Sometimes it's better to dream than to think nothing at all
"Ow!"
Arthur scowls angrily, glaring at Merlin who is currently preoccupied in strapping the prince's breastplate on. Although now he's doing it more gently as not to catch Arthur's skin again, the prince can guarantee there's going to be a bruise there later.
"Merlin you idiot! That's the third time you've done that!" Arthur complains, debating if he should thump the other over the head for that.
"Sorry sire," Merlin mutters as he bites his bottom lip in concentration. He does that a lot Arthur notes, watching him as he works quickly, fastening the shoulder plate on. Suppose it's a sign of stress. When Arthur's concentrating or distressed he paces around until he's pretty sure he's burnt a track in the floor.
There's a strong silence filling the room which is strangely unnerving. Merlin is not talking or rambling or whatever he does that involves sound and his mouth and Arthur hates silence. Especially uncomfortable, itchy suffocating silence like this one. So unbeknownst to Merlin, he decides to take it upon himself to do the talking for the both of them.
"Knight's practise today and I'm not looking forward to it." He pauses, expecting Merlin to ask why but when he does not, Arthur continues anyway.
"Last time a few knights had thought it funny to disobey orders and play around with the weapons"
He talks and rants, not realising he doesn't even know what he is saying but instead watching Merlin intently. Something is bothering his manservant. He wants to ask but isn't sure is he should. It wouldn't be any of his business anyway, Arthur concludes. He winces and bites back another angry remark as Merlin once again pinches his skin. That one hurt…
"And then he thought it would be funny to throw a vegetable at him! Obsurd I know but seriously..." Arthur trails off momentarily, noticing that Merlin isn't even listening. He doesn't really care but decides to catch the other out anyway. "And did I even tell you I'm in love with Morgana and think you're a great swordsman and Merlin you're not listening!"
Merlin jumps and stutters slightly, giving Arthur a sheepish smile. "H-huh? You're in love with a sword? Wait what did you just say? You're in love with- You're being sarcastic right?" Merlin voice has a nervous tone to it Arthur is proud of conjuring. He waves a hand dismissively, chiding Merlin.
"Of course I was being sarcastic! I was testing you and you failed."
Merlin pouts and turns way to fetch the prince's helmet and chain mail accepting the comment or two on his lack of brains.
"What is wrong with you?" Arthur sighs, exasperated, frustration finally boiling over. "You haven't said a damn word all day!"
Arthur is resisting the urge, just barely, to smack him over the head as he is, once again, lost in thought. Or in his own world. One of them. Arthur thinks it might be the latter. Merlin suddenly looks up, feeling Arthur's eyes glaring into the back of his skull. He blushes uncomfortably and Arthur cannot help the happiness he feels for making Merlin embarrassed. The other shrugs and rubs the back of his head awkwardly.
"I just…" he trails off, glancing away briefly. Arthur frowns. "Don't feel like talking"
Don't…Feel… Like… Talking?
When has Merlin ever not felt like talking?
Arthur blinks once, twice, thrice before sighing, crossing his plated arms over his chest and huffing slightly.
"Right something's wrong. What is it?"
Merlin stumbles slightly, unable to quite comprehend the question. And suddenly Arthur's smiling again, pleased to catch his manservant off guard for the third time. Not that Merlin will even know that.
"Something's obviously wrong!" Arthur scolds, waving his hand for emphasis, one of his many princely habits. "Never have you ever been this quiet Merlin. Your lack of insistent nattering is…"
Unnerving? Odd? Unusual?
"Weird…" Arthur finishes, mentally kicking himself for the chosen word. Weird. Yes very intelligent Arthur.
Merlin is silent for a moment, eyes cast downward. The prince watches as his manservant swallows, his adam's apple bobbing slightly in that long, unbearably pale, slender throat of his. Arthur is suddenly uncomfortable, shifting slightly, unsure what to say. He clears his throat.
Merlin looks up, eyes gazing into Arthur's.
"I'm fine sire," Merlin speaks, voice steady and even. Arthur isn't sure if he wants to laugh or cry out in frustration. No you're not! You're lying! Liar liar! Arthur bites back a giggle (because princes do not giggle) and raises an eyebrow. He leans forward towards Merlin who is stoic and expressionless.
"You sure?" he drawls, unsure if he is sincere or trying to lift the tension. There's a lot Arthur is unsure about lately he notices, confused. Damn why can't things be simple for once?
Merlin gives a curt nod. "I'm sure"
Arthur doesn't believe him. Merlin is a rubbish liar. But he can't stand around worrying over a mere servant without (supposedly) a problem. Merlin's a grown boy; he can take care of himself.
"Right," the prince says, turning to stride out of the room.
The thought brings no comfort.
****
Knight's practise is uneventful. Arthur can cut all the men down in a few strikes. After all there is a reason why he's the best fighter in all of Camelot. Merlin is hanging around, idly picking at a stray thread on his neck scarf and ignoring the friendly banter the knights steer towards him. Merlin is unfortunately the butt of most of their jokes.
Arthur watches him from the corner of his eye, a slight tingle enveloping in his chest. Merlin is different today, he notes, feeling slightly idiotic for not realising sooner. His skin is pale and he is looking scrawnier than usual. Not to mention his eyes. Arthur strikes down an advancing knight with one hand. He is obviously distracted, chewing his lip and staring off into the distance. Merlin's eyes are dull, the bright, zesty, impish glint departed, beaten down into a monotonous grey. Arthur sighs and rips his eyes from the other, dismissing all thought of him from is mind. Princes are not supposed to care about their servants. It is improper and foolish, his father so eloquently reminds him. But Merlin is Arthur's…friend. The thought stumbles across Arthur's mind and he is shaken by it. Glancing towards said boy, he watches as the dark haired man shifts from one foot to the other, catching the prince's stare and meekly smiling in return.
Arthur turns away; burying himself in knight's practise and tries to convince himself the blush crawling onto the back of his neck is from heatstroke. Although it's highly improbable as it's the middle of October and looks as if it's about to rain thunder and lightening. But he can hope can't he?
A moment later, Arthur discharges Merlin, unable to stand his stare boring into the back of his skull any longer. However not before leaving him with an armful of chores. Do my laundry, polish my armour, clean my bedchambers, fetch the tonic from Gaius and muck out the horses. The previous concern the prince held for the servant was pushed aside by the smug, victorious pride he felt from beating his men for the something hundredth time.
He watches as Merlin shuffles off, the usual clumsy stroll wilted down to a tired hunch. Anger, actually more like frustration, bubbles deep within Arthur. Why won't Merlin tell him what's wrong? Something's obviously bothering the idiot but he's just being stubborn. Arthur does not like secrets. Especially when they are kept from him by family and friends- there it was! The "F" word again. Friend. And now three times. Ok. So Merlin is his friend. No problem. Right?
Yes of course. And friends do not keep secrets from friends. Arthur contemplates for a moment, leaving his knights who are far from practising anyway. They laugh and joke with each other but never with Arthur. Never. Because Arthur's a prince. P.R.I.N.C.E.
It's almost as if I have three heads, Arthur thinks, smiling to himself. But Merlin doesn't seem to think so. Besides Morgana (and she doesn't count because she is his stepsister and wouldn't know good manners if it smacked her over the head) Merlin was the only person who spoke to him like an actual human being.
And Arthur likes that.
Right. It's settled. Friends help friends. Especially when they are troubled. Arthur makes a promise to find out what is bothering Merlin. One way or another.
Simply because…well they are-
Dare he say it?
Friends.
****
"Merlin!"
Arthur's patience was thinning. Rapidly.
He looked high and low all over Camelot, searching for the boy. From the town, to the beginnings of the forest, to the castle. Or was it the other way around? It doesn't matter anyway. Merlin cannot be found. Arthur searched in his chambers only to find it empty but completely spotless. The laundry was done and his armour polished to the point he could see his reflection grinning back at him.
He had strolled (more like a brisk walk but he'll never admit he was rushing) down to the stables in hope of finding Merlin in the midst of mucking out the horses, the manservant sweating from the physical exertion he so little received. Arthur is truly astonished that Merlin can even pick up a shovel with those scrawny arms of his. Unfortunately he came to find the task already completed.
Arthur is at a loss for words, baffled to say the least. He cannot comprehend where Merlin might be- AH! Gaius! Why didn't he think of him sooner?
A moment of "brisk walking" to the physician's chambers, Arthur bursts in unannounced.
"Gaius!"
The old physician startles slightly at Arthur's sudden presence and raises a disapproving eyebrow. Arthur flushes under his gaze, the overwhelming feeling he's been mentally scolded unshakable. Gaius has that affect on people without even speaking. Even his father Uther cannot escape Gaius's sagely gaze. He is at a table seemingly mixing a concoction of liquids together. The liquid in the vial shimmers to a bright, crystal blue, swishing elegantly in the glass. It gleams like crystals and Arthur has to wrench his eyes away before he is too distracted by the pretty colour. He can't help feeling he's seen the colour somewhere before-
Oh. Now he remembers.
Merlin's eyes.
"My prince," Gaius addresses, stirring the pretty blue liquid. Arthur isn't sure if he wants to stare at it or drink it. Drinking it might not be too good though. He blinks at it, his throat unmistakably dry. It looks like liquid sapphire. Maybe it tastes like blueberries? He suddenly feels like a child again.
"How may I be of assistance?"
It takes a minute for Arthur to realise he is being spoken to and he brings all focus back to the physician, remembering why he came here in the first place. He is acutely aware he's blushing, feeling stupid for ogling Gaius's potion.
"Huh? Oh yes. Have you seen Merlin? That idiot of a manservant has disappeared."
There is a moment in the air where something inexplicably changes. Something flickers over Gaius's expression briefly before he looks away, eyes lowered suddenly. Arthur has seen that look before.
Confusion.
"You mean Merlin?" Gaius repeats, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.
Uh yeah since when was there another Merlin running around Camelot?, Arthur thinks, kicking himself for the stupidity of the thought. Hmm....two Merlin's huh? Oh damn that would mean double the stupidity! And Arthur knows he can barely deal with one Merlin let alone two. Ok bad thought.
"Merlin…Wait- Didn't he tell you?"
There is a brief silence in the atmosphere. Now Arthur is confused.
"Excuse me? Tell me what?"
Tell him what? Oh Merlin hasn't gone and done something stupid has he? What if he's in trouble again? In the dungeons? Damn, Arthur forgot to check there. But why would he be in the dungeons? Certainly not visiting. Unless he's angered father. But he's not stupid enough to do that… Hold on this is Merlin. Anything's possible. Oh lord.
"Merlin left with a girl he's just met. Apparently they're in love-"
Wait a minute-
"What?!" Arthur exclaims, horrified. "Merlin ran off with a girl?!"
Love?! Since when was Merlin in love?! And with who? Why was he the last to find this out? Does everyone already know? Gwen, Morgana, Gaius, father… Wait does father know? How the hell would he know?! A girl…girlgirlgirlgirl…
Gaius is looking at Arthur as if the prince has suddenly sprouted three heads. He is bewildered.
"A girl? My prince, where did that come from?"
…
What the-
Arthur freezes, all panic within him subsiding as he assesses the situation. He comes up with one conclusion.
He's baffled. Again.
"Where you even listening Arthur?" Gaius reprimands, frowning. Obviously not.
"I was!" Arthur protests. "That's what you said! Merlin ran off with a girl and they're in love!"
Oh god…
Just the thought sends Arthur panicking again.
Gaius shakes his head and gives a short laugh. "My prince, I have no idea what is going on in that head of yours and lord knows I don't want to know after that little escapade."
He gives Arthur a pointed stare as if he knows something Arthur isn't even sure about.
"But Merlin hasn't run off with a girl. I highly doubt Merlin knows any girls other than Guinevere."
"You forgot Morgana," Arthur states, without thinking. Gaius sighs.
Arthur's panic fades, replaced with a joy that- One; Merlin hasn't run off with a woman.
And two; Merlin doesn't know any girls to run off with.
He feels vaguely ashamed that he's happy about such a thing but the relief feels embarrassingly ecstatic. He also faintly questions where he had thought of such a crazy idea.
Arthur suddenly feels sick, his head hurting.
"Um…" he starts, shifting slightly. "So where is Merlin? If he…you know hasn't run off with some girl." He laughs nervously, trying to wave the situation off as if it was a joke.
Gaius smiles inwardly. He is amused by the boy's attempt to lift the tension and his care for his manservant, even if it was unwillingly announced. Gaius just wasn't sure how deep this care ran…
The elderly man sighed, placing the vial down. The pretty, blue liquid swished around before slowing to a steady halt.
"I said, sire, that Merlin has left for Ealdor"
…Ealdor?
"Ealdor? But…isn't that his home village?" Arthur asked, choosing his words carefully as not to sound any more idiotic than he was already feeling. His brain was running rather slow today.
Gaius patently nodded. Arthur suddenly appreciates Gaius's patience a whole lot more. The man can calm even the most ferocious of beasts and it is something Arthur greatly admires.
"Yes. He's left for a few days or so. I'm surprised to say the least he hadn't told you. But then again he left in such a hurry…"
"Wait. Why did he leave? And why didn't he tell me?" Arthur demanded, voice raising a few notches in anger. He added quickly, "And are you sure he hasn't run off with a girl? ...I mean I don't care but he is cutting out on his duties." Arthur blushes nervously, hoping Gaius believes the story.
"I don't know why he didn't tell you, my prince, but I do know why he's left. I'm not sure if it is my place to say though. You'll just have to wait until he returns. Oh and I'm positive he hasn't run off with a girl." Gaius gives an impish smile but impish on Gaius doesn't look right and Arthur feels embarrassed by it as if he's suddenly walked in on an intimate moment. It vaguely reminds him of the time he thought he saw his father kiss Gaius. But then again he thought he saw it and even if he did (not that he's going to say anyway) he mentally swore he would never speak about, let alone remember, it again. It was just to disturbing for a twelve year old boy to witness. "Not that it's your business if he did. You could always find another manservant, my prince."
Arthur opens his mouth to retort, feeling the frustration welling up within him. Gaius sees this and gives him a sympathetic smile. Arthur nods curtly and strides out of the room, fists clenching.
Gaius smiles and shakes his head, turning his attention back to the vial on the table. He thought he's seen it all. But Arthur…
Well he's surprising to say the least.
He just hopes Arthur will not do anything stupid.
Gaius glances back towards the door, sighing. The thought is doomed.
****
Arthur may be a hot-headed, short tempered, testosterone consumed male but rarely does he let small things irritate him so.
Yeah right.
For the past two days, eight hours and forty-six minutes Arthur has been increasingly irritable, agitating over the smallest and minor of details. He snaps and snarls at anyone who even dares to blink at him, huffing and puffing like a temperamental wolf. In truth he is still angry (and perhaps a little more than just upset, but he'd be dammed before he'll ever admit it) that Merlin has left Camelot without consulting him first. But he is too annoyed to consult the more rational and logical side of his mind. Thus this equalled to a very sensitive, very frustrated Arthur Pendragon.
Morgana and Gwen are only to amused watching Arthur's temper tantrum and this unfortunately fuels the prince's rage. Nothing is safe at the moment. Knights are beaten in swift strikes in training, poor, unassuming trees are hacked at by his sword and the servants are the target for his aggravation.
It doesn't take long for someone to tire of the prince's attitude.
Morgana.
She strolls up to Arthur, cornering him in the corridor and glares at him, wiping the almost permanent scowl clean from his face.
"Arthur Pendragon! What on earth is your problem? You've been walking around with a personal vengeance against anyone who even looks at you! It's getting ridiculous!"
Arthur flushes under her gaze, glaring back at his stepsister. She can see right through the façade however. Morgana sighs and shakes her head, long black locks tumbling around her pale face.
"It's because Merlin's gone isn't it?"
She smiles at the expression on the prince's face. He hasn't realised he's gaping like a fish on land, surprised at Morgana's reasoning. She smiles subtly, understanding why Arthur is so angry with the boy.
He's upset with Merlin.
"You think Merlin bothers me?" Arthur scoffs. "Yeah right! Whatever he does is his business. I couldn't care less." He crosses his arms over his chest and pouts, looking away casually.
Morgana rolls her eyes and shakes her head in exasperation. Arthur glowers dangerously at her. "You don't bel-"
"Oh shut it Arthur!" she cuts in tiredly, before turning on her heel. "Snap out of it. If you must take you frustration out on someone then do it on Merlin." She smiles secretively, knowing full well he cannot see her expression. "He's back you know"
Wait… Merlin's back? Since when?!
But before she can even hear a reply, Arthur's vanished, sprinting down the corridor towards Gaius's chambers. Morgana watches him run off, eyes softening, silently praying her (step, thank the lord they're not related) brother will not do something stupid. Something he will regret.
Sometimes Arthur, she thinks, honesty is its best reward.
If only he knew that.
****
Arthur isn't sure if he is excited or fuming.
A bit of both he decides.
Something is boiling up within him, bubbling and frothing like one of Gaius's many potions. It makes him dizzy with nausea and trepidation. Something deep within his chest is crying out, wanting badly to see Merlin. For what reasons he does not know. He just wants to see him. He wipes his sweaty brow as he sprints through the castle, feet taking him as fast as they can go. But he wants to run faster. He needs to see Merlin, shout at him and demand an explanation. He needs to…
He hasn't noticed he's standing outside Gaius's door, frozen, momentarily forgetting just why he is here.
Oh right. Merlin.
Wiping his sweaty palms on his trouser legs and composing himself as best as he can, Arthur knocks twice on the heavy wooden door.
"Come in!"
Arthur's breath catches in his throat. It's Merlin.
Merlin! !
"You!"
Arthur also doesn't notice he's flung the door open, pointing accusingly at the dark haired boy across the room, eyes ablaze with fury. There's a lot he does without noticing lately he thinks, realising this trivial little fact. Yeah, not so important right now Arthur! Focus!
Merlin blinks, unsteadily placing the book or cup or whatever it is in his hands on the table. He shifts slightly, never taking his crystal, extremely (prettyprettyprettypretty) blue eyes away from Arthur.
"You know Merlin," Arthur starts off, casually enough. "My manservant's are usually more useful when they're in Camelot!" His voice rises suddenly, making Merlin jump slightly. Arthur slams the door shut before stomping towards his manservant, arms crossed over his broad chest. Something carnal is clawing deep within, wanting to burst out and shout, yell, explode at Merlin for disappearing. Well to be fair he didn't exactly disappear, he just went home. But that minor detail doesn't stop the fury from igniting deep inside his gut.
"Well Merlin? I hope you have a good explanation for this!"
Merlin finally tears his eyes away, looking rather culpable. Arthur suddenly feels a swarm of …sympathy? Regret? Something he doesn't like nor feels very much swamp his body, his heart twisting painfully.
Merlin looks awful.
He is a ghostly pale and as thin as a sheet. His clothes are hanging loosely off his bony frame and dark purple bags are hanging around his eyes. He looks tired- no, exhausted.
But Arthur can't stop himself.
"I can't understand how you think it's ok to just leave and skip out on your duties! Are you honestly that much of an idiot? You know, don't answer that."
Merlin looks up during Arthur's rant, attempting to explain. He looks terrible and Arthur wants to shut up, really he does.
"Arthur, I mean sire, I…it really was an-"
"You think excuses can get you out of this one Merlin? Huh? It can't! You are the worst manservant I have ever laid eyes on and I cannot believe I have let myself suffer this long with you!"
"Arthur please!" Merlin pleads, his voice wavering slightly and eyes glittering with an emotion Arthur cannot quite place. "If you just let me explain-"
"What's the point Merlin?! It's always an excuse! You are-"
Now if Arthur has expected anything to happen it is certainly not this. Gaius or his father to suddenly walk in. Merlin to faint like the girl he is. Morgana and Gwen to storm in and shout at him for hurting Merlin's prissy, little, girly feelings. But certainly not this.
Merlin snaps.
"Will you just shut up?! You won't even let me explain!" Merlin exclaims.
Arthur is furious. And slightly taken aback. But Merlin looks far from listening to him any longer.
"My mother is dead!"
At this moment, at this very precise second there is nothing Arthur wants more than for the ground to suddenly open up and swallow him whole, consuming every inch of him until there is nothing left. He had felt like this before, maybe only a few times but the feeling was there nonetheless. The first, when he was five years of age. He, with the innocence and naivety of a young child had asked his father where his mother was. He knew she was dead, passed into another life like a whisper of the wind, but he didn't know why. He had never really thought about it before and it was by spur of the moment he had asked. Arthur soon regretted this, seeing the pain and shock of remembrance contort on his father's cold features, forcing him to reminisce on the moment his precious wife was taken from him. Arthur could feel a cold, painful stirring in his gut, making him dizzy and nauseous. He could hear his heartbeat amplified; the loud sound of drumming ringing in his ears. He didn't quite understand what it was back then, only being five and he had run to Gaius with the claim he was sick. Although the elderly man clearly, but gently, always gently, stated that there was nothing wrong with the boy. Arthur was left confused and wandering the gardens, wandering across the castle that was soon to be his, with the feeling he shouldn't have asked his father about his mother.
Arthur felt guilty.
The second time was with Morgana. The two were slightly older, around fourteen or so. They were arguing about something trivial no doubt and soon the argument had evolved to petty insults to finally sharp tongued barbs about family. Arthur, too caught in the moment, the heat of combat even if it was verbally, lost himself and insulted Morgana's father. The pain on her face instantly wiped all traces of triumph from him, replaced with regret. She didn't talk to him for three weeks after that incident, even with Arthur's insistent apologies. It took some grovelling and many (many! Morgana's a hard woman to please) gifts to bring her around. The topic of family was never brought up again.
The third time, funnily enough, was with Merlin. It was also the worst feeling Arthur had ever felt. It was the day in Camelot when his wine had been poisoned. Merlin was insistent, adamant that his goblet was poisoned. But Arthur didn't believe him. No that was a lie. He did believe him. He did but was too cowardly to stand up to his father and tell him Merlin, a mere servant, was telling the truth. But he paid. He paid alright by watching him fall to the ground, drinking from the goblet just to save Arthur and god knows he didn't deserve it. He watched as Merlin sweat and writhed from the pain, his insides turning cold. They twisted and knotted together, the prince speechless, words caught in his throat, tongue falling limply in his mouth. Arthur wanted to scream, to cry, to laugh, to do something! But the guilt…the guilt consumed him. The lament of watching his manservant- no, his friend fall for him was too much.
He wished, how he wished the ground would swallow him, pull him away from it so he wouldn't have to look Merlin in the eye and see everything he wasn't or couldn't be.
Arthur was panicked, regretful, guilty and ashamed.
It was the worst feeling of his life.
Arthur stares at Merlin, shell shocked. His gut is churning and the feeling of shame is so overwhelming, so alien, he feels queasy. Merlin looks away, glaring at the floor. His hands clench into fists, shaking with emotion.
"But…" he speaks, snapping Arthur from his stupor. The prince dares not to speak; frightened for reason's he's unsure of. "But you wouldn't know would you?" Merlin looks up, blue eyes like shards of ice piecing into Arthur's soul. He is cold all over.
"You wouldn't. All you care about is if your boots are shinned or your room cleaned or your bloody armour polished!" Merlin all but screams the last part out, a tremor not going unnoticed.
"Th-That's not true!" Arthur retorts, humiliated at the stutter in his voice. His voice is quiet and dark. Merlin squares his shoulders, bringing himself to full height, glowering at Arthur.
"Yes it is and you know it," he seethes. "You wouldn't even let me explain. It's always about bloody prince Arthur!"
Arthur's humiliation is overwhelming, the guilt unbearable, morphing into a shameful fury.
"That's not true!" he shouts. "It's not! If you had just told me where you where going this wouldn't have happened now would it?!"
"Shut up!" Merlin exclaims. "Just shut up! You don't care! You're a selfish-"
Arthur doesn't realise what he's doing, grabbing the front of Merlin's jacket and hauling him forward eye to eye. His hands are trembling.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that you-"
"Don't touch me!"
Arthur is suddenly shoved backwards by a strong force. Merlin pushed him? Merlin pushed him? Prince Arthur?! Arthur is ablaze, his skin burning and his insides giddy with adrenaline. He tackles Merlin and soon the two are rolling on the floor, landing sharp punches to each other. They roll into a table, knocking the contents onto the floor, the sound of glass shattering ringing in Arthur's ears. Merlin knees him in the stomach and Arthur gasps, losing his grip on the other's shoulders and is momentarily winded. Merlin scampers on top of the prince, bony hands finding their way to the prince's neck and tightening around it. Arthur chokes, almost biting down on his tongue and tries to pry Merlin's hands from his throat but he is surprisingly strong. Any other position and Arthur would have been able to shove Merlin off him. But they had rolled into a corner, Arthur pressed against the wall. So he hasn't enough arm room to grab Merlin and haul the boy off.
He glares up at Merlin, face flushing red as the blood circulation is slowly cut off. He was feeling light headed; probably from the lack of air, but mainly by staring into Merlin's eyes. They are burning, a smouldering fire scorching in them, setting Arthur's soul alight. They are bloodshot, glittering with moisture and Arthur swears they're turning gold but he cannot be sure. His pale knuckles cracked slightly, blistering white from gripping Arthur's throat tightly and his hands are burning like fire. Merlin made a small, animalistic noise in his throat and suddenly everything stops.
Arthur's grip on Merlin's hands go lax, fingers falling away from the boy's wrists. He understands now, understands what's going on. Merlin is grieving for his mother.
Arthur suddenly feels ten times worse than before.
He wilts into the floor, staring up into Merlin's eyes which are unblinking, blazing right into his.
"Me-Merlin" Arthur chokes out, voice raspy as it grates against his dry throat. And suddenly Merlin's eyes widen as if he's seeing for the first time. He looks shocked as his fingers slowly unfurl their way from around the prince's neck, retreating. Merlin blinks, unable to comprehend what is going on until he is brought back into reality by a wheezing gasp from Arthur. He stares at the other, frozen, unsure what is happening. Arthur looks at him and swallows deftly, suddenly realising how close the two have become. He can feel Merlin's breath on his neck, the hot puff of air slightly ticklish against his throat. Merlin suddenly collects himself, moving from the prince and leans with his back to the wall, knees drawn up and head resting against them.
They're both breathing hard, the harsh thump of his heartbeat ringing in Arthur's ears. He lies there panting, rubbing his throat appreciatively, trying to soothe the burning. A moment later neither has shifted from their positions, Arthur still lying on the floor. Gaius's workshop is a wreck, instruments and papers strewn all over the place, covering every roomy appendage available. Flasks and bottles have either smashed or rolled onto the floor, rolling once or twice before clinking to a halt. The physician will either have a heart attack or commit high treason by killing Arthur when he sees the state the room is in. He can just about see that they've tipped a chair or two over. Fuck.
Arthur can taste blood in his mouth and his tongue quickly swipes over his lips, feeling a stinging cut from where Merlin punched him. His body aches slightly and head throbs. If he's feeling this bad then Merlin mustn't be any better.
His suspicions are confirmed when Arthur finally sits up, watching Merlin carefully. The boy is trembling, head resting on his shaking knees. Arthur feels a pang of pain hit his heart and he wants to say something, anything. But Merlin beats him to it.
"I'm sorry"
Arthur is not expecting that. Merlin is looking at him, a purple bruise beginning to bloom like a poppy on his left cheek bone. "I'm sorry for…hitting you…and that…" he refers to the fight, flushing ever so slightly although it's hard to tell; Merlin is still red from earlier. "It was uncalled for…"
There is another silence and Arthur wants to break it.
"I'm…" he starts. "I also apologise for…hitting you."
He is quiet, choosing his words carefully over this sensitive subject. Merlin nods, accepting the apology. He looks away, at his hands, at anything other than Arthur who is watching him curiously.
"Why didn't you tell me about your mother?"
The question escapes before he can take it back and Arthur suddenly feels like an idiot. He mentally kicks himself, colouring a hue of pink. But if Merlin was going to hit him again, he would have done so already. The boy sighs, gazing sadly into the distance. He shrugs.
"It doesn't matter…I didn't think it would anyway…"
"Why?" Arthur presses, confused by Merlin's response. The boy turns to look at him and suddenly Arthur is unsure if he wants to really know.
"Because…." He starts. "I didn't think I was going to see you again…so it wouldn't have mattered."
Arthur blinks, unable to understand what Merlin is talking about. He frowns. "How does that work out?"
"Because I'm not staying. I only came to get some things."
Arthur freezes, realisation dawning upon him. Merlin is looking away, once again trembling. The room has suddenly dropped in temperature and Arthur is cold all over, feeling an icy burn begin to expand in his chest as if someone has stabbed him straight in the heart and twisted the knife.
"You…You're what? Excuse me?" Arthur stammers, laughing nervously. "Thi-this isn't what…"
Merlin nods slowly. "I'm going back to Ealdor."
Those words hit Arthur like a ton of bricks. He blinks once, twice, thrice, before his fists clench tightly.
Merlin is leaving. He's going home. That's…understandable isn't it? Its fine, of course it's fine!
Arthur quickly rises to his feet and nods, hiding his shaking fists.
"Fine."
And leaves.
The door shuts behind him, the echo ringing in the corridor, masking the sound of his fleeting footsteps.
****
Ok. Could have handled that better.
Much to his disbelief, Arthur is running. His heart is hammering a mile an minute, beating harshly in his ears and he can taste the sharp, bitter tang of blood from the cut on his lip. His tongue darts quickly to swipe over dry lips as Arthur dashes into his bedchambers and slams the door shut. He walks in, breathing harshly.
He mutters to himself, small guttural noises of frustration escaping his throat. He places both hands on his head as he paces the room like an agitated bear. "Merlin…"
Merlin's leaving. Merlinis leaving Camelot. Arthur usually would have no qualms with a manservant quitting or leaving their jobs, Arthur can always find another one. As long someone is there doing the job, it doesn't matter to Arthur who it is.
But today…
Arthur feels something akin to pain wallow deep within, choking him and ripping his heart to shreds. There is also a deep humiliation that he is feeling these emotions because of Merlin. Merlin! What is so special about Merlin that makes Arthur's chest wrench so painfully?
Arthur always thought Merlin was…well Merlin. There's no changing that. He is that bubbly, clumsy boy Arthur cannot help but admire for his optimism. And he is a friend. But that's it.
Right?
He sighs, rubbing a hand fiercely over his face and his eyes tiredly. Of all things to happen today this would have been the last on his list. Actually it wouldn't have even crossed his mind. The memory of Hunith crosses his mind and the overwhelming feeling of shame suffocates him. He couldn't even understand it! How could this have happened? Hunith was always healthy, well she had been the last time Arthur had seen her. The first time Arthur had met her, for the first time in his life he was jealous. Arthur, Prince Arthur who could have anything (absolutely anything!)he wanted, was envious of Merlin. Merlin had a mother, a mother who loved him dearly and unconditionally. Arthur would have done anything for that. Anything… and not to mention Hunith was likable. She was a sweet lady and Arthur couldn't help the swell of admiration form within him from just speaking to her. Merlin was lucky.
Merlin and his mother were always so close. She was all he had left. Now there's…no one. At least Arthur has his father and much to his chagrin, Morgana. She's always there for him when he needs it and he greatly appreciates it, even if she can be as annoying as hell. And smug about it too. But he cannot even being to fathom what Merlin must be feeling now and that alone is enough to bring another surge of guilt his way. So it's only natural that Merlin wants to be in the place where the memory of his mother is the strongest. Arthur probably would have wanted the same if his father had died. But then it's not the same, he'd still be in Camelot with everyone he knows and cares about.
With Merlin.
Because Arthur knows that when times are toughest, unbelievably the two always manage to stick it through. And in a weird way, Merlin has always helped him throughout the hard times. Always. So Arthur should do the same right?
But how does he help Merlin in a situation like this?
He pauses, frowning in thought before pacing again. He can't really. He can only be there for the boy and…support him? One of those things.
…
However that would mean letting Merlin go back to Ealdor. It's the right decision…it's what Merlin wants.
But it's not what Arthur wants.
Arthur stops, staring up from his feet into the distance. He strolls over to the large bay window, gazing out onto the city that will soon be his. Camelot. Merlin always said he'd make a good king, one with honour and loved by his people. Arthur thinks the idea looks bleak. How can he be a decent king if he cannot even deal with a simple problem like this one?
He wants to be a good king, a great one. A respectable king people will admire and look to if needed. He wants his people to shout his name in joy when he arrives from a battle; he wants them to be glad he's safe. He wants to rule Camelot with a firm hand and turn it into the greatest city people will ever see, a city travellers all alike would flock to see and admire. He wants the people to be happy. Arthur wants to be happy. He wants to show Merlin how his land grew, how the city has evolved into something spectacular and memorable. But most of all he wants to show Merlin how he'd become the great king Merlin always said he would be. He wants to rule with Merlin at his side smiling because he always knew Arthur was going to be a great king.
That is what Arthur wants most.
He wants Merlin…
Arthur blinks, staring at the setting sun which casts a pink glow across the clear, cloudless sky. He feels his heartbeat increasing and his bones aching. His skin is pricking and fingers twitching as he closes his eyes in realisation.
Fuck.
He is in love with Merlin.
"Merlin" Arthur mutters, eyes drifting opening. It is as if he is suddenly seeing for the first time, gazing at everything in a new light. Camelot, if possible, looks even more beautiful.
This isn't possible. He is obviously delirious. Probably from the fight, although it wasn't that bad, Arthur's had worst from hunting trips. But…it can't be…
His heart is palpitating wildly and there is a warm, pleasant feeling unfurling in his chest. Not to mention the stupid grin he can't seem to wipe from his face.
Nope. You're defiantly in love with him.
He loves Merlin. Merlin! Merlin his manservant. Merlin who trips over his own feet. Merlin with the sticky-out ears and the goofy smile which is annoyingly endearing. Merlin his friend. Merlin. Merlin. Arthur Pendragon is in love, yes love, with Merlin Emrys….
…who is also about to leave Camelot any second now…
"Oh fuck!" Arthur curses, darting as fast as humanly possible out of the door.
He prays he's solved his little conundrum in time. Because it would have all been for nothing if Merlin is gone.
The thought is enough to make his heart twist in agony.
"Merlin!" he cries, bursting through Gaius chambers. He is panting hard, chest heaving as he gulps much needed air. His running has awarded him with a few worried glances, none from anyone important. He's just thankful he hasn't been caught by his father. Try explaining to the king of Camelot that his son was running to express his undying love for a servant boy and hopefully convince him to stay in the city forever with him! Ok maybe not forever but the thought would be nice.
His eyes quickly search the chambers, slightly surprised to see it cleaned to back to how it was before their little…cough disagreement.
Arthur, confused, wanders though the room, unable to grasp how Merlin could fix this mess in such a space of time. But then an hour or two must have past since meeting. The sun was setting rapidly which each second along with Arthur's hope he had caught Merlin in time. He walks to the opposite side of the room where Merlin's room is located. The door is shut and Arthur cannot help the little flame of hope ignite within his chest, fluttering like a trapped bird. He is still breathing hard and his heart is hammering against his ribcage painfully. But he cannot stop now…
Arthur's hand closes over the doorknob as he pushes it forward and lets himself in. He is nervous, his palms sweating profusely. The door opens fully allowing full view of the room and-
Merlin! Merlin, he's here! Arthur has to restrain himself from jumping in triumph.
"Mer-Merlin," he wheezes, choking slightly on his tongue. He splutters and coughs, pushing his back straight to try and compose himself. Arthur's cheeks are aflame. The boy is sitting on the made bed, head rising when he realises someone has walked in. The room is unnaturally tidy and on the floor lays Merlin's pack with his belongings. Arthur suddenly feels a disdain towards the room. It feels empty without Merlin's touch to it. Maybe he can convince father to demolish it?
The boy looks up, realising it is Arthur who has walked in and his shoulders slump, looking away. "Sire," he greets voice clipped.
"Uh…Merlin," Arthur begins, closing the door behind him. He suddenly feels awkward. "Hello…"
Merlin looks at him in confusion before the corner of his lips quirk upwards slightly. It might have been a twitch but deep down Arthur wishes it was a smile.
"Hi?" he replies, slightly amused and unsure.
"You can't go," Arthur suddenly blurts out. Merlin frowns but is smiling slightly nonetheless. Probably from my stupidity, Arthur mentally grumbles.
"You came all the way down here to tell me that?"
Arthur mentally smacks himself, feeling like an idiot for his "grand opening". Merlin can sense his embarrassment and is smiling tiredly.
"Um…yes I did. You can't go," Arthur replies, a hue of pink mantling his cheeks.
"Why?"
…Why?
Crap…Arthur hasn't thought that far ahead. In his mind this was the scenario; he would burst in the room, high and mighty and cry "Merlin you can't leave Camelot!" And Merlin would smile and reply, "Ok Prince Arthur, the best prince in the whole of the world, I won't go." Then Arthur would sweep the boy in his arms for a soul wrenching kiss Merlin would faint from. The end.
Unfortunately it didn't seem things would be as easy in reality. Damn realism…
"Uh…W-Why?" the prince stutters slightly, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
Merlin nods.
"Yes. Why can't I leave?"
Arthur rolls his eyes, waving a hand dismissively and crossing his arms over his broad chest in an attempt to seem relaxed.
"Well…Because I…" he trails off, beginning to sweat. Quick! Think of something! Anything! "Because…" Because you're my friend! Because Camelot is your home! Because I love you! Dammit I love you Merlin!
"Because I said so!"
There is a silence in the room. Arthur bites his tongue, trying not to wince at the foolishness of the statement. Because I said so? It is the most ridiculous reason he has ever heard.
Merlin seems to agree.
"Because you said so?" he repeats incredulously. Arthur, against everything his head is screaming at him, nods slowly. Merlin frowns, obviously confused. "Wait…you want me to stay in Camelot because you said so?"
Arthur opens his mouth to say something, anything that might have been remotely constructive or intelligent. "Yes…because I said so." Very constructive Arthur.
"Arthur," Merlin begins, sighing. He looks away; all amusement he had once held vanished. "Sire I'm going. I…I can't stay here…you got to understand that."
The prince shakes his head quickly. "No, you're not going. That's an order"
In an odd sense, Arthur can't help feeling he's won the battle. A sudden triumphant glee settles in the pit of his chest, purring like a contented feline. After all, he is the prince of Camelot and whatever he wants, he gets. It's always been that way, ever since he was born, brought crying into the new world. And this was no different. It took a moment of studiously scrutinizing Merlin's confused and exasperated expression to realise how idiotic his reasoning really was.
"Um…sire?" Merlin started, picking nervously at the sleeve of his jacket. "I don't know how to break this to you but when I leave Camelot, technically, I don't actually have to obey your orders."
There is a brief silence in the room.
Only Merlin would have the guts to say something like that. And it makes Arthur want him even more.
The prince suddenly feels the rush of desire flood his veins, rendering him dizzy.
"Yes…" Arthur mutters, voice thick. "But…it's still an order."
Merlin looks away, suddenly beginning to ramble insistently, "I…I know but d-does it really matter? I mean you can always find another manservant…" Merlin swallows. Arthur watches his adam's apple bob in his long, pale throat and wants to kiss it. "It can't be that hard…can it?"
Arthur's eyes soften in pain at Merlin's reply. He shakes his head before realising Merlin can't see and speaks. "No…well yes I can find another manservant…but that's not the point."
He walks forward and Merlin rises to his feet, suddenly on guard. Arthur is saddened to see that Merlin feels defensive around him. He places his hands on the boy's shoulders and looks at him, just staring.
"You can't go…you can't leave Camelot."
He is serious, Merlin can tell. But it doesn't stop the small "Why?" escaping his throat.
"Because…" Arthur cannot run now. It's now or never. "Because Camelot is your home. I know…I know Ealdor is your home home but Camelot...Well everyone you know is here. And everything. Can you honestly leave that? What about Gaius and Gwen and Morgana? God knows they'll miss you."
Merlin is looking away, eyes cast downward. But Arthur doesn't stop, feeling the words bubbling and pour from his throat like a broken fountain.
"And they're your friends. They care for you."
Merlin doesn't look convinced and Arthur grits his teeth, blushing hotly. "I care for you."
That done it. Merlin looks up eyes wide in shock. Arthur refuse to look away, his eyes gazing into Merlin's harshly, trying to encourage him to listen.
"You are my friend, as painful as it is to admit. And yes, you are clumsy and you trip over absolutely everything and you are probably the worst manservant Camelot has ever had but you are my friend. You're perhaps my only friend…"
Arthur laughs nervously, trying to mask wave of sullenness washing over him at this one statement. He isn't sure if he's saying this for Merlin's sake or his own. Either way they both need to hear this.
"You're...I don't know why, but you're the only person whose faith in me has never wavered. You constantly encourage me even if the chances are slim. You're always there when others are not. Not even my own father is as close as you are to me and that is pathetic. But…" he trails off, closing his eyes momentarily and sucking in a deep breath. He opens them to see Merlin is still gazing at him, something flickering in his eyes Arthur cannot quite place. The look scares him slightly but also urges him to continue. "But…it's nice to have someone who believes in me…genuinely. And you need to stay so I can show you that I will be a great king…just like you say"
Merlin's eyes have softened. "Arthur," he speaks. The sound of his name being spoken so softly, like a whisper, sends electricity down the prince's spine as if someone is trailing a sparkling finger across it. His heart back flips. "You don't need to show me you're going to be a good king. I already know that."
"I know!" Arthur retorts. "I do know that but I want to. Somehow I want you, of all people, to see that I will be king of Camelot…although that's kind of inevitable but you know what I mean…right?" He is mumbling nonsense but it makes them both laugh.
Arthur is smiling, his hopes lifting ever so slightly. "Besides…" he begins, licking his chapped lips. "You know that only I can ever put up with you insistent clumsiness. I can guarantee that you'll accidentally stab yourself with something if I'm not around." He is grinning smugly. Merlin raises an eyebrow, pouting those luscious, strawberry lips.
"I hardly think that's fair," he replies and Arthur has to laugh at that.
"You know its true Merlin."
It's the first time since his little proclamation that Arthur has said the boy's name. The word rolls delicately from his tongue, sending tingles throughout his entire body. Merlin is looking at him strangely and Arthur cannot help but feel something has pass between them.
Arthur is gazing at him intensely. He wants to say something…anything but he isn't sure what. His fingers twitch slightly and Arthur realises he's still gripping Merlin's shoulders. But he doesn't pull away, his fingers curling against the rough fabric. The eye contact hasn't broken and Arthur licks his lips again.
"Merlin…" he mutters softly. Somehow they've edged closer to each other, only a few inches apart. Arthur's itching to pull them together, to run his hands through Merlin's soft, soft hair.
"Yes?" Merlin whispers, eyes vivid and sparkling. He is leaning forward ever so slightly, as if waiting for something, looking innocently coy, if such a feat was even achievable. His lips are red, those red, red, red lips Arthur suddenly wants to engulf within his own. He tries so explicably hard not to look at them.
"You're not leaving Camelot."
And with that, Arthur pulls Merlin into a fierce kiss.
Merlin's lips are dry, chapped slightly and Arthur thinks he must bite them a lot. But they're full and fit perfectly against his and Arthur wouldn't want it any other way. He isn't sure what to do, Merlin is just standing there stoic still, eyes flown wide open, shocked nonetheless. But Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, moving his lips ever so slightly against Merlin's. The boy seems to suddenly snap from whatever stupor he was in and much to Arthur's joy reciprocates, kissing the prince back with as much fervour. He brings his hands up; curling softly against Arthur's back and brings them impossibly closer. One of Arthur's hands runs through Merlin's hair, mussing it softly and Merlin can't help but lean into the touch. They are flush together, mouths pressed close, moving in sync with one another. Merlin doesn't know what to do with his hands, twitching ever so slightly at his sides and he brings one up, resting between Arthur's shoulder blades. The prince swipes his tongue across the other's lips, daring to probe further if Merlin will let him. The boy does so, his cheeks flaming suddenly at the hot feel of Arthur's slick, moist tongue lightly curling against his. The heat is unbearable and Arthur is almost convinced his mouth is on fire. But he loves every moment of it, mentally cursing for not doing this sooner. He doesn't want to think, his heart in overdrive but ridiculously happy and his stomach flipping and swooping, fluttering with butterflies.
After a moment they pull away, Arthur flushing hotly but smiling gently at the two spots of colour on Merlin's pale cheekbones. The boy isn't looking at him and Arthur can't help but feel the panic hit him.
"That…was different" Merlin begins. "I…I don't understand…"
Arthur can't speak, his throat tightening. Merlin is gripping his arms, hugging himself tightly while muttering out loud.
"I…Is this why you don't want me to leave?"
"Merlin," Arthur cuts in, bringing his hands to the boy's face and forcing Merlin to look at him. "Can't you see? Wasn't that enough to show you why I'm not letting you leave Camelot?"
Merlin is at a complete loss and Arthur sighs incredulously, sucking in a shaky breath.
"Merlin I'm in love with you! You idiot can't you see that?!"
There is a silence in the room and Arthur is staring at Merlin, hoping and wishing for an answer or a sign, for anything! But the boy is just standing there, still as a statue. Arthur resists the urge to throttle him, angry at the shock and more than a little worried he has given Merlin a heart attack. Arthur lets out a shaky breath, gazing away anxiously. "Merlin…say something," he mutters, trying to quell his trembling hands.
Merlin gasps slightly, eyes glittering. "You're in love with me…with me?"
Arthur rolls his eyes, a pained, embarrassed anger and trepidation bubbling. "Yes love! I'm in love with you. I thought that had already been established?"
"Me? ...Me-me…you're in love with me?" Merlin stammers in disbelief. His eyes are wide and mouth agape. Arthur looks away, slightly hurt at Merlin's astonishment.
"Yes…" he sighs, agitated. The embarrassment is consuming and a part of him wants so badly to run. His fingers twitch fretfully. "Yes…I love you…"
And much to Arthur's mortification, he begins mumbling nervously. "I know it's a shock and I was shocked myself when I realised it but I suppose the feelings must have been there for a while but I didn't even know they were there myself and…and…yes ok I get the fact that it's a shock Merlin but do you really have to stand there so surprised like that? It really is annoying and I understand if you don't return the feelings, I mean what with everything's that happened you must be confused, heck I'm confused!"
Arthur suddenly remembers the death of Merlin's mother and feels rather low for springing this so suddenly on the boy. Merlin has been through a lot today and this was the last thing he needed! But he can't stop himself from speaking, his mouth is on automatic and the panic is rising in his throat like bile.
"I shouldn't have told you, you must be really confused now but I really didn't want you to leave. I still don't want you to leave…"
He looks up, eyes wide and scarily vulnerable. "Merlin…you're not still leaving are you?"
Merlin looks like he wants to say something, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Arthur wants to smile at the sight but is halted when the other suddenly brings them together again, crushing their lips against each other almost painfully. After a moment of adjusting, mainly on Arthur's part, they kiss ferociously, hands fanning out everywhere, on cheeks, eyes, and tangled in hair. They stumble slightly, lips swollen and wet but just as Arthur is about to pull away, he feels something wet run down his cheeks. And again and again until an agonized sob escapes Merlin's lips and he realises the boy is crying.
"Merlin?"
Crap. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap! He's just made Merlin cry! Cry! This wasn't supposed to bloody happen! Not after a kiss!
Arthur pulls away, staring at Merlin in disbelief. "Merlin? Me-Merlin don't cry. Look I'm sorry, this was a mistake…I-I didn't mean to do this"
Arthur's voice is thick and he feels his throat tightening as the other is trying to wipe away the large tears rolling down his pale cheeks. He is shaking his head and Arthur tries to rise to leave. This was a mistake.
"N-No... No it's not you. Arthur…" Merlin chokes out; gripping the prince's jacket and pulling him back down onto the bed. Arthur falls back nearly losing balance and landing on the floor. Merlin chuckles, smiling through the tears. He isn't sobbing but just sitting there, looking defeated, tears streaming down his cheeks. He furiously tries to wipe them away. Arthur feels something swell within his chest, a protective instinct and he gently takes hold of Merlin's wrists, pulling them away from his face. He reaches up and wipes the tears away, surprisingly calm despite his racing heartbeat.
"Don't cry," Arthur softly chides, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. His fingers are carefully tracing Merlin's cheekbones, circling around the purple bruise he had put there earlier. Merlin is looking at him, gazing intently. Something is burning in his eyes, a strong emotion that makes Arthur uneasy. Suddenly the dark haired boy pulls them together in a fierce kiss. Arthur falls back onto the bed in shock from the sudden force, locked in the embrace until Merlin pulls away, pressing his face in the crook of Arthur's neck and lets out a shuddering breath. The prince blinks in surprise before he lets his arms circle around Merlin's frame, holding him tightly.
They lay there for a while until Arthur isn't sure what the time is or if the sun has already set or risen. It is silent in the room and he assumes Merlin has calmed down. He looks down to see the boy staring off into the distance, arms wrapped tightly around Arthur's waist. Arthur isn't sure what to do so he starts off from the top of his head.
"Are you ok?"
Merlin's eyes flicker up to his and linger there. He nods and to Arthur's relief, the forlorn look in his eyes is beginning to disappear. "I think so…I'm not sure…"
Arthur's eyes soften and his heart sinks down to the pit of his stomach, burning in pain. "I'm sorry," he mutters. Princes don't apologise. Arthur doesn't apologise. But now he needs to. Because there is nothing else to do. "I'm sorry for everything. For your mother, for the fight, yelling at you, springing this so suddenly on you..." he trails off.
Merlin shakes his head. "Don't apologise…there's nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault I'm such a bloody girl." He gives a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood but Arthur still looks distressed.
"Some of it is. Well most of it. And you're not a girl."
Merlin laughs quietly but Arthur pulls him tighter.
"Just…"Arthur whispers. "Just stay…"
Merlin's eyes are wide and sparkling, Arthur notices. Just like Gaius's potion. So pretty, like liquid sapphire.
"Ok," he replies, barely above a whisper.
No further words were needed.
****
Arthur isn't sure what to think when he awakes to find himself in somebody else bed. Ok so maybe he isn't exactly new to this scenario but it is odd to find that he is still dressed in yesterday's clothes. It is also weirder to find that his arms are curled almost possessively around-
Merlin.
Ah. Now he remembers.
Arthur lets the corners of his lips quirk up as he watches the boy sleep, mumbling incoherent words under his breath. His face is buried in Arthur's chest, arms slung around the prince's waist and their legs entwined together. Arthur doesn't mind though. He hasn't felt better.
He remembers yesterday, remembers his plea, kissing Merlin and declaring his love like a lovesick maiden. Arthur blushes, a finger gently curling around one of Merlin's dark strands of hair.
It doesn't matter though, what happened yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that or even the day before that. Only now.
Because Arthur's feeling mighty chuffed he's woken up with Merlin in his arms. Merlin stayed just like he asked and Arthur can't help but let his heart swell in joy.
It can't get any better than it is right now, so he decides to stop dwelling on the matter. There's nothing else to do or say, everything is finally and if not a little oddly perfect. Merlin seems to agree though, pulling Arthur impossibly closer and muttering his name quietly.
So he smiles.
End