Alright, so like many of the plots that I have dreamed up, I have fallen in love with this, so I've decided to compose a sequel of sorts. This was a little trickier to write, but I submit that it was totally worth it, because I just . . . I just love this Merthur so much!

And, I admit, I was inspired a bit by Lord Voldemort when writing this, so please forgive my subconscious addition to Harry Potter, too. It wasn't deliberate, but I swear it isn't . . . horribly noticeable.

Also, I really like the idea of Arthur sitting at a desk being all professional, and Merlin worry-warting and pacing and just generally distracting Arthur without entirely meaning to. I don't know why, (I've already used it once before this), but I can sense myself using this image in the future, so please forgive me!

So, without further ado: here's Part II!

R&R!


Arthur was reading over some papers in his chambers, careful to keep the parchment a safe distance away from the candle flame, when he felt a yawn itch at his throat. He tried to swallow the yawn, but it forced its way from his mouth, stretching his lips open and exposing his teeth. As soon as it passed, he looked up at Merlin, who was pacing in irritation, and had been for quite some time. Arthur had tried his best to ignore it.

Arthur sighed, rubbing his eyes. "What's the matter, Merlin?"

Merlin jumped at the sound of Arthur's voice. He glanced briefly at him before continuing to pace. "Nothing."

Arthur scoffed, organizing the papers halfheartedly. "Yeah, you've fooled me."

Merlin rolled his shoulders and kept his dizzingly fast pace.

The king rose to his feet with a stretch, gazing at Merlin fondly. "Alright, Merlin. Tell me what's wrong."

Merlin halted immediately and turned to face his king. He blinked at him a couple times; holding his gaze. Finally, he began, "Are you sure -"

Arthur smiled and interrupted, saying, "Everything's going to be fine, Merlin. Don't worry."

"Worry?" Merlin asked, shrugging and beginning to pace again. "Who's worrying? Not me, that's for sure."

Arthur chuckled, walking over to Merlin and pacing alongside him. "Then I'm not, either."

Merlin nodded, dutifully.

There was a beat of silence before the black-haired man spoke.

"But, are you absolutely sure -"

"I'm absolutely sure, Merlin," Arthur answered, wrapping an arm around Merlin's shoulders as they continued to pace. "Like I said, they won't mind at all."

"Well, maybe they won't mind, but -"

"Merlin, what exactly are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Merlin said quickly, looking up at Arthur. "I'm just . . . wary, that's all."

"You're . . . wary?"

Merlin nodded, looking away.

"What are you wary of?"

Merlin sighed, leaning into Arthur's body and resting his head on Arthur's cheek as they moved together. "I don't know. It's hard to explain."

Arthur smiled, squeezing Merlin's shoulder. "We've got all night."

The corners of Merlin's mouth upturned slightly, before they fell again as he sighed. "Oh, Arthur," he said under his breath. "Are you sure there won't be any backlash? At all? I mean, I know people have been . . . expecting this, I suppose. But that doesn't mean they'll all support it. And, well, with you being king, I'd think . . . I mean, I know . . . do the people actually want this?"

Arthur chuckled warmly, shaking Merlin's body. "Merlin, since the day you first became my manservant, people wanted this. From the second I laid my eyes on you, and you me, everybody around us noticed that we wanted this. We just didn't know what this was at the time. Whatever else comes with whatever it is you and I have . . . they'll accept it wholeheartedly."

Merlin smiled wide, turning his head so he could look into Arthur's eyes. "You were such a prat. Still are."

"And you were such an idiot." Arthur kissed the top of Merlin's head. "Still are."

Merlin laughed, lifting his head from Arthur's body as he aligned his spine. Arthur's arm slipped from his shoulder, and Merlin smiled at his king.

They gazed at each other for a moment before Merlin said, "We'll be fine."

Arthur nodded. "We will."

"And I'll be fine."

"You will."

"And . . . you'll be fine."

The king smiled. "I will."

Merlin grinned. "Good."

Arthur reached an arm up and ruffled Merlin's hair. "Come on, Queen Merlin, we have a long day ahead of us. You, in particular, need to get some sleep."

Merlin groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Oh, Arthur, please don't call me that."

"Why not?"

Merlin glared at Arthur halfheartedly. "There are many reasons why I don't want you to call me that, but the main one being that I am not a woman."

Arthur mockingly contemplated and folded his arms. "That's debatable."

Merlin scowled. "Alright, so there goes my happiness for the night."

The king smiled letting his arms fall back to his side. He reached a hand up to brush Merlin's cheek, but paused half-way through the action and pulled his hand away. For all Merlin taught Arthur to love with all his heart, it would take lifetimes to convince him that it was alright to show his love in the form of sweet gestures and light touches, instead of lingering looks and lasting smiles. "Don't worry, Merlin," he said, to cover up his falter, "I'm well aware that you are not a woman. I've been acquainted with your -"

"Arthur, please," Merlin said, his face growing so red that he had the nagging need to press the palm of his hand to his cheek to try to cool it down.

Arthur laughed at Merlin's embarrassment, and the sound was enough to make Merlin grin despite himself. He cleared his throat, forcing the smile from his face. He wanted to be irritated at Arthur; he found it endlessly amusing to watch the lengths Arthur would go to to either cheer Merlin up or annoy him further.

He sighed. "So. Tomorrow."

Arthur's smile fell as well. He felt worried that Merlin was so worried; Merlin always seemed so confident in the face of Arthur's conquests, but never once had he seen Merlin fear something so trivial before.

Well, he supposed it wasn't trivial for his manservant, per se, but that is a different matter. Arthur didn't like that, no matter where their conversation went, Merlin always seemed to bring it right back to this uncomfortable topic of discussion. "Tomorrow," he agreed.

"Just, one more time, Arthur," Merlin said, rubbing his eyes. "The people, what will they -"

"Merlin," Arthur interrupted, with a shake of his head, and a deep breath. By his tone of voice, Merlin could tell that he was going to open up to him; whenever Arthur said something meaningful and shockingly beautiful, it came from nowhere and, usually, at the most inconvenient times. Merlin liked it; it kept him on guard, and made Arthur appear more endearing even than Merlin imagined. "My love for the people does not surpass my love for you. Where you are concerned, the people don't matter," Arthur said, wrapping an arm around Merlin's waist tightly.

Merlin made a soft noise of surprise at being suddenly pressed flush against his king, but he quickly melted into the touch. He didn't think he'd ever get over the feeling of Arthur's skin against his, of Arthur's strong arms taking hold of him. Merlin didn't think that he would ever get passed the fact that he was allowed to see the king like this, that he was allowed to touch the king in ways no other person was. It was exhilarating, almost like breaking a rule set long ago by old men in paintings long covered in dust; it was enticing, like tasting a pie on the windowsill that was forbidden to eat; it was exciting, like the build-up of adrenaline in the bloodstream when a love presses his lips against yours. It was a sensation that Merlin would never get sick of. It would always be as amazing as it was the first time, and he was sure that every pleasure button he had would still work years later, decades later, when they were old and dancing the dance of love under the same sheets in the same bed.

But this was now. Here and now. They were young, and slightly reckless, and nobody knew for sure what they were. There was speculation, (apparently since the beginning of their friendship), but nobody ever knew. That's why they always asked: because they had theories, and ideas, and hopes, but there was no way for them to know for sure.

There never would be.

All these things were going through Merlin's mind when Arthur swept him from his feet and carried him to their bed; however, his train of thought was slowly becoming compromised as Arthur's silky hands began to caress his pale skin, as his neckerchief was untied by expertly trained fingers and his shirt removed by carefully maneuvered movements.

Merlin was already too far gone to speak properly.

Arthur, with his hands placed gently on the sides of Merlin's head, leaned down into his lover's face, gazing at his lustful expression with a soft smile. He dipped his head and laid a sweet kiss on Merlin's lips.

When Arthur pulled back, Merlin's head followed him, trying to find something more.

Arthur chuckled, falling off of Merlin and flopping down on the bed beside him. He nuzzled his nose into Merlin's cheek and said lowly, "Get some sleep, clotpole."


The sun shone directly into Merlin's eyes and he jerked awake. He had been having an odd dream where he was sitting on a throne in the throne room, wearing a crown, but the crown had Uther's face on it, and Arthur, who was sitting beside him, was actually the Great Dragon, and Gaius was a toad and Gwaine had a bald head and Gwen was really fat.

It took him a second to realize that the dream didn't happen.

He let out a breath, and looked around. He still hadn't gotten used to seeing Arthur's chambers when he awoke. It was something he would become accustomed to, he was sure, but it was a work in progress.

Merlin turned to the sleeping figure beside him. Arthur's chest rose and fell in an even pattern, his hair was messy, and his eyelids were closed delicately, almost like he were a painting. Perfect like a painting. Merlin silently cursed his Pendragon good looks, because it was the only thing that was preventing him from scaring the poor king awake.

It was only a couple of minutes before Arthur slowly began to stir, his eyes cracking open slightly and his eyebrows furling in an amusing state of confusion. "Merlin?" he said sleepily, picking his head up from the pillow. "Is't morning?" he slurred.

Merlin laughed, propping himself up on one elbow. "Yes, sire, it's morning."

Arthur nodded, yawning, and sitting up. He blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes, before turning to Merlin, apparently awake enough to speak coherently. "Are you ready?"

Merlin smiled softly. "Absolutely."

Arthur looked at him for a moment before pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. "Then let's go."


Merlin was uncomfortable. There were many pairs of eyes looking at him; well, it seemed as if there were many eyes looking at him. In all actuality, it was the same amount of people who were usually in the throne room when the king had announcements to make and when criminals attended trials. The only difference was that Merlin was standing next to Arthur at the front of the room, rather than next to Gaius on the side of the room, where he could leisurely watch the activities at a safe distance.

Finally, when all the knights were in place, the guards were stationed, and servants located in strategic areas about the room, Arthur cleared his throat, demanding the attention to be drawn to him.

"I have two very important announcements to make," he stated in a clear voice. He paused, almost dramatically, before turning his head to look at Merlin. "Merlin and I. . . ." he began confidently, before abruptly stopping, unsure of how to finish his statement.

Merlin looked back at Arthur, seeing in his eyes that Arthur had not planned what he was going to say at all. He was too busy making sure Merlin felt comfortable and reassured that everything was going to be fine.

Merlin's heart melted just a little bit, before he realized that the knights were glancing at each other, suspicious and skeptical.

"We're. . . ." Merlin continued, furrowing his eyebrows together in the attempt to think of something to say.

"How to say this. . . ."

"It's rather complicated. . . ."

Both Arthur and Merlin fell into silence, staring at each other, longing for the other to think of something clever.

Gaius took a step forward, his arms burrowed into the other arm's sleeves, and a slight smile on his face, (hardly noticeable, if you weren't looking for it). "Perhaps I may be of some assistance, Sire."

"Yes . . . yes!" Arthur said suddenly, breaking his gaze at Merlin to look over at the court physician. "Assist away!"

"King Arthur and Merlin have been on friendly terms for quite some time. It has been obvious to many that the two boys have grown . . . increasingly fond of each other over the years."

Merlin could feel his face blushing already.

"So, as was expected and understood, the two have submitted to their feelings for one another -"

"Alright," Merlin said suddenly, rubbing his cheekbone absentmindedly. "Alright, it's been said, now it really mustn't be needlessly repeated."

All eyes were immediately drawn to Merlin's embarrassment. Most found it endearing and charming, but there were a price few, (like Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Elyan, and Lancelot), that found it endlessly amusing. (As Merlin was practically their little brother, they felt a certain obligation to relentlessly torture him.)

"And I thought Arthur was the coy one!" Gwaine called out behind a cupped hand.

Merlin's face bloomed into many wondrous shades of red, as Arthur glared daggers at Gwaine and said, "Yes, Gwaine, thank you for your commentary."

Gwaine grinned, shrugged, and responded, "Anytime."

"Are you getting married?" Lancelot asked suddenly.

Arthur and Merlin stopped and glanced at each other, before turning to the most noble of knights.

"Married?" Arthur asked.

Lancelot smiled. "Of course. If you two are to finally admit their affections, isn't the next step marriage?"

Merlin frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. "We can't get married."

Arthur turned to Merlin, his eyes widening suddenly at his unexpected vocation of annoyance. He said in a whisper so only Merlin could hear, "Why not?"

"Because you need an heir," Merlin answered, leaning his head closer to Arthur's. "My inability to be a woman kind of prohibits that. . . ."

"Two things," Arthur said. "First of all, you've been using a lot of big words today, and I'd just like to say that I'm a good influence on you. Second of all, your inability to be a woman does not prohibit me from having a child."

"Uh, yes, it sort of does -"

Arthur winked at Merlin, before turning to the crowd, who were watching Merlin and Arthur with an odd mixture of amusement, awe, and pride. "I'm sure you all are wondering what the second announcement is."

There was some vague murmured assent, which Arthur took as a cue to continue.

"This, I don't think, is something I, being a mortal, can tell you," Arthur said mysteriously, turning to Merlin. "However Merlin, I'm sure, can fill you in on the details."

Merlin suddenly turned to Arthur as the knights and the guards looked around at each other in confusion at the word, 'mortal.' There was pure and absolute panic in his eyes, and he reached for Arthur's shoulders, the words, "You know, on second thought, Arthur, I don't really think this is necessary," leaving his mouth so quickly the king had a difficult time piecing the sounds together.

Arthur took hold of Merlin with his strong arms, turning him so he was facing the audience. "You can do it; I'm right here."

"No, no, no, Arthur, please, I can't -"

Arthur gave Merlin a quick but meaningful kiss on the lips, a part of him forgetting that there were other people in the room with them as he was so focused on calming Merlin down.

Merlin froze, his eyes flickering shut, trying to savor the sensation before it left him. And it did, much to his chagrin, and he let his eyes remain closed for a moment, before lifting his lids to reveal a smiling Arthur looking at him fondly. (He could also hear some cheering in the background, but his ears were ringing with his adoration for Arthur, so he found it difficult to focus on anything other than his lover.)

Arthur let his hand slide down Merlin's arm as he took the warlock's hand in his, squeezing slightly in reassurance. "Yes, you can."

Merlin gave a slightly horrified look, before taking a deep breath and turning his attention to the crowd. He cleared his throat as his eyes skimmed the room. "H-hello. Uh, I-I'm Merlin."

"Yes, we know," Percival said with a chuckle, elbowing Gwaine, who, in turn, laughed.

"Right, well, uh. . . ." Merlin swallowed and looked back at Arthur, who merely nodded with an encouraging smile. "I-I. . . ." He sighed deeply, gathering his thoughts. He hadn't planned his speech at all, and it was taking quite a while before something worth saying actually came to him.

"Magic has been outlawed in Camelot for a long time. Those who possess magic have been persecuted, sought after, killed, burned, hanged, and otherwise tormented. Women and children, as well as men. And needlessly; the innocent as well as the guilty have been targeted.

"But that shouldn't happen anymore. Magic is not evil. It is not some disease that cannot be cured; magic can be beautiful. It can be a gift; it can be something worth cherishing, not something that can be twisted and bent into something that must be destroyed. That is not what magic is. Magic is . . . magic is tremendously natural. Like water, and fire, and earth, and air . . . it is the most raw and natural thing you can find, and those who wield it are not evil, either."

Merlin took a breath. "Think of it this way. I've been a manservant for five years. I'm always asked to make the fire, and fire is hot. Fire can kill you. But, are you going to run and hide because, if used the wrong way, fire is dangerous? No, you most certainly won't, because fire also keeps you warm, and heats your bathwater, and cooks your chicken, and it can be so useful and harmless that you would never suspect it could kill something.

"This is what magic is. If used the wrong way, just like fire, it can be harmful. Morgana: she used it the wrong way; she took the gifts she was given to obtain her throne and satisfy her evil plan.

"But magic itself . . . it is not evil, or bad, or wrong. And if you have it, it doesn't make you a bad person. Only if you abuse it, just like if you were to abuse flame . . . then you are a bad person.

"Me?" Merlin said, looking down at his feet. "I am not a bad person. Well," he added with a short, bitter chuckle. "I'm sure that'd be up to debate; a lot has happened since I arrived in Camelot. And . . . I wield magic. I do. But I am not a bad person. I am not evil. And I am not wrong.

"I have protected Arthur in ways that I will never tell anybody. Not him. Not Gaius. I probably won't ever say them out loud. I have . . . killed for him, lied for him, and went on secret missions that I'd rather not remember for him. And all the while, I used my gifts. I used them for good. And that is what makes me not a bad person."

He let out a breath and squeezed Arthur's hand, still warm and strangely compassionate in his. He hadn't ever realized that those words had lived inside of himself until right then. He didn't know he harbored such passion until the need to speak arose. But now he felt exhausted.

The room was silent for a moment, the people visibly processing what he said.

Arthur looked over at Merlin, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted. He was as taken aback by Merlin's speech as the rest of the room. Merlin was afraid of looking Arthur in the eye; he didn't know how he'd react. Sure, he'd known that he was a warlock for quite some time, but he had never fully understood the extents of his frustration until then.

"Hey," Arthur said quietly, just so Merlin could hear him.

Merlin's eyes flicked back and forth, still refusing to look at the king.

"Merlin," Arthur said, a bit louder.

Still, Merlin remained silent.

"Merlin, that was . . . wow."

Gwaine cleared his throat very loudly, causing Merlin to jump and look up towards the noise. "Y-you're a . . . a sorcerer?"

"I am a warlock," Merlin said, pulling himself to his fullest height in pride.

"What's the difference?" he asked, pulling a face.

"A sorcerer practices magic, while a warlock is born with it," Merlin stated.

Gwaine nodded slowly. "I've got a mind open just as much as the next guy, but . . . a warlock? For how long?"

"Well, Gwaine, since a warlock is born with magic, I'm pretty sure I've been one since I was born -"

"What do you mean, 'you have an open mind, but?'" Arthur asked protectively, pulling Merlin closer.

"What he means, Sire," Leon interjected, taking a step forwards, "Is that we've been taught to despise magic and everything concerning it since most of us were born. It's going to take some time for the people of Camelot to fully come to terms with -"

"You all fully came to terms with Merlin when he became my manservant," Arthur said, his grip on Merlin's waist tightening. "Why is it so different now?"

"Because, Sire, now he's a warlock," Leon said. "Or . . . now we know he's a warlock."

"But you didn't despise him before," Arthur shot back. "And now you say that, because he has magic, you must immediately despise him for it? And this kingdom that I've built with the help from this warlock here . . . has that taught you nothing?"

"Arthur, you misunderstand -"

"No, you misunderstand," Arthur bit. "Merlin is . . . something of a. . . ." The king glanced at the black-haired man that he held in his arms. "He's something of a . . . he is what he is. If my father forced you to accept his marriage to a troll, I willing to bet that you can accept my marriage to Merlin!"

Merlin's eyes widened as he finally looked Arthur in the face. "Marriage?"

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur answered. "We are getting married!"

Merlin leaned closer to Arthur and said, just so Arthur could hear, "We can't get married; like I said before, you need an heir, and the people already don't accept me; not even Gwaine wants me around anymore. I told you this would happen, Arthur, I shouldn't have said anything -"

Arthur interrupted, clearly and loudly, addressing the entire court, "I care for Merlin. Merlin is a warlock; I care for him even if he's a warlock, I care for him because he's a warlock. I love him." The king's grip on Merlin tightened even more. "I suggest you do the same."

The room grew contemplatively silent under Arthur's harsh gaze. He had not expected such ignorant responses from his knights. He thought he had trained them better than that; he thought that Merlin had made a larger impression on the knights; he thought they cared for him.

As always, Gwaine was the first to speak.

"Of course."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "What?"

Gwaine started to smirk. "You're not the only one who's allowed to care for Merlin, Arthur. He's our brother. Of course we love him."

Merlin looked between Arthur and Gwaine, before letting his confused gaze land on the knight. "Even if I'm a warlock?"

Gwaine smiled, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Even if you're a warlock."

Merlin turned quickly back to Arthur, a wide smile on his face, as if childishly asking Arthur if he had heard exactly what he did.

"So," Lancelot interrupted, "When is the wedding? You never answered me."

"We can't get married," he said exasperatedly. "Arthur need's an heir."

"But . . . but you're a warlock, aren't you?" Percival asked.

"Yeah, you can just . . . make a baby, right?" Gwaine concluded.

Merlin blinked. Twice. He started to laugh. "I can't just make babies!"

"Why not?" Arthur asked.

"Because . . . because that's not what magic is! Making babies is a magic all on it's own; it has nothing to do with my being a warlock. A baby made from magic would not be normal. It'd be . . . dangerous. And I'm not entirely sure it's possible."

All eyes collectively turned to Gaius.

Gaius thought for a moment, before saying. "Merlin is right. There are ways for magic to create a child, but I'm afraid the results would be dire. The child would be a risk to us all."

"How do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"Well," Gaius explained slowly, trying to figure out how best to word it. "A child born of magic and not of love will not have the ability to love. The greatest gift we receive from our parents is unconditional love. Even if they show no love their child, the act of producing children is the most passionate most people will ever be in their lifetime. That love is powerful; it is passed down through generations, and I can confidently say that it will never stop. But if Merlin were to create children from magic and magic alone, they would not understand this love. It would not be in their vines. Magic would."

"That's not necessarily said as a bad thing," Merlin hastily corrected. "I am but magic itself; I have magic in each of my veins, and it pumps from my very heart. But I was also born of love. Imagine me . . . without the ability to love."

"You'd be but a shell of a person," Gaius said thoughtfully.

"And if I were creating this child to be Arthur's heir," Merlin mused, "and he lacked the ability to love, (and with love comes compassion and empathy), he would be no better a ruler than Morgana."

A hush of solemn passed through the crowd.

Merlin slowly moved his eyes towards Arthur, who appeared crestfallen, but corrected his disappointed expression the moment he noticed Merlin's gaze.

"That's . . . we'll figure it out, Merlin," the king said sympathetically, in a voice just for Merlin, as he stroked the black-haired man's hand with his thumb.

Merlin looked down at their entwined hands before looking back up at Arthur. "I know. One of the most important things Gaius has taught me about my magic is that it should not be the first resort for everything. There are ways to solve problems without it."

Arthur sighed sadly. "I should have been the one to tell you that," he said in a low, border-lined ashamed voice.

Merlin smiled softly. "It is honestly not possible for you to blame yourself for that. I didn't tell you for years, Arthur. It's my fault."

Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but Merlin shook his head and spoke over him.

"Yes it is. I trusted you with my life, but not my darkest secret. I saw you in tears, in mourning, and in heartbreak. I saw the very raw bits of you that nobody else got to see, and yet I couldn't show you who I really was. There is nobody to blame but myself."

Arthur sighed. He knew Merlin well enough to know that he wasn't going to win the argument, so he didn't even try. "We'll be fine."

Merlin smiled wide, his eyes lighting up. "We will be."

Arthur grinned back at him, and the two mutually leaned forward and pressed their lips together in the gentlest of kisses, earning them even louder cheers than before.

Hey, it's me, apsychopathsutopia! I'm currently working on a Part III, as well as another chapter of Love Spells and Sensual Remedies. If, you know, there's anybody out there who still cares!