Tears streamed silently down Arthur's face, creating a pool of the salty fluid in a small niche in his pillow. The cause of his tears, the young warlock, slept soundly by his side. Not knowing that the man he loved was spilling tears over him. Arthur stayed as silent as possible, but he could not help but shudder as each wave of utter desperation hit him. He could not stop the flow of tears, could not draw in enough air so that he might breathe though the hurt, at least for now. He wanted to halt the pain, the tears, and the desperation. He wanted to let it all out when he was alone. He could not bare to let Merlin see his tears, to see him cry. Not over something so trivial. Not over him. Of course things never go as Arthur wishes them to. Merlin was soon awoken by the erratic, excruciatingly obvious pain that Arthur was in. He awoke, and he stared on in disbelief as a steady river of silent tears fell down Arthur's pale cheek. He listened to the silence, which was broken only by the occasional chocked moan that escaped Arthur's forcibly sealed lips. Merlin found himself so unusually lost in Arthur's pain, that he found he could not reach out to comfort his lover. He wanted to, oh how he wanted too, but he found that his arm was pinned to his side, his body frozen in place. Never before had Merlin felt a pain as deep, as agonizing as he felt now, in not being able to comfort Arthur. In not being able to ask him what the cause of his tears was, in not being able to tell him that no one was worth his tears. It took all his strength to force out the words that so callously stuck in his throat.
"Arthur..." it was barely even a whisper, and Merlin was sure that it went unheard, even ignored! But then Arthur furiously wiped his eyes, and turned to face Merlin with a smile that tried so very hard to convince the warlock that nothing at all was wrong. He was the crown prince of Camelot. He did not cry, he did not show his emotions! He was far too strong for such foolishness.
"Merlin!" Arthur cried happily. "Good to see you awake at such an early hour! I take it you wish to start your duties now?" he continued with a seductive wink. Merlin simply frowned, didn't even throw at Arthur one of his usual cheeky retorts.
"You're crying," Merlin whispered, reaching up to place a warm hand on Arthur's still damp cheek.
"No! Of course I wasn't. Merlin you must be going blind as well as being increasingly thick," Arthur snapped. Who the hell did Merlin think he was, accusing his master (and lover) of such a stupid notion as crying!
"No man is worth your tears Arthur. You said that to me once," Merlin whispered, probing himself up on his elbows. Arthur laughed.
"I am not crying Merlin, and I most certainly never cry over a man," he snorted, turning away from Merlin in sheer resentment.
"Have I done something sire?" Merlin asked uneasily. Had he done something? Had he said something hurtful without meaning to, or even realising?
"You're certainly not worth my tears!" He grumbled into his pillow. Merlin laughed.
"I said that to you once, remember? Who knew that you would be the only one worthy of such a reaction. " Merlin joked.
"You are not the cause of this!" Arthur cried out, turning round so that he could glare at his manservant. Merlin frowned and placed a reassuring hand on the young Pendragon's shoulder.
"You can tell me Arthur," he whispered. Arthur opened his mouth, ready to cry out an endless stream of abusive nonsense, when he caught sight of Merlin's heartbroken expression. He knew then that he had to tell Merlin what was wrong. He was hurting him simply by being in such pain. He could not bare that!
"You almost died." He paused to take in Merlin's bemused expression. "For me." He paused again; the words that were to follow were more painful for him that he would care to admit. "Every day you risk your life. Every day you face the threat of death and execution, all for me. I cannot stand that Merlin... I'm terrified that you might die because of me! I am not worth that!" And then they came. The agonising sobs that consumed Arthurs entire being to the point where he had no control over what he was doing. For minutes, maybe longer, Merlin allowed him to weep. To release everything inside him that was hurting, to get out all that he was holding in.
"Arthur, you fool. Do not worry for me. I am only doing what I am destined to do – protect you until you can become the great king you are fated to be!" He whispered with a sweet smile. "I would willingly give my life for you, many times over. Just as I know you would gladly give your life for mine," Arthur smiled ever so slightly, but let another silent tear fall.
"I don't want you to risk your life for me," he whispered. "I love you too much to see you die on my behalf," Merlin simply laughed, but it was not a harsh cruel laugh, a compassionate laugh, a laugh of understanding.
"You're such a Prat," he chuckled, pulling Arthur in for a sweet kiss.