You'll Be In My Heart
Arthur didn't know what to do, or say, as the little boy smiled up at him; his grin wide and mocking, as if he knew Arthur was absolutely clueless. His eyes were the same dark, beautiful blue back then as they were now and it shocked Arthur; to see all the unconditional love and trust that used to be in Merlin's eyes.
Not that Merlin wasn't already an overly trusting, naive, fool because that he was. It was just different, to see Merlin's eyes as a child, now that he had something to compare Merlin's eyes to, it made him see that his manservant, friend, was holding so much of himself back. Hiding, protecting his true, loving self that would get him beaten and killed in a place like Camelot.
Love and weakness were considered one in his father's court. It hurt him to think that Merlin, his stupid, incompetent, kind, loving, affectionate servant, no, friend, was hiding so much of himself from him. Arthur thought he knew Merlin. Said man, no, child, giggled and wobbled over and latched onto Arthur's leg.
Merlin smiles up at him, his eyes curious and questioning and seemed to ask Arthur, "Will you play with me?" Arthur looks away, his cheeks blushing red as he notices how tight Merlin is hugging him, but the boy's grip just gets tighter.
He wonders where his Merlin is. His Merlin with his sarcastic comments and absolute inability to listen to orders. Just then little Merlin, as Arthur began to think of him; hits his thigh with an impatient, small fist. Arthur indignant, lets out a surprised shout, which sends little Merlin to tears, his big, bright blue eyes filling.
The shock of seeing little Merlin finally hits him, but not as harsh and strong as the pain that came with the being the reason for Merlin's tears. "Oh, no, no. Merlin…" The boy flinches away from him and huddles against the wall, small and afraid.
Something inside Arthur breaks; the pure terror on little Merlin's face is real and he feels his heart tear. Arthur slumps down the wall a distance away from Merlin. "I'm sorry I shouted, little one." He whispers, remembering the endearing term his favorite nurse had once called him.
Arthur hangs his head, a sob racks his body because he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know how to change Merlin back; he doesn't know how to save him. But most of all, he wishes Merlin were here, to call him a prat, and tell him what to do. He sort of misses the idiot.
The guilt is the worst, the burning feeling of it in his chest and throat that he is the reason Merlin is the way he is now. All because he wanted to show off his hunting skills in front of Merlin by trying to kill that damn unicorn. Arthur has not been this upset since his last birthday; also the anniversary of his mother's death.
That day always belonged to her. The castle would be quiet and the servants would whisper in dark corners of the beauty and kindness of their former queen. Uther would be in a worse mood than usual, dressed in black; with a temper darker still. And Arthur would remain in his chambers alone as he had done for the past twenty three years. Before Merlin came that is.
Merlin is an oblivious idiot after all. He had come in, loud and cheery that day with enough food for an entire garrison. Arthur had tried to give him a day off, he did! But Merlin persisted, telling him he was not by any means, going anywhere. He had then proceeded to give Arthur a gift. Arthur might have been slightly prattish; because really who gave someone a sheath without a sword!
His friend had then told him that he had carved the intricate designs on it himself and that his gift was also a lesson. To be less of a prat, he had said. Arthur had raised his eyebrows at that, but he had thanked Merlin anyway, and had used the sheath and only that sheath everyday onwards.
Arthur grips the sheath in his hand, feeling the intricate markings worn down from all the times Arthur had swept his hands over it; tracing them. He remembers the next moment clearly, Merlin had leant close and hugged Arthur to him, whispering a soft, "Happy Birthday, Arthur."
Which led to Arthur sobbing into his arms, the future king of Albion's hands fisted tight in his manservants clothes. "Where is she, Merlin?" Arthur had sobbed, the torn ragged sound ripping through his throat. Merlin had smoothed his hair, running his soft, gentle fingers through his hair, palms caressing his tear streaked cheeks.
"I'm not sure Arthur," Merlin had whispered, and as Arthur began to pull away, beginning to shove Merlin away, his friend just hugs him tighter to himself. "Though I know it may not seem like much, Arthur, I know that a part of her is always in your heart."
Merlin held Arthur through the night, the warmth of their bodies warming each other and their hearts and souls; nothing more. Neither of them dared to shatter the fragile existence they had already carved for themselves.
"Merlin." Arthur sobs, and covers his face with his hands. He suddenly feels small hands combing through his hair, and Arthur doesn't dare to believe. He dares to chance a glance, and sees little Merlin smiling at him, his small, cool palms on Arthur's heated, wet cheeks.
This is all too familiar. He pulls Merlin's small, five year old body to him and sobs into his small shoulder. Those hands continue to play with Arthur's hair, and pat his cheeks, all the while Arthur is holding him, whispering, muttering, sobbing; "Merlin."
Merlin.
"Arthur."
Arthur lifts his head off of the child's shoulder, only to see his Merlin smiling back at him; the walls in his eyes makes Arthur let out a long wail as he grips his love tighter. "You're back. Merlin. You've come home for me."
Merlin chuckles tightening his grip on Arthur as he pulls him to the bed, tucking him into the sheets. He leans down for one last stroke of his king's cheek as he whispers. "No, Arthur. You brought me home." Arthur watches the walls fall from Merlin's eyes, and a tear escapes his eye; Merlin notices and leans in, hesitant, to kiss Arthur's forehead.
Arthur pulls Merlin on top of him, his arms circling his waist; Arthur whispers against Merlin's hair. "How?"
Merlin chuckles, struggling to get up to look at Arthur's face as he replied. "The unicorn was teaching you a lesson. You shed tears for someone other than yourself. You're selfless now." He says simply.
"Why is everyone trying to teach me a lesson! And I have shed tears for someone else! That time on my birthday…" Arthur blushes, embarrassed about the way Merlin had to hold him. "Maybe because you have a lot to learn, Sire."
Arthur raises his eyebrows at him, but he continues. "You were crying for your mother, yes. But it was out of pity for yourself, Arthur. It wasn't for her missed chance at getting to know you, you don't prize yourself enough. Instead you cried for your lost chance to know her."
Arthur's face is flushed with shame, but Merlin just encircles Arthur's neck with his hands and brings his face closer to his. "You are worthing knowing, Arthur." Merlin falters, blood rushing into his cheeks and ears. "You're worth loving."
Neither knows who starts it, but soon both their lips meet, soft and gentle with the other; as if both were worried the other would break.
"Merlin, where is my mother?"
Merlin smiles at his king, affectionate, as he replies. "She'll be in your heart Arthur, always."
Arthur nods and brings Merlin's lips to his own again, and he whispers softly into his lovers lips. "So will you, little one."