Arthur began to visit Merlin more frequently after that, being sure to at least stop by once a day, if not more so. He did little but sit beside him and let his presence be known. Merlin all the while could do little to appreciate it. Mostly, he would stay silent, save for mumbled thanks and small greetings. Other days he would talk about himself in a way that no human should ever think to, speaking of burdens and worthlessness. It ate at Arthur's heart. Still unsure if the Merlin he was left with was the same one he knew, his helplessness caused a battle to rage on inside of his head between the part of him that wished to have his friend back and the part of him that wanted nothing to do with the man.
"How has he been?" Arthur asked one early morning as he strode into the room.
"He has been calmer these past few days," Gaius informed.
"That's good, is it not?"
"I could be a sign that he is adjusting," Gaius replied.
"But?"
"But," he continued, "it may also be a sign that he is further withdrawing from reality."
"Allow me the leniency to hope for the best?" Arthur suggested, trying to remain lighthearted at the early hour.
"I hope for us all," Gaius agreed, setting breakfasts on the table.
"Is he still resting?" Arthur questioned.
"Yes!" Gaius confirmed cheerfully. "It's the longest he's slept in a while now. Last I checked on him, he was sound asleep."
"That's good," Arthur said. "I would never wish anything against his health. However, I do hope he wakes before I must leave for the knighting this morning."
"I'm sure he'll be up by then."
"Good," Arthur huffed. "He's good luck."
"Is he?"
"It seems so," Arthur joked. "Whenever I see him when he is fare, little goes wrong during the day."
"Perhaps," Gaius suggested, "seeing him do well simply lifts your spirits."
Arthur's mind seemed to pause at the comment. "I suppose it does," he said warmly, having forgotten what it felt like to have his friend bestow wisdom upon him during those odd moments in past.
Suddenly there was a muffled thump from Merlin's chambers and they both stopped to hear it. A short break in time, and they heard it again. Arthur and Gaius looked to each other in worry before they followed the next low thud into his room.
"Merlin!" Gaius called out as he found his ward awake in bed, hand muffling his hysterics and head banging against the wall behind him.
The old man rushed in to try and calm the rocking boy. But Merlin just kept thrusting the back of his head into the wall with the force of his sorrows. Arthur, all the while, stood frozen by the door, watching in horror as the man he thought was recovering fought against his physician. His mind went numb with the sound of Merlin's mumblings, incoherent rants of how pointless it was for him to be there. He heard his own name amongst the slurred words and they made his heart clench.
The sight of blood on Gaius's hand jolted Arthur back into action and he leapt to his side to help calm the frantic boy. He kneeled on the bed and put himself between Merlin and the wall so he could hurt himself no longer. As Merlin mumbled and thrashed, Arthur enveloped him, pinning his arms to his sides, leaving only his bucking legs to the fit.
Arthur watched as Merlin slowly gave in, body going slack save for the rapid, sorrow filled breaths that racked his frame. He looked down at the distraught face pressed against his chest, eyes drooped and red with tears. A cold feeling on his chin made him aware of his own tears, unchecked during the struggle. Holding Merlin upright with one arm and whipping away the tears with his other, he looked to Gaius. The old man stepped forwards and took Merlin's weight so that Arthur may come off the bed. He did so and stood to the side, watching as Merlin's surrogate father set him back into a sitting position.
"Gaius," Arthur spoke out after a long, drawn out silence between them, nothing but Merlin's involuntary moans and hums filling the room.
Gaius, however, did not hear him, his voice having been so small and his ward in such desperate need of care.
"Gaius," Arthur said more urgently, his voice wavering.
The physician turned and looked at his king expectantly. When he saw the internal battle taking place within Arthur's eyes, he stood up and said, "I will tend to him for the remainder of the day, milord."
"Thank you," Arthur croaked before leaving the room, entirely shaken by his friend's outburst. He tried to keep himself calm as he walked, fast paced, through the corridors. He tried to tell himself that Merlin would be alright, that his friend was still in there somewhere. But there was a niggling doubt in the back of his mind, tearing him away from hope, feeding lies to him, telling him that magic had done this, that magic had damaged Merlin forever and would never let him free.
He slammed the doors to his chambers shut and closed out the world to his worries. He had a servant bring him a wash bowl and he rinsed his face in cool water. He insisted that he would dress himself for the knighting ceremony. He attended, stone faced and lock footed as he dubbed his newest men. He spent the entire rest of his day trying not to think about Merlin. However, even when the boy was vacant from his thoughts, he was still there, a lingering sadness in the emptiness left behind.
The room was still and dark when he entered the next morning. After investigating, he found that Gaius had retired for the night and had not yet woken. With little debate, he decided not to disturb the old man and walked slowly up to the chamber beyond.
To his surprise, Merlin was sitting up, head turned towards the open window. For a moment, Arthur's mind stalled. At first glance it seemed as though the boy could see, gazing out at the greying sky. But he was not. As Arthur stepped closer, he too could feel the breeze that swept through the air. He turned and saw that the window was ajar. He wondered over and closed it.
"Hello, keeper," Merlin said in a small, apologetic voice.
Arthur faced him, heart throbbing at the site of him. A stirring nervousness inside his gut that made him want to flee like the coward he felt like. But he did not. Instead, he followed the pull in his chest and rested his hand on Merlin's arm to greet him.
Oddly, Merlin hummed at the touch, taking up his other hand and placing it over Arthur's. The king looked down at it and, after a few moments, felt Merlin squeeze his fingers. "I am sorry," he said, bowing his head in shame. He slid Arthur's hand off until it fell away. "I am much of a burden as it is. I should not have caused you so much trouble last night."
Unable to give Merlin a response, Arthur took a deep breath and sat down on edge of the bed beside him.
"I was . . ." Merlin began, pausing for a moment to smile at his own folly, "feeling the breeze. There's a window and I thought . . . for a moment I thought that I could hear the wind."
A lump formed in Arthur's throat, a painful one. He wished so much that he could make amends, apologize at the very least, but there was no way of conveying anything to this man.
"I want to tell you something," Merlin said, shifting slightly on the bed. "After all, you have been so kind to me when I do not deserve it."
Arthur put a hand on Merlin's shoulder in reassurance but the boy shrugged it off.
"No," he objected. "No, please. Just listen." He took a deep breath and bowed his head before beginning his tale. "I was born in Ealdor, son of Hunith and . . . I was a bastard child. Fathers and mothers would not let their children play with me. If I did speak to anyone, I was met with slurs and other awful things. The only reason I ever found a friend was because Will was unsupervised. His father had died and his widower mother had to run the house and the fields so he was on his own a lot. However, my birth was not the only reason for people to have hate for me." He took a shuddering breath. "There were rumors, started by one of our neighbors who helped my mother when she was in labor, that . . . He told those in our village that, for a moment, when I was born, I . . . I was born with eyes of gold."
Arthur's breath caught at that. Merlin was born with magic. The Merlin he met had magic. The Merlin he grew to trust had magic. The Merlin that had become his dearest friend had magic.
"Thank you," Merlin whispered after a long moment of silence.
Arthur looked at his quizzically, his mind still churning with the newfound knowledge. He didn't realize what Merlin was thanking him for. But then he saw the way his eyes were downcast, looking at nothing but portraying his sorrow nonetheless. Merlin had been afraid that the person caring for him would have him killed.
"They say it's impossible; to be born with magic. I'm just the exception, I suppose. I didn't know it was so strange when I was young. I didn't understand why I was kept inside or why children were pulled inside their houses to keep safe from me. Magic was allowed in Cenred's land but sorcerers disappeared in the night and, if you ever saw them again, it was because they were to do the king's tyrannical bidding. When Will found out, he was . . . indifferent. It was the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me back home. But then my mother found out. She became so afraid for me. The fact that someone knew . . . Her fear only grew with time and, with my powers being so strong . . . even I came to fear them at times. I had no control over them. It eventually became too much. I was nearly found out more than once. So, she . . . sent me to Camelot.
"I know it sounds stupid; sending a sorcerer to Uther's realm. However, she knew a man named Gaius who worked under the king. He'd practiced sorcery early in his life but had pledged his allegiance to the crown during the Great Purge. Little did the king know he did not believe in the ban on magic.
"He took me in and, from there, I met the prince, Arthur. We got off on the wrong foot but I saved his life and, in turn, his father made me his servant.
"My first few nights in Camelot, my mind was plagued by a powerful voice, beckoning me beneath the castle. I eventually gave in and was met with a mighty dragon, Kilgharrah. It was then that he told me of words whispered between men throughout all of time, a destiny that would unite the kingdoms and bring upon the peaceful realm of Albion. For this to come to pass, I was meant to protect Arthur. Using these unfathomable powers, I was meant to guide the Once and Future king to the throne.
"I hated it. Thought it was hogwash, actually. I thought Prince Arthur was the biggest prat that had ever graced the earth." He scoffed at his own immaturity. "But I came to respect him. I had to keep by his side, it was my duty . . . but it became more than that. We became friends. I would have laid down my life for him. The gods could have rained down from the sky and spit on my boots for doing so but I would do anything to make sure that he became the king he was destined to be, the king I knew he would be."
Arthur heard Merlin stifle a cry and he looked over to see a tear rolling down his cheek. The sight made him aware of his own tears, but he did not wipe them away. He deserved the painful woe that welled up inside him.
"And now," Merlin sobbed, "I . . . Last time I saw him, he . . . he saw me do magic and I fell. I can't . . . I don't know where he is or if he's okay. Morgana may be out of the picture but Agravaine is still out there and I . . . I need to know that he's . . . I can't live with myself knowing that he might be . . ."
Arthur launched forwards, throwing his arms around Merlin as he wept. "I'm here, Merlin," he croaked, wishing with all his might that somehow the boy would know it was him. "I'm here. Please, Merlin. I'm alright. I'm so sorry."
Upon hearing a click, Arthur looked up over Merlin's shoulder to see Gaius standing in the doorway. Arthur's face scrunched up in despair looking at the old man, whose son he had condemned to a lifetime of silence and darkness. He brought Merlin closer then and held him tight. Burring himself in the boy's shoulder, he said, "If I had only come back for you, this would have never happened. I will never make this up to you, Merlin, but, I promise, I will find a way to let you know that you are home."
Merlin slept the rest of that day, having been emotionally exhausted. Arthur began to visit less frequently but for longer amounts of time. Merlin would even tell him stories on occasion. The rest of his days were spent performing his kingly duties and trying to come up with a way to communicate with Merlin. He'd even spoken to a few blind and deaf villagers. However, no one produced any results. Those who could not see communicated with their ears and those who could not hear communicated with their eyes. Merlin was detached from the world and there seemed to be little link between him and everyone else.
"I hope this has been of help to you, milord," said a townswoman who had helped him speak to her deaf son. "It is also very nice for Jason to have visitors. Very few people are able to convey things to him."
"It was my pleasure," Arthur said, smiling but feeling somewhat defeated at not finding anything. "I do hope he and Amelia get a chance to meet. She is a lonely girl as well."
"Yes, I can imagine," she laughed. "It would be good for them to meet someone with the same problem."
Arthur grinned and looked back at the boy who had settled down in the grass, a stick in his hand. He looked down at a patch of dirt obstructing the verdant yard. He took the branch and prodded at the dirt, shifting the sand and mud for a moment until the ground was relatively flat. Then, he stuck the stick into the soft soil and dragged it in strange patterns until it resembled a hunting dog, seemingly pointing its nose towards potential prey. Arthur's smile fell as he pondered these actions. There was something about what the boy was doing that made something in his brain stir.
"Milord?" the woman asked, bringing Arthur out of his wondering.
"Uh, sorry," he stammered. "You were a great help, really," he added. Then, he drew some money from his belt and placed it in the woman's hands.
"Milord! This is too generous! You don't need to—"
"Keep it," Arthur said as he began to pace away, not giving her a change to refuse his payment.
"What stories do we have today?" Arthur asked as he wondered into Merlin's room. He stopped half way to the bed and sniffed the air. "It smells in here. I'll think to bring you candles later."
"Keeper," Merlin smiled as he felt Arthur near. The king purposeless walked with strength in his step whenever he was with Merlin so that he might guess what direction he was in.
"You never can use my title correctly, can you?" he asked incredibly. "When is the last time you bathed? It reeks like a sailor's armpit in here." The king turned and inspected the sheets of Merlin's bed. "These have to be at least a week old." He took a corner of the blanket and placed it in Merlin's hand.
Merlin took it and rubbed it between his fingers. "They need washing," he said quietly.
"Do you ever listen?" Arthur asked sarcastically. He'd taken up the habit of talking to a deaf man. He took the sheets from the bed and threw them into a basket. "You're supposed to be the servant, remember?" He tapped Merlin's arm and motioned for him to stand. "Come on, I'll get Gaius to put something in your bath to make you smell better. Honestly, you stink like a mule's backside."
". . . but I didn't remember any of it," Merlin told as Gaius sprinkled scented herbs into his bath. "I honestly don't know how he couldn't have noticed that I was trying to kill him. I suppose he was just distracted by the traitor. Anyway, I took an aging potion and snuck away into the woods to . . ."
Arthur sat back in his seat by the fire. There was so much about Merlin's life that he did not know. It were as if there were some parallel life that the boy was living, always doing outlandish things right under Arthur's nose and somehow never getting caught. It was pure dumb luck and a natural knack for seeming utterly stupid that saved Merlin from the pyre, it seemed.
He listened carefully to Merlin's tale, yet another adventure he'd had trying to protect the crown and seek no credit. His eyes wondered until they settled on the rim of the little wooden tub, where Merlin's hand rested against the side, his fingers tracing the grooves in the wood as if he were reading it. Merlin's story drifted away from his mind as he watched. With his sight and his hearing gone, Merlin lived primarily through touch. He felt the presence of those who were with him and read the patterns in woods carvings like they were pictures painted on his fingertips. Arthur's mouth fell open as he realized the key to uniting Merlin with the world again.
"Arthur, are you alright?" Gaius asked over Merlin's hum of words.
The king looked up at him, eyes wide, and said, "Get him out of the tub. Get him dressed. I know how to speak to him!"
And so a bewildered Merlin was quickly gathered up by a bemused Gaius, seated hastily in a chair by the hearth.
"What . . . What's happening?" he asked.
"What are you going to do?" Gaius questioned as he watched Arthur draw up a chair beside his friend.
"You'll see." He thought of the boy with the stick in the dirt from earlier in the day as he grabbed at Merlin's wrist.
Merlin startled and pulled his hands away, eyes going wide. They were in such a rush to test Arthur's methods that they failed to realize how concerned Merlin was by all the commotion. Slowly, Arthur laid a gentle hand on Merlin's shoulder to show that all was well. Then, he took up his other hand and brought Merlin's wrist out.
"What . . ." Merlin murmured, at a loss as to what was happening.
Arthur looked at him in wonder for a moment, hoping with all his might that, for the first time since he had betrayed Merlin, he would be able to answer him.
He placed his fingers on Merlin's palm and spread them out until both their hands were flowered and firmly placed atop one another's. He held it there for a moment, looking up into Merlin's unseeing eyes that were glistening with the ominous thrill of what was happening to him. Then, he lightly pulled his hand away and Merlin kept his palm presented to him. Finally, he took his pointed finger and wrote out the letters across his palm that spelt, You are with Arthur.
There was a pause in which Merlin looked confused. Arthur held his breath as he studied him, pleading to whatever god would listen that it would work.
Merlin brought his other hand to his mouth to muffle a cry. Both from the shock of knowing another person's words and the idea that Arthur was the one beside him made his mind stutter and his heart hammer.
Arthur crushed him in a hug that held the strength and warmth of a thousand men within it. Merlin wailed as he clung onto him, sputtering out apologies and woes and doubts he had had. He rambled into the king's shoulder about how wrong the world felt and how stupid he was for getting lost and how thankful he was that he had found him. Arthur stopped and took hold of Merlin's hand again, prompting the boy to eagerly splay out his palm once more.
I am so sorry Merlin. I should not have left you. He paused and felt the boy's hand shaking beneath his. You were never lost Merlin. I am sorry. You have always been home. Merlin began to shake his head, a frightful look on his face. You are home. You are in Camelot, Arthur spelled more quickly.
"I've been here this whole time," Merlin whispered through the wetness of his sorrow. His frame was racked with a sob and Arthur pulled him in again.
I am so sorry, he wrote into Merlin's back. I did not know how I could speak to you.
Arthur waited for a response. But none came. Merlin simply clutched onto him more tightly as Gaius sat beside them, in awe at Arthur's clever solution. It was something so simple. They had been looking too vigorously. Sometimes the largest problems have the smallest solutions.