as he met the sand.
Later, seeing that unicorn again grazing near a single rose made his heart burst with happiness and relief. However, it was seeing Merlin's breathtaking smile that suddenly made all his pain and toil worth it.
No more jealousy, because as he fell after drinking the sleeping draught, he caught a glimpse of Merlin's face. He couldn't tell if he was proud or upset that Merlin's countenance was twisted in a look of anguish far more potent than the look he had upon the death of the unicorn.
His chambers had 440 roses now.
Uther was wrong about so many things, and quite frankly, Arthur couldn't believe he was of the same mindset before. He was already moving away from Uther's unwavering stance against magic, and now he was moving away from his stance against justice.
So maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but Tom obviously wasn't the culprit; in fact, he was more like the victim.
Morgana's relationship with Uther had been stretched thin over the past few days, and Arthur feared it was nearing its snapping point. He agreed with her, but he couldn't voice his opinion like she could. She was the king's ward, which means she isn't held back by the same duties. He's the crown prince; he isn't allowed to stand against the king.
But how he longed to truly voice his opinions around his father.
You are wrong. Oh so terribly wrong.
Was that considered treason? Would writing down his thoughts also be considered treason?
If so, he'd already committed treason over and over, without any regrets. He wondered if one day, he'd be able to show these letters to Merlin. He dared to think of a day where magic was no longer outlawed and he was king.
Would he allow magic in Camelot once again?
The thought terrified him, but when he pictured Merlin standing by his side, he allowed himself a slight smile. Maybe when he was king, he'd be able to tell Merlin everything. Well, almost everything.
His smile fell.
A king couldn't pursue anything beyond a master and servant relationship. Not that he wanted to, of course. Did he?
He wanted to slap himself every time his eyes drifted to Merlin's lips, every time his breath caught when Merlin smiled, every time his fingers ached to lace themselves together with Merlin's fingers, every time he licked his lips when Merlin's neckerchief revealed a bit of skin. He swore to himself time and time again that he would never again think these thoughts and he broke that promise time and time again.
He plucked every single rose in the royal gardens.
Arthur dipped his quill in the inkwell every seven seconds. He found writing to be very cathartic and the scratch of the quill against the parchment to be oddly soothing. He lost himself every night in these letters that would never see the light of day.
He wrote about how Merlin's eyes seemed to twinkle under the sunlight, how his pale cheeks seemed to have a permanent blush, how no matter what he did a smile appeared on Arthur's lips, how time froze whenever he laughed, how Arthur yearned for even the shortest moments of conversation, how his heart ached every time they got close, and how painful it was to watch him talk to freely with everyone else.
His chambers had 612 roses now.
He thought he was merely pretending to be unconscious but before he knew it, he really was unconscious.
But in his last seconds of consciousness, he could've sworn he heard Merlin mutter some words in language he didn't understand and saw his eyes glow an unearthly color. He couldn't decide if it was terrifying or beautiful so he went with terrifyingly beautiful. This was his first time witnessing magic in his defence. It sent shivers down his spine.
Then it went black.
A few seconds later, his vision cleared. He was dangling between four of his knights, which was quite an uncomfortable position. He demanded them to set him down but none of them reacted in the slightest. Confused, he yanked his arm from the hands of the leading knight. To his shock, his arm split in two.
Wait, that wasn't the right way to describe it. It was as if the arm he was controlling was a ghost version of his actual arm. He jumped down and his heart skipped a beat. There, raised above the same four knights, was Prince Arthur.
Yet standing a few yards away from them was also Prince Arthur.
He looked down and his breath caught. It was as if he was simply made of mist. He went to grab his left arm with his right hand and it felt solid enough, but when he reached out to press his hand against the walls of the castle, he fell right through.
Panicking, he ran after his physical body, only to stop short when he heard Gaius's grave voice telling Merlin that Arthur was as good as dead. His eyes widened. His lungs must have collapsed because he suddenly couldn't breathe. The memories came flashing back: the questing beast biting him, Merlin enchanting his sword, the beast falling, Merlin screaming his name.
He was a dead man.
He felt empty. This wasn't how he wanted to die. He was going to confront Merlin about his darkest secret. He was going to allow Merlin perform magic out in the open unashamedly. He was going to become the Once and Future King with his most trusted Court Sorcerer. He was going to die satisfied and content, not with unfinished business.
He wanted to collapse onto the nearest chair but something told him he would've simply fallen straight through.
At least Merlin's safe.
But Merlin would've never known that Arthur knew about his magic. They had unfinished business.
No, Arthur thought, this is not how this is going to end.
He was thrown from his thoughts by an anguished wail. He threw a careless glance out the window but jerked his head black. There, in the middle of the courtyard, was King Uther acting completely unlike a king.
It broke his heart.
Arthur realized it was for him, and instantly he forgave Uther for the unfair judgment he passed concerning Tom.
His father made so many wrong choices, but Arthur knew he still had good in his heart. It made Arthur increasingly curious about what happened before his birth that caused such a hatred for magic, enough to lead to the Great Purge, but that was a thought for another day.
He made up his mind that he was not going to die today, but he might as well take advantage of his metaphysical state. He'd do what he was always curious about: follow Merlin.
He didn't think his heart could break any further. But there Merlin was, shattering his heart into a thousand pieces. Somehow, at the same time, Merlin managed to put every piece together again.
He was willing to trade his life for his? Idiot!
Arthur had taken the bite of the Questing Beast for Merlin and here he is throwing away that sacrifice?
He was overwhelmed with affection for his manservant. Every doubt he had, every moment of jealousy over Merlin caring for other people, and every uncertainty was erased. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face, but at least no one could see it anyway.
But then he remembered Merlin was going to die for him, which he couldn't let him do. He didn't know how exactly he was going to do that since he was completely unseen, unheard, and unfelt, but he was going to, somehow.
Yet no matter what he did—screaming at the top of his lungs, throwing punches, glaring—Merlin was still headed to the Isle of the Blessed.
Somewhere, distantly, he felt the echo of the killing bite on his side as he watched Merlin. He flinched terribly because he hadn't felt anything in hours. From that same unknown, distant place came Gwen's soft, gentle voice. He felt his heart pull a little but he had to follow Merlin.
The bloody idiot.
Here they were, one tangible and one intangible, standing in front of one of the most powerful sorceresses. Merlin stood so bravely, fighting for Arthur's life. This whole time, Arthur thought he was the strong one and Merlin the weak one, but now, he thought it was quite the opposite. Merlin had a quiet strength that would've gone completely unobserved if it wasn't for this strange case of half-living and half-dying.
Arthur was quiet for the journey back. He had screamed his throat hoarse to no avail. With a heavy heart, he drifted behind Merlin as he made his way to the physical Arthur.
Suddenly, his vision went black, only to, again, wake up in a few seconds.
He was back in his body. He wanted to cry, but princes don't cry.
And then when he found out Nimueh had taken Merlin's mother's life instead, he was ashamed to say he felt relief, but almost as soon as he felt it, he was flooded with guilt.
I'm happy to be your servant until the day I die.
When Merlin came to Arthur for his little spiel about his destiny as a great king, he immediately knew this was his idea of a goodbye. He almost broke down there and then, but he knew he couldn't stop Merlin from sacrificing himself for his mother.
Merlin's words still echoed in his mind later that day. Until the day I die. What did Arthur do to deserve such devotion? Was it his future self that inspired it? If it was, how could Arthur possibly live up to such expectations? He wasn't worth it.
To his surprise, out of nowhere came a bout of dizziness. The next thing he knew, he was back on the Isle of the Blessed, but this time, he wasn't alone in this misty state. Gaius was there with him. They silently acknowledged each other.
Gaius didn't seem remotely surprised to see Merlin there as well. Of course he knew about Merlin's magic.
Today had already been too much on him and on his heart, but seeing Merlin duel Nimueh tops it all. Arthur could've sworn his heart stopped beating for the entirety of it. Every time Merlin fell, Arthur's metaphysical stomach fell with him.
Somewhere in the middle of the duel, he realized: magic was like a sword; it was as evil as its wielder. That settled it.
As soon as I become king, Merlin, I'll reopen Camelot's doors to magic. I swear it.
He'd never been scared of Merlin before.
Sure he knew of his magic, but it never occurred to him that Merlin could use that magic offensively. When that bolt of lightning struck Nimueh, instantly killing her, Arthur felt a chill travel down his spine. If he didn't spend nearly every second of his life with the sorcerer, he would've been terrified of him taking over Camelot.
It scared him how easily Merlin could take over Camelot, especially since he's already trusted by nearly all. But he was also trusted by Arthur and in his heart, he knew Merlin would never use magic against Camelot.
Arthur was physically exhausted, but as he lied on his bed, he just couldn't fall asleep. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, but finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and got up to sit at his desk.
He stared at his quill and ink-stained desk. How he wanted to recount every detail of a day's worth of realizations, but he didn't know how to put it in words. He twirled his quill between his fingers, trying to figure out how to translate emotions to ink.
In the end, all he wrote was the promise he made to Merlin earlier that day.
His chambers still had 612 roses, which were stuffed in his cabinets and drawers, under the bed, and in every spot out of sight that he could think of. He really needed to figure out how to position them in the cave without disturbing the dragon.
But that was a problem for another day.
Finally, Arthur fell into a peaceful sleep in the first time in a long time because Merlin was safe and Arthur had a goal for his reign and everything was fine. For now, anyway.
AN: Part 2 soon to come:) Reviews gladly received.