Notes: Hey guys, it's been a while. Haven't written anything in so long, but this thing just came naturally, thanks to the amazing people of tumblr. This scene had to be written.
x.
"You should probably rest," Arthur says quietly. Merlin glances at Arthur, who's sitting by the fire, a goblet in his hand, staring into the licking flames. "You were dying after all." Merlin doesn't answer at first, taking Arthur's coat, thrown on the bed like an afterthought, and puts it into the armoire.
"I feel fine," Merlin replies, voice equally quiet, as if both of them are too afraid to talk too loud. The grief is palpable around them, everywhere in the castle. The knights are mourning the loss of Lancelot and Merlin stayed by Gwen's side until all of her tears had dried out and she had finally fallen asleep. Merlin can see the guilt across Arthur's face, the knowledge that Lancelot took his vow to the grave, and it's making him looking older than he is.
"I don't remember blacking out," Arthur says, voice lost, and he stands up, putting down the goblet on the table. Merlin stills and just stares into the armoire, both hands freezing on the linen he was about to take out. "The Cailleach was willing to sacrifice me, so I don't understand why she would attack me."
Merlin doesn't say anything.
He hears Arthur walking up to stand behind him, but Merlin doesn't turn around to face him. "There was a moment, right after I woke up, when I thought you might've actually done it," Arthur says.
Merlin exhales. "I should probably change the bedsheets," he replies, because he can't think of anything better to say. His mouth feels dry.
Arthur's voice is very close. "Merlin, are you listening to me?"
"Yes," Merlin whispers, because how can he not listen to everything Arthur says to him? Everything he does is for Arthur, everything he lives for, his need to protect Arthur, this future king, from all the horrors of the world. Merlin turns around to face Arthur. The prince's face is shadowed, the only light coming from the fireplace and the few candles Merlin lit. "I'm listening to you."
"I thought, just for a moment, that you sacrificed yourself to save my life," Arthur says, "and then I saw you, and I realized what Lancelot had done." Arthur exhales loudly, running a hand across his face, eyes wild. "And I feel ashamed to say it, but I was relieved. I was relieved, because at least that meant you were alive."
"Arthur," Merlin sighs.
"What kind of a person does that make me?" Arthur asks, sounding angry at himself. "What kind of a person feels relief for another man's death?" For a moment Arthur looks so broken, as if he has done some great, horrible injustice, and Merlin does not like that look on his face at all.
"Stop it," Merlin hisses, suddenly feeling angry as well, gripping Arthur's arms hard. "Stop punishing yourself for this."
Merlin's angry, because he recognizes that look in Arthur's eyes, that thought Merlin knows Arthur has, the thought that Arthur would gladly do it all over again, let Lancelot sacrifice himself, because it would mean Merlin wouldn't have to do die. Merlin knows. Because he has felt it so many times before. This constant and dangerous feeling to do anything for Arthur. He has dreamt of it, his magic cutting down and destroying people who dare to try and take Arthur away from him, who dare to try and hurt him.
Arthur looks down at Merlin's hands gripping him and Merlin suddenly realizes what he's doing, and how close they are. "I would've done it you know, I would've given myself over to the Cailleach," Arthur says, looking at Merlin, staring him down, as if he's challenging him.
"I know," Merlin nods, because he understands better than Arthur might think. "So would I."
Arthur looks at him, his eyes widening slightly, as if they've suddenly come to the same conclusion, that one of these days this irresponsible need to protect each other and die for one another might be the undoing of both of them. And Arthur leans in slightly, his eyes suddenly very dark, and Merlin waits for the moment he knows will never come, because surely Arthur must realize as well that they don't need to make things more difficult, even if Merlin wants it, wants it so badly.
"You should go," Arthur says, voice hoarse, taking a step back, eyes flickering away from Merlin's face. "You're dismissed for the night."
And Merlin nods slowly, breathing out, and heads for the door, wondering if this aching in his chest will ever get any lighter.