No regrets

Fandom: Merlin (BBC)

pairings: Merlin/Arthur

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: None

Summary: "Somewhere down the line you've become important to me. I have never met anyone quite like you, Merlin. I doubt that I ever will meet anyone like you." His tone was uncertain as he looked up at Merlin. "I don't want to lose you."

A/N: What better way to start the new year than a Merlin slash fic?

Burning.

Everything around Arthur was burning. Angry orange flames licked at the stone walls of his chambers, the tapestry's edges curled in the heat before disintegrating into ash. They rose higher and higher, the heat searing his flesh and making his eyes stream with tears. He could swear that he heard the moans and screams of dying men in the crackling of the flames as they ate through his large table and chairs.


Merlin was somewhere in the swirling mess of fire, Arthur knew. His heart was in his throat and a well of desperation and terror grew in him until he could hardly think straight. The black smoke that scorched the back of his throat and his lungs wasn't helping any.

He tried to open his mouth and call out Merlin's name, call for the guards to help, anything, to get to Merlin and drag him to safety. No sound came. He tried again, but still nothing. We were powerless to do anything. What if Merlin was unconscious from breathing the acrid smoke? What is he was-What if he was burning alive?

But he knew.

Deep down he knew he was already too late. Merlin would have been burnt alive, ashes left to scatter in the air, dancing on the flames swept from the embers.

He had failed Merlin. Failed him and now Arthur was left with nothing but broken promises and what-ifs.

Arthur's harsh scream woke him from the nightmare and he sat up in his bed, gasping Merlin's name and shaking uncontrollably. His golden hair was plastered to his forehead with his sweat and the bed sheets were tangled around his legs and waist. His eyes were wild as they darted around his darkened chambers; relief washing over him like a physical force as he saw everything was as it should be. No burning, no black smoke, no death.

A shadow detached itself from his open door and Arthur made out the small lean form of his manservant making his way to his bedside. Shafts of moonlight from the window slid over Merlin's concerned features and his vibrant eyes glittered with turbulent emotions that Arthur felt pained to discern one from the other. He wasn't too sure if it was the pale glow that made Merlin look so white or whether it was Arthur who had caused it.

"Sire? Are you alright?" Came Merlin's soft voice, trembling in its uncertainty.

Arthur drew in a deep breath through his nose and let it out nosily. "Yes, Merlin. I'm fine." This was one of those times where Arthur wished that Merlin couldn't read him like an open book. The memories of the dream were too near for comfort. He still felt intense heat from the flames on his skin, still felt the hopeless terror of losing Merlin to it. He didn't want to appear so weak to him. It was unsupportable.

Merlin grimaced, clearly disbelieving Arthur's words and opened his mouth to say so but Arthur quickly cut him off. "Did one of the servants send you? Did they tell you I was having dreams?"

Merlin's mouth closed with a soft click and his face clouded over. Arthur watched with confusion as Merlin looked like he was fighting some internal battle. Finally, he shook his head. "No, I-" He let out a soft breath and came closer until his legs touched the side of the bed. "I felt it."

Arthur's eyebrow rose in puzzlement. "You felt it?"

"I don't know how to explain it," Merlin said sheepishly. "I felt you in pain and it woke me up. I had to see you were okay." His eyelashes lowered over his eyes and Arthur watched on with fascination.

He was silent for a moment, scrutinising Merlin's face for any falsehood. For Merlin to 'feel' what he was going through was on the uncomfortable side of unknown territory. Unknown magical territory. The revelation should have surprised him more then it did. Shock him, even. But it didn't. In fact, it fitted. Merlin had a certain knack for knowing when Arthur was in need of help or a friend.

He should be calling for the guards to arrest Merlin. It was what his father would have wanted him to do, told Arthur it was his duty to protect Camelot. But the very thought of doing such a thing repulsed him, made his hands clench in the sheets with a feeling he had never felt before.

Merlin watched him with an open and calm expression. He was expecting something from Arthur. Expecting what, he didn't know. Was he expecting Arthur to take up his sword? Arthur licked his dry lips and smiled weakly. "Only you, Merlin." He said fondly. "I'll be okay. You don't have to worry about me."

Merlin's lips tilted upwards and Arthur figured he had said the right thing. "Of course I have to worry about you. You're Arthur." The smile slipped slightly and Merlin shifted from foot to foot. "You never told me you had nightmares."

Arthur ducked his head, staring down at his fingers tangling in the fabric at his waist. "It's only the once. I probably ate too much cheese at the feast. I hear it does strange things when you sleep. Evokes weird dreams."

Merlin snorted and folded his arms in front of his chest. "You know that's a lie. You've been having nightmares for weeks now."

Arthur didn't have the strength to argue. "It will pass." He murmured evasively.

The bed dipped underneath Merlin's weight. "Are they all the same? The dreams, I mean."

Arthur nodded hesitantly. "It will pass." He said again. He wasn't sure if he was trying to persuade Merlin or himself.

Merlin was quiet for a moment. "What are the dreams about?"

Before Merlin had entered the room, he had promised himself to never tell Merlin. It would have been a difficult conversation, to say the least. It was his problem. Watching Merlin be so selfless for him, so utterly careless of his own life, had obviously taken it's toll on Arthur's subconscious.

Now, faced with Merlin's beseeching eyes, he felt the overwhelming urge to just let it all out. "There's a fire in my chambers. It eats everything in its path, burning so quick there isn't enough time to save anything. I'm standing by the door and you're- you're somewhere in the room, in the fire, and I can't save you." Did he really sound like that? So broken?

"Your dreams are about me dying?" Merlin asked, bewilderment in his voice.

"Yes," and for the first time since Merlin had sat on the bed, Arthur looked at him. Really looked at him, like he had never seen him before. What was it about his manservant that made him feel like he was falling?

Arthur looked like he was struggling with trying to express what he felt before he finally let out a weary sigh, "I don't know when it happened, but somewhere down the line you've become important to me. I have never met anyone quite like you, Merlin. I doubt that I ever will meet anyone like you." He paused for a moment, seemingly fighting with himself, before he added onto his words, his tone uncertain and almost halting as his eyebrows drew together, "I don't want to lose you."

Merlin reached out for his hand and Arthur's fingers automatically twined with Merlin's. "You're not going to lose me," Merlin insisted, his grip on Arthur's hand tightening, "You're never going to lose me. I will still be dressing you in the morning and calling you a royal prat until we're old and grey."

Arthur laughed weakly, the image in his mind's eye warming him.

"That's my promise to you." Merlin said solemnly, maintaining eye contact. "You can't live fearing for the future. You have to live in the present. Grab life with both hands and hold onto it. That way, if you die on the battlefield or in a fire, you will have no regrets."

Arthur thought over the words. Live in the present. Grab life with both hands. No regrets. Could he do it? Was that what his dream was telling him?

Arthur squeezed Merlin's hand. "Thank you." He had never meant those two little words to mean so much before.

Merlin smiled softly. "You are very welcome. You will be all right now? Do you want me to stay with you?"

His automatic response of 'go back to bed' was already on his tongue but he stopped himself.

No regrets.

Arthur pulled the covers up as an invitation for Merlin to slide in. "Stay with me."

Merlin didn't even hesitate. He toed off his boots before slipping in beside Arthur. Arthur pulled the covers up around the both of them. It should have been awkward, but they were both comfortable with each other. Comfortable enough for Arthur to sling his arm around Merlin's narrow waist and hug him to his chest.

"You should eat more. I can feel your spine pressing in to me. It's rather disconcerting, actually." Merlin could hear the teasing smile in his voice without having to turn around and look.

"I can't help it if the meagre portions from the kitchen isn't as large as the portions of the Prince of Camelot. Us servants have to put up with such prejudice."

"Idiot."

"Prat."

"Good night, Merlin."

"Goodnight, Arthur."

End.