Note: I finally finished season two the other day, and that line caught my attention. I can't find a place to watch anything past season two, so if any of this completely defies canon, I apologize. As stated in the summary, I am a Merlin/Arthur shipper, and while this did turn out a bit slashy (I knew it would starting out), this is meant to be Arthur reflecting on Merlin and their friendship, and relationship as servant and master. This is the first time I've written Merlin fanfiction so hopefully it's not too terrible :3
~X~
"No man is worth your tears."
He'd spoken those words more times than he could count, to many a brother in arms. It kept them focused in the face of danger. Kept them strong. There would be time to honor their fallen friends' memories at a later time.
No death had ever hit him as hard as Merlin's had, though. Arthur had told him to stay in Camelot. He'd told him that it was too dangerous for a servant. But Merlin, the stubborn brat, had insisted on accompanying Arthur.
And look what he'd done.
He'd gone and gotten himself killed, damn it.
Arthur hadn't eaten since he and the remaining knights had returned the night before. He hadn't left his room, either. He was just…lost. For over two years, Merlin had been the first person he'd seen every morning.
And sure, he was stubborn and annoying and had all kinds of snarky little quips and comebacks. Hell, he was the most difficult servant Arthur had ever had! But there was something about Merlin that was…good. He was kind and loyal and a constant reminder that Arthur was more than just a prince, and Merlin was more than just a servant.
Damn it, Merlin was his friend—his closest friend.
He briefly considered going to Gaius, requesting some memento by which he could remember Merlin. A book, or his stupid little neck scarf perhaps. He quickly halted that train of thought, though. How could he face the old man now? No doubt, he blamed Arthur for Merlin's death.
Sitting on the bed, Arthur gazed to the door, half-expecting Merlin to come bumbling through with his excuses and cryptic little remarks. Arthur would chastise him for slacking off his chores, Merlin would apologize and promise to do better in the future, and they would both smile, secure in the knowledge that absolutely nothing would change.
But nothing happened. Merlin didn't appear. There was no sign of the scarf he wore around his neck or his rediculous ears or goofy grin. And there never would be again. He was gone.
No man was worth his tears.
But Merlin wasn't just any man. He wasn't just a knight under Arthur's leadership. No, he was much more than that. And Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot, felt no shame in letting the tears run their paths down his cheeks as he cried for Merlin, his servant, his perpetual annoyance, and, above all else, his friend.