A/N: Heyy everybody, I'm back! Not much to say about this chapter except: yes, all of the books mentioned are real (in fact, I own most of them haha). I only go into detail about one of them, but hopefully I gave enough context that you don't need to have read it to understand what they're talking about. Anyways, hope everyone enjoys!
...
Eventually, Arthur convinces Merlin to return to school, at least until they can come to an agreement about Merlin's plans. He doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry to return to the dorms, but Merlin certainly doesn't have any plans to kick him out.
"I'm so lost," Merlin whines as they walk home after their first day back.
"Well, we have missed nearly two weeks of classes," Arthur points out.
"I know… There's so much work to catch up on!"
"Should we start with history? At least we can work together to catch up in that class."
"Sure," Merlin says, holding the door open and letting Arthur go through first. "I get the feeling you won't enjoy it too much, though."
"Huh? What are you talking about, Merlin?"
"You'll see," he promises darkly.
"Alright then…" Arthur rolls his eyes as he toes off his shoes. They drop their bags on the living room floor, and he sits down cross-legged at the coffee table. Merlin follows his lead, taking a seat across from him, and they pull out their books.
Merlin barely manages to read two sentences before he gets distracted. "It's almost the end of the term."
Arthur hums an agreement. "And your point is?"
"Registration starts tomorrow."
"Yes, but first years don't start until next week."
"And then it's Christmas break."
"Yep…" Arthur keeps his gaze on his book, hoping that maybe Merlin will shut up if he just keeps acting disinterested.
For once, he does. Merlin gives an exaggerated sigh, but returns his attention to the task at hand.
A few minutes later, it's Arthur himself who interrupts their work. "How did I not realize before that this is all complete rubbish?" he asks, running a hand through his hair.
Merlin chuckles. "Now you know what I meant when I said you wouldn't like this. I've been thinking the same thing all term. I mean, the later parts of history are all told from the wrong perspective and just… shaped to fit whatever they wanted them to be like." He's torn between amusement and disgust, and it shows on his face and in his voice. "And in the earlier parts, there's no mention anywhere of you, or magic, or Camelot, or… or anything that we lived through! How is the fiction more accurate than the history books?"
"Fiction?" Arthur asks, eyes narrowing. "You mean you actually know more about the myths than that they exist?"
"Yeah, I—I have a collection." The confession makes his face burn, but he stands up and gestures for Arthur to follow him. He leads the way to his library, unlocking the door and removing the spell he'd cast on it, and points to a shelf in the corner.
Arthur eyes him curiously and wanders over to the shelf. It's filled from top to bottom with books that have titles like King Arthur and His Knights, The Mirror of Merlin, and Camelot Chronicles.
"We're myths, Arthur," Merlin whispers, watching the other man run his fingers over the spines. After all these years, it's still hard to believe. "Legends."
"Have you read… all of these?" he asks incredulously.
"Every single one," Merlin replies with a tiny smile. When Arthur just stares at him for a moment, he attempts to lighten the mood with, "I guess 'Dragoon' was more memorable than 'Merlin' though, because for some reason, I'm an old man in most of them."
Arthur snickers and turns back to the shelves, pulling a book out at random. "Can I…?"
"Of course," Merlin answers with a shrug. He stoops to peer at the cover and nearly snorts. The Once and Future King. "I guess it should be The Once and Present King now, huh?"
"No, it shouldn't, because I'm not actually the king." Arthur rolls his eyes. "What aren't you getting about that, Merlin?"
Merlin grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like 'stubborn prat,' and Arthur turns a glare on him.
"What was that?" he asks. His tone is overly pleasant, but Merlin can clearly hear the threat that underlies it.
"Nothing, Sire!" he answers with an unconvincing grin.
"That's what I thought." Arthur falls silent, opening up to a page in the middle of the book and reading. He closes it again after a minute and replaces it on the shelf. Keeping his gaze on the books so he doesn't have to meet Merlin's eyes, he asks, "Do you mind if… if I read some of them?"
"We still have homework," Merlin reminds him regretfully.
"I know. I meant after that. After we finish our work, can I?"
"Of course. You can come in here whenever you want and read whatever you want. Except… If you read any of the spellbooks, I'd prefer if you didn't do it aloud. I don't think you have any magic, but just in case. I'd rather not come home to find my house on fire or something."
Arthur chuckles. "Don't worry, I just meant these ones," he reassures him, gesturing to the shelf they're standing by.
"Alright. Oh!" Merlin glances around at all of the magical instruments on the floor and desk, grinning sheepishly. "Um… Just give me a second to clean up." With a wave, the items start floating out the door, and he follows to make sure they settle in the right places. Arthur waits a moment, blinking dumbly, then laughs and goes after him.
...
A loud thump jolts Merlin out of his sleep that night, and he reacts instinctively, calling upon his magic, feeling it flow through his body and pool in his fingertips. A quick glance around the room reveals no danger, however. He glances at the clock as he quietly climbs out of bed and creeps to the door. 3:14—far too early to be awake, much less protecting his home from intruders.
Suddenly, he remembers that he has more to protect than just his home now; he has his king, as well. Maybe that's why they're here. Maybe somebody knows, somehow. The thought makes his throat close up as he tiptoes down the hallway, following sounds that are much quieter now than the first was. He pushes open the door to the library, and the man standing in the middle of the room jumps, turning to face him.
"Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up?" Arthur asks. Merlin slumps, every muscle in his body relaxing at once as he lets out a relieved laugh. "I dropped a book," Arthur explains, holding up a thick volume in demonstration.
"No," Merlin lies, smiling. "It's fine. Why are you still reading, though? It's so late."
"Once I started, I just… couldn't stop," Arthur says sheepishly, sitting back down. Merlin blinks at the fairly large pile of books on the desk, wondering if Arthur has somehow already read them all. "Our stories have been told in so many different ways. It's like… If you put bits and pieces together from each of them, then you'd get the truth, but… We're the only two people alive who know which pieces are the true ones, aren't we?"
"As far as I'm aware, yes."
"And actually, you're the only who really knows. I missed so much of it. So much was happening behind the scenes that I had no clue about."
"Arthur, don't—" Merlin starts, but Arthur stops him with a shake of his head.
"I'm not pitying myself, Merlin. I'm not sad, or angry, or anything else, really. It's just strange."
"I understand," he replies with a nod, and he truly does. After all, Merlin has read all these books, too. He knows how bizarre it feels to read your own story told by someone who wasn't there and has no idea what really happened.
"There's just… one thing," Arthur says, not meeting his eyes. He holds up one of the smaller books. "This… this isn't right… Is it? I mean, obviously there are some things that are all wrong, but… This wasn't… me, was it?"
Merlin takes a few steps forward and peers at the title. Here Lies Arthur. He grits his teeth, immediately understanding. That was the one book he had truly loathed. He had very nearly set it into the fire rather than the shelf after reading it. "No," he says forcefully. "Arthur, you were no tyrant, no selfish fool killing your kinsmen because of wounded pride. You are a kind and benevolent man, and you ruled the way you lived. Please, never doubt that. Besides," he adds, trying to lessen the weight of his own words, "I'm certainly no silly old bard weaving false tales of magic and heroism."
"But there were people who saw it this way." It's a statement, not a question, and Merlin hates that. "There were people who believed that I was cruel, that the things I did were out of hatred or greed, that… That I was just like my father."
"…Yes," Merlin admits reluctantly. "There will always be people who believe everything they hear. There will always be people who hate—or fear—only because they don't understand."
"You're speaking from experience," Arthur observes with a small frown.
"Yes," he replies. Denial would be useless at this point.
"I'm s—"
"Don't," Merlin cuts him off. "Stop apologizing, okay? You've already apologized enough, and the past is in the past."
"Alright," Arthur agrees, though he knows that tamping down that reflex will be difficult.
"Anyways…" Merlin drifts off, then wanders over to pluck the book from Arthur's hand and replace it on the shelf. "I was just trying to say that… No matter how anyone else might have seen it, I knew you. I know you. You only ever did what you had to do to protect your people. You are, and always have been, a good person," he finishes emphatically, forcing Arthur to meet his eyes so that he'll see the truth in them.
"I…" Arthur stops, sighs, and restarts with a small smile. "Thank you, Merlin. You're the most loyal friend I ever could have hoped for."
"Oh, friends now, are we?" Merlin teases in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Arthur chuckles. "Well, I always did say 'if things were different,' didn't I? And they are different now. I'm not the king, and you're certainly not just a servant. I think it would be alright now."
"Yeah," Merlin agrees, unable to keep the silly grin off his face. Of course he knows that they'd really always been friends, but something about both of them being able to say it feels great. "Now, come on," he says, wrapping an arm around Arthur's shoulders. "You need to get some sleep."
"But—"
"You can keep reading tomorrow. The books won't magically disappear."
"Well, you never know with you around," Arthur retorts with a smirk.
"I promise not to vanish them while you're asleep," Merlin swears, laughing.
"Alright. Goodnight," Arthur says as they reach the door to his room.
"Goodnight, Arthur."
"Oh, and Merlin?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"You already said that," Merlin points out with a lopsided smile.
"Yeah, well…" He shrugs, then disappears into his room without another word.
"You're welcome, Arthur," Merlin says to the empty hallway. He shakes his head, laughing quietly, then crawls back into his own bed. He's out again the moment his head touches the pillow.
