Disclaimer: I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to BBC Merlin.
Author's Note: Okay, folks, we're in the home stretch. One more chapter to go after this one (really). Then I have plans to begin work on the next installment—the next two, actually. The first one is called The King's Grace, and it's the heart of this entire series (I'll explain more when I post the first chapter). The second one is called The Queen's Gambit, and it takes place after The Chessmaster's Queen (please see my account on AO3 if you're interested). If you know anything about chess, you may be able to guess what "the Queen's Gambit" entails (HINT: it's a chess opening). King's Grace and Queen's Gambit are where things really start taking a turn towards Merlin/Arthur (Merthur). I will still post King's Grace to , as well as AO3, but for my readers, that is where I will conclude A Man's Measure, since both Queen's Gambit and Chessmaster's Queen definitely have Slash, and not just possible implications of it. Queen's Gambit (and Chessmaster's Queen) will only be posted on AO3, but you are more than welcome to visit me there (I go by the penname sharehenstar)! Please enjoy this second-to-last chapter of The Dragonlord's Son :)!
Reviewers: All 273 of you, thank you!
Rating: T/M
Summary: Winter has come to Camelot, and Destiny blows in with the snow, leaving Merlin with a few vital decisions to make…[Friendshipfic. Bromance.]
"Speech"
Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)
.:A Man's Measure:.
By Sentimental Star
VII: The Dragonlord's Son (Part 11)
When Arthur's eyes opened the next morning, he did not know at first what had woken him. His chambers were quiet—the soft, muted sort of quiet that often followed a storm. A slant of light from the partially open window drapes fell across his eyes, and beyond them, a butterfly-winged click against the mullioned glass.
Snow. It's the beginning of Yule.
White flakes drifted lazily against the windowpanes outside. Cool air nipped against his cheeks. But it was warm beneath his blankets, and Arthur released a breathy laugh, relaxing into the linens beneath him.
A sudden knock on his chamber door caused him to start.
Merlin never knocks…!
Before he could grow too panicky about the whereabouts of his manservant, a faint sigh at his side caused him to jump. Glancing beside him, Arthur found himself blinking at a mop of raven hair resting on his pillow and a lanky form curled close beside him beneath the covers.
"Merlin…?" breathed in no little disbelief.
What the hell…? Why is he even…?
The knock came again, more insistently, and a muffled call accompanied it, "Sire…? Are you awake, Sire?"
Still staring in confusion at his sleeping manservant, Arthur tried to shift upright against his pillows…and hissed, stilling immediately, as the skin of his healing wound abruptly pulled in reminder.
Oh. That's why.
Merlin had stayed, as he had every night since Arthur had been wounded. Arthur absolutely did not feel his eyes sting at that knowledge.
They had fallen asleep together, the prince recalled, feeling his face heat just a little at the memory. After Merlin had redressed his injury and tied off the new bandages. Gaius must not have wanted to disturb them.
And damn it all if Merlin doesn't need the sleep, too. Gods, if he still hasn't woken, yet…
The knock sounded once more, a touch more impatiently, "Sire…"
Arthur pulled himself as far upright as he could without aggravating the wound, and cleared his throat to call softly, "Enter."
A relieved sigh and some shuffling, then George entered the room, his arms full of cloths and a tub. "Good Yule, Sire," he greeted cheerily, albeit with not quite the same enthusiasm as Merlin might have; George was nothing if not proper.
Arthur had eased himself into a sitting position by now, with minimal pain or jostling. Now he returned the manservant's greeting with his own, quietly watching as the man set up the tub near the fire and placed the cloths within easy reach, "Good Yule, George. Is it Margot in the kitchens this morning?"
George stoked the fire, building up the flames into a blaze. Once he had the fire crackling in the grate, the manservant began puttering about, straightening the furniture and opening window drapes, "Indeed she is, Your Highness, and she has already begun preparation for tonight's festivities. Cook Marion will join her at midday. Shall I fetch your morning meal, Sire?"
"Fetch two meals, if you would, George," Arthur scrubbed his wrist across his eyes, trying in vain to force his morning grogginess to abate, "as well as enough hot bath water for two." As he lifted his arm, Merlin sighed beside him and shifted on the mattress, accidentally bringing himself up underneath it.
Surprised, Arthur blinked down at him, automatically curling his arm around his best friend's shoulders.
Above them, George cleared his throat and Arthur blanched, realizing he had dropped his guard. With as much dignity as he could muster, and pasting a haughty expression on his face that did nothing to alleviate its heat, Arthur lifted his head, "Yes? Is there anything else?"
To his credit, George did not so much as blink, nor did he spare a glance in Merlin's direction, as if it were an everyday occurrence to find the Crown Prince's manservant fast asleep in his bed. He bowed, "My Lord…King Uther will arrive shortly. He asked me to inform you that he will not stay long—several visiting nobles are due to arrive soon for the feast—but he did wish to inquire about your health. Gaius has told him you are up and about."
Inwardly, Arthur groaned. He had hazy memories of an argument with his father three nights ago (or was it now four?), and several visits since, but did not recall much of their content. Merlin's presence at his bedside had been the only constant, although Guinevere and Gaius had spent every free moment they could spare sitting in with them. If Merlin remained in his bed when his father came, he did not believe it would go over nearly so well as it had with George.
"Very well. Let him know I am able to receive him in my chamber."
George bowed again. "I will, Sire. If that is all…?"
"Yes, George, that will be all. Thank you," Arthur waved him out of the room
A flicker of something like surprise darted across the servant's countenance, but he bowed one final time, "Very good, Sire," and exited out the door.
It took a moment for Arthur to understand the man's surprise, but when he finally did, the prince groaned out loud: "This is all your fault," he informed his still-sleeping-manservant's head. "I am thanking servants—servants, mind you. Next I'll be saying things like please and sorry and opening doors and-!"
"—A'ready doin' that," the tired chuckle emerged from his shoulder.
…Or maybe not-so-sleeping manservant. Arthur gave a half-yelp, half-hiss of startlement as his still healing skin pulled, "Merlin-!"
A deeper chuckle emerged now, and Merlin pulled away from Arthur's shoulder, glancing up at him with a sleepy grin, "Mornin', A'thur."
Despite everything, a smirk twitched Arthur's lips as he took note of the red creases pressed along the cheek that had rested against his shoulder and the sleep-clouded eyes, "Let's have you, lazy daisy, and just how long have you been awake?"
"Erm…" Merlin had the good grace to look sheepish. "Not long, actually. I did hear the part about your father…"
Arthur sighed, and decided it was not worth getting into an argument over. "Then you know why we need to get up. Really, Merlin, you should be honored…I was magnanimous enough to share my bed, and I was going to let you sleep in."
Merlin outright laughed, shifting away from Arthur and sliding off the mattress to kneel on the floor in front of him as the prince gingerly transferred his weight and sat completely upright with only a minor cringe. "Now I know you're feeling better. Prat."
The shrewd glance in his best friend's eyes, however, told Arthur he had not fully escaped his manservant's scrutiny. Deft fingers slid under his night shift, and Arthur obligingly lifted it, letting Merlin unwind the bandages around his torso to examine the injury on his side. "How is it?" asked softly as he tried to twist his neck and take a glance at it.
A slender hand stilled his movement by pressing into his unwounded side, and a brief flare up of white-hot pain reminded him again why it was not a good idea to move. Even as he winced, Merlin's warm forehead pressed against his hip.
Arthur knew what the younger man intended to do a moment before it happened, "Merlin, don't-!"
A quickly muttered word and a flare of gold, then the dull ache that had begun to build up quickly subsided.
Arthur's jaw clenched, "Merlin!"
Merlin sat back on his heels and calmly regarded his somewhat irate prince. His eyes had already flickered back to blue, so Arthur could not really do much except sit there and scowl at him.
"You have to know I'll help you if I think it's necessary, Arthur." Merlin glanced away, bringing his arms up to hug himself. "I-I don't like seeing you in pain."
Arthur sighed, grimly accepting that this would remain a constant point of contention between the two of them for the foreseeable future. He reached out to brush his fingers against his friend's arm, "Nor I, you. Which is why I don't want you to do something like this unless you absolutely have to. If my father were to walk in—"
The knock that sounded on his bedroom door could not have had more impeccable timing: "Arthur, are you awake?" his father's voice drifted to them through the wood.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Merlin paled rapidly and Arthur gave him a significant look, although his face looked hardly any better.
Immediately, Merlin bent over and grabbed the old bandages, carefully beginning to wind them back around Arthur's torso. If his hands shook slightly, Arthur did not say anything and cleared his throat, calling out, "It's fine, Father. I'm awake."
Uther opened the door and entered the room, a small package in hand. He paused when he noticed Merlin tending to his son's dressings and watched him without a sound.
Arthur's palms grew sweatier the longer his father stood there, and he did not even need to glance at Merlin to know the tremors in his best friend's hands had worsened.
Why isn't he saying anything? He can't have heard-!
"You are still here."
Both Merlin and Arthur started violently at the quiet remark (albeit Arthur with a half-smothered yelp). Uther's eyebrows snapped to his hairline at their unexpected reaction, although worry filled his face when he glanced at Arthur. Clearly, he chose to dismiss it as something of an oddity.
Merlin sagged, perceptible only to Arthur, then climbed to his feet after tying off the last bandage. Turning to Uther, he bowed, arms coming to rest behind his back. "I am, Sire," he murmured, straightening up and focusing on a point over the king's shoulder.
Uther drew closer, eyeing his son's manservant up and down. "You still wear your armor."
The king did not see Merlin's hands clench into fists behind his back, but Arthur did.
"I do, Sire," the manservant's response came out low and even, his gaze never wavering from its spot. "Does that displease you?"
Uther blinked and frowned at him, shifting that frown to Arthur when the prince's breathing sped up. He raised an eyebrow at the fierce look suffusing his son's face. "Your master gave it to you, did he not? It suits you."
…Arthur about fell over. "Father…?" he sputtered.
Merlin did not fare much better, "My Lord?" he asked, turning wide eyes to the king.
Uther sighed, throwing him an impatient look. "Well?" he demanded. "Fetch me a chair, boy!"
Unwilling to risk a sudden reversal in the situation, Merlin gave a wordless bow and walked to Arthur's table, bringing over one of its high-backed chairs and setting it next to the bed.
Uther sat, waving the younger man away in clear dismissal once he was seated. "That will be all for now."
Arthur noticed a rebellious twitch developing in his manservant's jaw as he received the command but knowing too well how fickle his father's temperament could sometimes be, he pressed against Merlin's arm, "Go on, Merlin. See to Gaius. He probably has another horrible concoction he wants you to force down my throat and I want my bandages changed."
Perhaps he overdid it on the pompousness, but Merlin gave a (muffled) laugh and bit back a smile, bowing first to Arthur and then to the king, "As you say, my Prince."
"And, Merlin?" Arthur waited until he once more had his manservant's attention, then earnestly met his beloved friend's eyes, "Happy Yule."
Several emotions flitted across Merlin's countenance: shock and surprise (had he forgotten?), and then, finally, joy and warmth, "Happy Yule, Arthur."
Another bow and murmured farewell to Uther ("Good Yule, Sire."), then Merlin left the Crown Prince's chambers for the first time in four days.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Arthur had not really wanted him to go, but he knew his father wished to speak with him alone. With luck, Merlin would change into a fresh set of clothing and no longer carry around four days' worth of chain mail before he returned to Arthur's chambers.
Gods, he really didn't go anywhere. Merlin…
Something big and aching entered Arthur's chest, but he did not have a name for it. Not yet.
Startling him out of his thoughts, Uther cleared his throat, looking vaguely uncomfortable, "Your boy…" Arthur blinked at him as the older man trailed off, unused to seeing his father anything but certain and in command. The king cleared his throat again, "He is very loyal…"
Arthur nodded, far past the point of denying it any longer, "He is. I am not quite sure what to make of him."
More than that, his father did not need to know.
"Take it as your due. You are his prince, Arthur."
Arthur hid a grimace, pulling his knees up to his chest and folding his arms across their tops, "That is not how I see it, Father. You know this."
A moment of pure exasperation, and then Uther smoothed his face, "We are not having this argument again, Arthur. Should you be moving?"
Arthur just managed to refrain from rolling his eyes, "I am well, Father. Merlin and Gaius ensured that."
Just how, he would never say.
Uther eased back in his chair, now that they had entered common ground, "They have done extraordinary work, yes. Lesser men have died from wounds such as yours. I would recommend trying to avoid a similar situation in the future. You…may not be so lucky next time."
His father's voice took on a slightly thicker quality for that last line. Unfortunately, especially after what he had learned last night, Arthur did not feel particularly charitable, "And let Sir Boris slay innocents?" demanded.
He knew if he specifically named Guinevere and Merlin, his relationship with them would come under intense scrutiny. Guinevere was already at risk, considering the…nature…of their interactions and the people who might observe them. And Merlin…
Gods…he's even more at risk than Guinevere…!
Uther's stare was unimpressed. "I am not blind, Arthur. I know how fond you are of the boy—he is your constant shadow. But you cannot go risking your life for him! From what I have seen, he is more than capable of defending himself—and you!"
Arthur hated that he could not contradict his father. That did not stop him from raging against his point, "He shouldn't have to! So, he cannot be a knight. Fine. Even more reason why I should be able to protect him!"
Not that Merlin would ever allow it. Damned, self-sacrificing idiot…
"Arthur...!" the snap came in a tone Uther rarely used with him now. It stated, in no unnecessary terms, that Arthur should shut up and listen to him.
Arthur subsided, if unwillingly and under duress. Merlin was definitely going to be a point of contention between them from here on out.
Perhaps realizing the same, Uther sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I did not come here to argue with you, Arthur. I came here to see how you were mending and if your felt well enough to attend the feast tonight. There is also the matter of…" he gestured awkwardly to the package resting in his lap.
Ashamed, Arthur really did subside this time, "I am sorry, Father. I did not mean to appear ungrateful. I appreciate you checking up on me."
Both Uther's eyebrows shot to his hairline. He looked at least as uncomfortably caught off-guard as Arthur did, "That's…well…that's a mature response and I—"
A knock interrupted him. "Sire…King Uther…! Sir Godwin and his court have arrived."
Sighing, Uther rose to his feet. With something that passed as a smile, he handed Arthur the package, "Here you are, Arthur. I will check back later."
"Thank you, Father," Arthur responded softly. It rattled slightly as he accepted it.
The corner of Uther's lips lifted. Without warning, he gave Arthur's head a quick tousle, as he had not since his son was a lad, "Happy Yule, Arthur."
Arthur raised his head with a faint grin, a hand going to his hair, "Happy Yule, Father."
He watched as Uther made his way to the door, staring a little at the man's back when he paused. "Oh, and about that manservant of yours…"
Arthur frowned, sure his father had no desire to start another argument, "Yes, Father? What about him?"
Uther pushed open the door and stepped outside into the hallway. Pausing, he turned around to regard his son with a frank gaze that unnerved Arthur: "He cannot be a knight. But, loathe as I am to admit it, he does deserve a reward. You will have your own Council one day, Arthur. There is no law preventing him from becoming an Advisor. Think on it, will you?"
Arthur's jaw dropped and Uther shut the door.
IOIOIOIOIOI
Just as the bell struck the ninth hour of morning, Merlin returned, carrying a load of fresh bandages and half a dozen glass jars.
"Still in one piece, I see," his manservant observed with a warm smirk, joining him near the window where the snow could still be seen falling softly outside.
Arthur rolled his eyes, pushing off the window where he had leant his forehead against its cold, frost-encrusted glass, "My father is not that bad, Merlin, and he is still the reigning king. You ought to show more respect."
"Fine. Then, with all due respect…I could hear your argument clear down the hallway!"
Arthur flushed to the roots of his hair, "Er…y-you did? H-How much?"
Merlin's smirk softened as he set down the jars and bandages on the table, keeping a small, brown-paper-wrapped parcel in his hand, "Enough to know you were arguing about me again. Truly, Arthur, I appreciate it, but—"
"Stop," Arthur's palm cut off the rest of Merlin's remark, but the accompanying retort fell easily from the prince's lips, "and shut up while you're at it. Idiot. You are always going to be worth it."
His voice fell to a murmur, "…Especially after last night. I—"
Merlin shook his head (not without a small blush), gently tugging Arthur's hand away from his mouth, "Arthur, no. Stop apologizing, you prat. You already apologized enough last night—"
Arthur shook his head this time, gazing earnestly up at his beloved friend, "I will never be able to apologize enough, Merlin. And I-I…I am sorry for this morning, too. I-I didn't want to send you away, but my father—"
Merlin released a not-entirely-steady breath out and reached up to press his (somewhat) free hand's fingertips to Arthur's lips, "Hush, Arthur, it's fine. I-I may not have liked it, but it gave me enough time to pick up something else."
He obviously meant the package nudging gently against Arthur's cheek. Despite himself, Arthur's eyes softened, "You didn't have to get me anything, Merlin."
"Of course, I did. It's Yule, Arthur," he dropped his hand, the package still gripped tightly in his fist.
Arthur snorted, "Astute observation, Merlin. I would never have guessed!"
Merlin graced him with a semi-serious scowl and a light bop on the nose as he was drawn closer to prince, "I don't have to give it to you now, you know."
A glimpse of white teeth and Arthur's smirk curled upwards at the corners as he pressed his forehead against Merlin's: "I know," he murmured. "But if we are going to do this now, Merlin…"
He drew away and flashed the other man a tiny grin, releasing him to carefully pick his way over to the large chest sitting against his wall, pleased to feel barely a twinge beneath his ribs.
Of course, that was before he attempted to lift its lid, incidentally one a great deal heavier than the lid he had tried to lift off the kettle in the kitchen last night.
Merlin was across the room in an instant, one hand on Arthur's elbow and the other pressing against his wounded side, as the Crown Prince gave a low, pained hiss, "Arthur…! I told you last night…! You shouldn't be-!"
"—Lifting," Arthur completed with a groan. "I know. I just…forgot. And I don't need your other type of medicine right now, Merlin!" added hurriedly when he saw his best friend's eyes flash with a telltale hint of gold.
Merlin's lips compressed into a displeased frown, but Arthur sighed in relief as the gold burnishing in their depths disappeared.
The silence that fell between them felt awkward, and Arthur absently noted that sweat began collecting in his palms when Merlin turned away to conceal a sharp flash of hurt.
Swallowing, Arthur let his hands drift to his right side, clutching at the dull ache that resided there and willing it to subside. He watched Merlin lift the lid of the cherrywood trunk, swallowing again when his manservant went still, obviously having located what Arthur intended to retrieve from it.
"The three packages on top are for you," he explained quickly, reaching out to grip the leather sleeve of his manservant's jacket. "The others are for Guinevere, Gaius, Leon, and my father. I-I will give the others their gifts when they stop by later today. I-If you're going to give me your present now…i-it's only fair that you open your presents from me."
"Arthur—" Merlin's voice caught in his throat.
Arthur stubbornly shook his head and locked his jaw, "Don't," stated emphatically. His voice turned rough, "Let me do this."
Merlin glanced up shyly at him and nodded once, cradling all four packages—including his for Arthur—in both hands.
Arthur released a breath he had not realized he had held, tugging on Merlin's arm to lead him over to the bed. Once there, they sat side-by-side on the mattress, peeking shyly at each other.
"O-Open yours first," Arthur ordered, hoping the crack in his voice was not noticeable.
Merlin was already shaking his head, "A-Arthur, I shouldn't—You shouldn't—"
"Please, Merlin," the plea stopped his best friend cold. Arthur glanced away, heat on his cheeks, and ran a hand anxiously through his hair, "I-I haven't ever really exchanged gifts with…with a friend before. Not like…not like this…"
"But…your father? A-And…Morgana?"
The heat on Arthur's cheeks grew, "It's not…" his breathing hitched, "it's not quite the same. I-I've never…sat with them as they opened their gifts. Usually…Usually we do that on our own," Arthur swallowed, "and see each other at the feast."
Silence stretched out between them, long enough that Arthur grew keenly aware of his beloved friend's eyes on him.
…Then Merlin's warm hands clasped either side of his face and his brilliant grin shone out at Arthur, "We'll open them together."
"…I think I'd like that," he admitted shyly, after a moment's pause. Merlin's face lit up, and the prince watched him fondly, "Well? Give it here, then."
His best friend laughed and took his hand, retrieving the package from his lap where it had fallen and placing it in Arthur's palm. Gently, he curled the older man's fingers around it and let go, "Here you are. Get to it!"
"Merlin…" Arthur could probably say something about how he should be the one giving orders, but instead he simply shook his head, that same huge and heavy feeling from earlier rearing its head again.
Merlin knew what he intended to say, anyway, if his cheeky grin was anything to go by.
Nudging his best friend's shoulder with his own, Arthur turned his attention to undoing the twine wrapped around his package. He heard paper rustle beside him as Merlin did the same.
Arthur's fingers stumbled a little on the ties, not quite functioning properly yet. So, when he heard Merlin's gasp a few moments later, he naturally chose to disregard his own package as it fell open in his lap and glanced up at his manservant, hoping to gauge his reaction. Nervously, he wet his lips, "Do…Do you like it?"
"Arthur…" Merlin's voice cracked as he tenderly caressed the silver chain coiled in his palm, unable to speak for a few moments.
Arthur swallowed, feeling a great deal more vulnerable than he felt he ought, "I-I had intended for you to open it last night. More…More than anything else…I wanted to give you this. It's—"
"It's too much, Arthur," Merlin protested, his fingers shaking as they closed around the small, perfect figurine of the merlin attached to the chain.
Arthur set his jaw, "No, it's not."
"Arthur…" Merlin shook his head, "I'm just a servant. I have never had anything so grand. What will the knights think? Or your father? I—"
"I don't give a rat's arse what they think, Merlin. You are not 'just' a servant. You never have been—not to me. I thought I made that clear last night—!"
"Arthur…it's beautiful. But I-I can't accept this-"
Arthur set his jaw again, tugging the necklace out of his best friend's grasp. Before the other could object, he leaned forward and slipped the chain around Merlin's neck, deftly fastening it behind the younger man's head. As the chain settled and the merlin pendant fell at his beloved friend's heart, Arthur sat back, hiding his wince as he crossed his arms over his chest, "There. Now you have to."
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything, Arthur glaring at his beloved manservant and his manservant staring back with wide eyes.
Then Merlin's arms reached out and slid behind Arthur's back.
"…You utter clotpole," the choked insult (even though it was more of an endearment, really) fell into the crook of Arthur's neck.
In response, the prince let out a shaky laugh and hesitantly curled his arms around Merlin's waist, "I am glad it meets your approval. Did you really think I would take 'no' for an answer?"
Merlin sighed, and squeezed him, mindful of his ribs and healing side, "And did you think I would really be able to say 'no' to something that's clearly important to you?" asked softly as he pressed his nose to Arthur's shoulder.
Arthur shyly nuzzled against the raven strands behind Merlin's ear, "I thought…well, maybe…."
Merlin shook his head and Arthur reluctantly let him go, though they kept their arms wrapped loosely around each other. A timid smile graced his best friend's lips as he gazed up at Arthur and in that moment, the prince realized Merlin's grin had somehow become one of the most precious things in the world to him.
Blinking back the sudden, stinging tears, he murmured, "Y-You still have two other presents, you know. Th-They're not much, and a-actually…neither is this," he touched the merlin pendant still hanging at his best friend's heart, "c-considering what you've given to me th-these past three years…b-but—"
"Arthur," Merlin shook his head and leaned forward, sliding his own gift out of the prince's lap. In a near-echo of Arthur's earlier actions, he reached up and carefully looped the braided leather cord over his beloved friend's head and around his neck, smiling at the two carved wooden figurines that fell against Arthur's heart. "It's enough. It's more than enough."
Gently, the prince reached up and touched the two wooden pendants, marveling at the too-perfect details of the dragon and the dove. "You made this?" asked with a tentative sort of fragility that had Merlin wanting to sweep him back into his arms.
Instead, the warlock tilted his head, a familiar, lopsided grin tugging at his lips, "'Course."
Arthur jerked his head up and repeated, with complete certainty, "You made this."
Merlin rolled his eyes fondly, "I just said that…"
Arthur could only shake his head, "Merlin—"
"Shush," Merlin pressed his thumbs against Arthur's lips as both hands came up to cradle his beloved friend's jaw, smiling into the over-bright blue eyes that gazed back at him. "Like I believe someone said earlier…you are always going to be worth it."
Arthur inhaled sharply, feeling a tremor in his chest that had little to do with his recent injury.
Both ways, he reminded himself shakily. This works both ways…
However, that thought sat uneasy with him:
You were my first friend, the first person I could really call a friend—because you taught me how. And you expect me to think this is enough to thank you?
Even now, three years after having met him, Arthur was unable to comprehend how and why he had been blessed with Merlin as a friend. And after last night—
Well…there is that…
Arthur swallowed, "Merlin?"
Merlin offered up another gentle smile, clearly able to tell that Arthur felt overwhelmed, "What do you need, Arthur?"
"There is one more thing…"
To Be Concluded (For Real, I Promise!)…
Author's Note: One more chapter to go—really. This turned into a monster of a fic, but I think it was worth it :). Stay tuned for the Epilogue!