AN: This is definitely not my best work, but it is the fulfillment of a prompt someone sent me a long time ago.
"So, are you ever going to thank me?"
"Thank you?" Arthur asked, "What for?"
The king and manservant were standing in the main courtyard. Arthur was simply trying to get to know his subjects. He approached anyone who did not look busy and had already bought several items from several stands in the market. Now, the sun was going down, and as he slowly returned to the castle, the people were approaching him instead. All day, Merlin had supported and encouraged him to spend the day in the bustling market; it had been his servant's idea in the first place. Arthur had simply wanted to stay in and celebrate with his closest circle of knights, but Merlin convinced him that celebrating with the people would be much better – and for once, Merlin was right. Arthur had greatly enjoyed himself, and now that he had spent his birthday with his people, he felt much closer to them.
"It's not like you gave me anything today!" Arthur continued.
"For everything I do for you, of course! I already give you so much, did I really have to get you anything besides myself today?" Merlin said with a cheeky grin. Arthur shot him a warning look. This was not the time or the place to even joke or elude about their affair. However, his fears were somewhat dampened as Merlin began to list: "Polishing your armor, attending to your sword, laying out and cleaning your clothes, making up your bed, cleaning your room, bringing you food, listening to you, talking to you, being your friend, oh, and my favorite, saving your life countless times."
"'Saving my life countless times'?" Arthur questioned.
"Well, yeah," Merlin shrugged. "Someone's got to."
"Excuse me?" Arthur exclaimed. He turned to look at Merlin, feeling his smile begin to stretch and become forced. He shook his head as he waited for Merlin to finish greeting an elderly woman. He greeted the woman himself, before demanding, "Give me an example then, hm?" when she walked away.
"Alright," Merlin turned to face the king. "Let me ask you this: how did I get this job in the first place?"
Arthur cleared his throat and leaned down to shake a young boy's hand. He exchanged a few lines with the boy's father about future knighthood and watched the boy's face light up as he skipped away. When he turned back to Merlin, Arthur spoke flatly. "So far, I can count."
"Time with the poison chalice?"
Arthur paused but replied, "Still counting."
"Those times you almost ate deadly herbs in Gaius' chambers?"
"Uh-huh…" Now Arthur was feeling the heat of a blush and definitely forcing the smile.
"That time you almost got crushed by a rock fall," Merlin said cheerfully as he waved at a friend across the way.
"I'm remembering now," Arthur spoke through gritted teeth, hinting that Merlin had made his point.
But Merlin wasn't really listening to the king; he had forgotten himself a bit in the banter. "Oh, and in all those battles," Merlin stated, squinting into the dying sun as if the number of occasions was too much to count.
"What battles?" Arthur squawked bewildered, he spun to face Merlin. "I think you need to have your head checked, Mer-lin! I'm the one saving your useless hide in battle!"
Merlin closed his eyes and mentally slapped himself. He shouldn't answer; he couldn't answer.
He answered: "You don't know how many times you were almost beheaded from behind or struck by an arrow, but I knocked the man out or redirected its path." Merlin tried to keep his voice light and not serious. Hopefully, Arthur would think this was just a joke. He hugged another friend of his to avoid looking Arthur in the eye.
"You?" Arthur scoffed. "Knock a man out? And without my knowing!" He started to laugh and relaxed. His smile became a bit less faked. He went to shake another elderly woman's hand and was unexpectedly drawn into an embrace. "Sometimes I need reminding why I like you Merlin," Arthur replied. "Thank you for your humor."
For some reason, the king's comment greatly upset Merlin. Feeling almost insulted, Merlin snapped, "Why do I even worry? It's not like you listen." Embarrassed immediately, he ducked his head avoided any gaze.
Arthur was shocked by Merlin's tone and vexed that he had snapped in public. The king had become accustomed to Merlin speaking his mind, but in public, while trying to become more familiar with the people, the outburst was far from welcome.
"I'm trying to tell you something hugely important, but all you can do is scoff," Merlin continued, under much more control.
Suddenly, Arthur had the feeling that he needed to get Merlin out of public. The king did not want to have this conversation and especially not with so many subjects watching. He said goodbye to the nearby people trying to talk to him and dragged his servant inside the castle walls to a little-used corridor.
"What is your problem?" he hissed, resisting the urge to push Merlin against the wall.
"My problem is that you refuse to listen to me," Merlin answered simply.
He shrugged and tried to turn away. Arthur clapped a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. "Well, I'm listening now," he hissed. "Would you like to go on?"
Merlin really didn't. Instead, he picked the best action he could think of to distract Arthur: he kissed him. To his surprise, Arthur responded. Quickly, however, Arthur broke away, stepped back and turned around.
"I'm sorry," Merlin said quickly, and awkwardly. However, the longer he watched Arthur's small panic, the more upset he became. Venomously, he added, "The situation just seemed so familiar."
"I don't know what came over me," Arthur replied before he heard Merlin's amendment. When he realized what it was, he stonily said, "I should punch you for that."
"Well, I'm glad you didn't," Merlin laughed. Arthur turned around again with a warning clearly written on his face. Merlin sighed angrily and said by way of explanation, "You still have feelings for me." Arthur's face hardened into a glare. "No," Merlin emphasized. "No, you can't hide behind Gwen when you know I'm with you more often than she is."
"You're my servant; of course, you are!" Arthur shouted. He stared Merlin down for a long moment, then walked away with a huff, saying something about a meeting with the knights and a long, hard list of chores for Merlin. The servant knew that there was no meeting, and Arthur knew that half of the chores were already done. Regardless, Arthur walked briskly in the direction of the great hall, leaving Merlin to stand against the yellow stone of the corridor wall.
Cursing himself for his sudden brashness, Merlin caught up to Arthur and said, "I'm sorry, sire, that was out of line. I should learn to hold my tongue."
"Yes, servant, you should," Arthur responded coldly. He stopped and looked at Merlin to quietly say, "I have a queen, Merlin. What does that tell you?"
Merlin shook his head to the side and said, "I'm going to start practicing that holding my tongue thing right now, sire."
"What is it, Merlin?" Arthur turned angrily again and continued walking.
Rolling his eyes at his own stupidity, Merlin dashed after the king again, stopped in front of him, and said low, "It tells me that you're too scared to be yourself, and turning away tells me that you are still hiding even from me." Then Merlin spun on his heel and ran off in any direction that was far from Arthur. He found himself in the armory, taking his revenge by crudely sharpening all of the swords.
Later in the evening, Arthur found himself sitting at his desk, attempting to draw up a speech for the oncoming banquet with another monarch, but all he could think about was the banquet that should have been taking place that night. He sighed heavily, set down his quill, and walked over to the large window. Leaning against its stone frame, he thought back to the last hour he had spent with Guinevere. She hadn't said anything. She hadn't remembered. Once he realized she had forgotten, Arthur was not surprised by the lack of a birthday celebration. Merlin knew he preferred small parties in his chambers with only the knights, but Arthur had called that celebration off, thinking that Gwen would have prepared a large feast.
Thinking about the stark differences between his relationship with Merlin and Guinevere made Arthur restless. Finally, he threw his quill down and paced the windows. Leaning against the cool, rough stone of the wall, looking out the window, he despondently could not be awed by the sight beautiful sight that usual calmed him, Camelot under the brilliant whitewash spell of the moon; rather, tonight, it only depressed him further, appearing gloomy, shadowed, unwelcoming, alienating. Engrossed in his melancholy, he was unaware of Merlin's silent entrance to make up the bed for the night. In contrast, the first thing Merlin noticed was Arthur, and he could not help himself but to approach.
"Still mad?" Merlin asked softly.
"No," Arthur sighed, barely surprised by Merlin's appearance.
"I figured you could use a friend." The servant sat on the window ledge, looking up at the king hopefully.
"Really? And why this time?"
"Because it is your birthday, yet no one seems to have remembered."
"You remembered," Arthur stated. "You've remembered all day."
"Of course."
"Gwen did not."
"I'm sorry."
"Sometimes it's as if you have magic, Merlin," Merlin shifted uncomfortably and hung his head, "knowing what to say and when to say it." Merlin sighed in subtle relief. Arthur had a way of ignorantly dancing around the subject as if he knew everything and nothing at the same time, and it constantly kept Merlin on edge.
After a silence, Arthur asked, "What was it, Merlin, that you had to tell me earlier? You claimed it was important. I'm sorry that I did not take you seriously. I should have."
Merlin picked his head up to look at Arthur and found Arthur's face hanging inches from his. He dropped his head, uncomfortable again.
"Well, come on," Arthur prompted, lifting Merlin's chin with two fingers and leaning closer still.
"Uh…" Merlin balked. This could be it. This was his moment to tell Arthur. Right now, while he was adoring Merlin, not angry at Merlin. "I…" Something was holding him back. It wouldn't be right to say something while Arthur was vulnerable. Besides that, it could have horrible consequences the next day. Merlin couldn't say anything. Yet.
"It actually wasn't that important," Merlin told Arthur. He turned his head away and moved away on the sill.
"Okay then," Arthur said completely confused and a bit disappointed. "If you don't want to say anything, it's fine."
Arthur took the opportunity to sit down next to Merlin. After yet another silence, he said, "Enough of this. I need to know why you think that you've saved my life in battle so many times!" Arthur had, with much effort, turned his voice to joking. Merlin could sense the effort that it took, but the question was too serious to be taken lightly. It was, of course, linked to what Arthur just called for enough of.
But Merlin could not take the secrecy anymore.
"Because I have," Merlin answered, his voice grave. He grew a new resolve, and it stopped his nervous twitching, though he still would not look at Arthur; he was steeling himself.
"But how, Merlin?" Arthur exclaimed, aiming for a laugh. "You can hardly raise a sword!"
Merlin took a deep breath and whispered his answer beyond Arthur's hearing. Of course, he was told to repeat himself:
"Magic."
"Excuse me?"
"Magic," Merlin repeated himself again, this time in a strong voice. His gaze was still trained on the floor.
"Merlin, I don't understand. What did you say?" Arthur asked standing up incredulous. Instinctively, he took a step back, away.
"I said, 'magic.' I can do magic. I've saved your life countless times over with magic." Merlin followed Arthur had trapped him against the wall as he spoke, feeling the irony.
"I don't believe you," Arthur said slowly. "I can't believe you. I won't believe you!"
"Why not?" Merlin asked, a bit aggressively yet overwhelmingly sad. He did not whimper or complain.
"Because if I did," Arthur said, pushing his face into Merlin's, enunciating each word carefully, "I would have to have you executed."
"But can't you see, Arthur? I'm not evil. I'm far from it! Magic is a gift. Some people may choose to abuse it and use it for the worst possible, most horrible deeds, but I cherish it. I use it as it should be used. I use it for good. For your good."
"You don't have a gift, Merlin." Arthur sneered the word. "All magic is evil. I hope you realize that before you hurt someone."
"But it's not, Arthur." Merlin was pleading now.
The men were still against the wall. Arthur standing against it, Merlin holding him there with one palm pressed against it. They were leaning into each other, searching one another. Finally, Merlin could not take the intensity. He moved again to side of the windowsill farthest from Arthur, where he sat with his head in his hands. Arthur watched him, seeing only Merlin and Merlin's words floating around his head, especially, 'magic'. The word was practically big, black, and bold, balancing across Merlin's shoulders.
Arthur saw Merlin's throat twitch as he swallowed hard. Very softly, the servant asked, "Are you looking out the window?" Looking up at Arthur's face, he added, "You really should."
Arthur could see tear lines on his cheeks, but no water in his eyes. With a deep breath, Arthur obeyed and lost that breath as he did. In the sky, brilliant fireworks were whizzing and popping. Though the display was a beautiful array of colors, most were shades of red and orange, for Camelot Arthur assumed, and blue, because it was his favorite color. There was no pause between explosions, yet no two exploded at the same time and no two took the same shape. Each was meant to be individually adored. Arthur turned again to look at Merlin. The servant's eyes were wide and filled with sadness and love.
Arthur's voice was a rough whisper as he said, "Your eyes. They're changing color."
"I know," Merlin answered quietly.
"Every time a firework goes up, your eyes flash orange but then change back to blue," Arthur stated.
"I know," Merlin repeated in the same tone.
"Merlin…" Arthur's voice failed.
"Merlin," he tried again with better resolve, "are you doing this?"
"Yes," Merlin answered. "I am."
"You're doing magic," Arthur confirmed.
"Yes, Arthur, I am."
"Merlin, please, no." Arthur was almost crying.
"Arthur… I am the greatest warlock ever to live… and I love you."
"But Guinevere. And my father. And the law… Merlin, we can't be together. I told you why. You can't be a sorcerer, and that you definitely know why."
"Right now, Arthur, I don't care. I've hidden myself for too long. It's time one of us was honest."
Arthur looked into Merlin's hazel and blue eyes and saw all the truth in the world. He stared out the window again, mentally wrestling with himself. Merlin, assuming the discussion was over and his fate was sealed, went back to the bed to finish his duty, figuring it would be the last chore he ever completed for Arthur before either being executed or exiled.
"I'll go pack my stuff then," Merlin told the bed as he worked hastily. "Whatever your decision, it'll make tomorrow easier. Either I'll leave with it, or Gaius can just throw the whole sack into the flame when I'm done with."
"Leave it."
"Excuse me, sire?"
"Don't bother with the bed, and certainly don't pack up your stuff." Suddenly Arthur's breath was hot on Merlin's neck. "It's about to messed up again anyway."
Merlin turned around in confusion and found himself in Arthur's arms. Despite the situation, he smiled, feeling at home. Arthur apparently had the same idea. He gently kissed Merlin and pushed him onto the bed, whispering, "I agree."
"With what?" Merlin asked startled.
"Not hiding from each other. I love you."