A/N: The end has arrived! :-D

Y'all, I never expected that it would take me so long to post this whole thing, oof. But we're here! And I am sorry that I won't be writing the last chapter and epilogue, but I hope that this chapter ends... decently? And if not, and there are questions left, please let me know! And maybe... maybe I might be able to write a quick end chapter to this story, just a small little thing. It prolly won't be very good since I don't remember much about the details of this story, but if people really would like it, I might be able to do something. Maybe.

Anyway! Thank you all so, so much for your kind words. It really has helped me a lot. And while I still can't say I love this story, I am proud of it, in some ways. So thank you all for hanging around so long, and for dealing with my nonsense, ha.

The chapter title comes from the song Madrigal, by Rush. Rush is one of my favorite bands, and this is a pretty good song. Another band I like (Ninja Sex Party/NSP) has a good cover of it if anyone wants to listen. :-)

Enjoy!

~~~When the dragons grow too mighty

To slay with pen or sword.

I grow weary of the battle,

And the storm I walk toward.

When all around is madness,

And there's no safe port in view.

I long to turn my path homeward,

To stop a while with you~~~

Being back in the castle, after all that had happened, felt insanely weird to Arthur. Like he was doing something wrong, standing in these halls that once were so familiar, but were now foreign and strange.

Maybe, he mused, touching the crown on his head, it was because he was the prince, now.

Arthur didn't know how he felt about that, to be honest. It wasn't how things were supposed to be. In the week since the battle, where he'd almost died, and then thought he'd lost his beloved, things had been so strange.

After his- well-earned, he felt- nap, he'd been rudely awoken by his father had returned from his talks with his uncles, waking Arthur by accident when he let out a strangled sound. Merlin had still been asleep, so Arthur had carefully gotten out of the cot and had approached his father, no idea where he stood with the older man.

His father had looked awkward, Arthur recalled. Halfway between angry, confused, disgusted, afraid, and a lot of other emotions that Arthur just summed up into 'awkward' to save time. They had just stared at one another for long seconds, before Uther had sighed, shaking his head. They were still in the broken red tent, Arthur steadfastly refusing to be apart from Merlin, so they had to keep their voices down. Merlin had exhausted himself. While Arthur still felt weak from the bitter magic that had attacked everything within him, he was doing… okay. Not good, not bad. Just okay. He'd get better, though. Merlin had seen to that.

"So. You. And the… sorcerer," his father had spat, Arthur scowling, both at the vitriol in the man's voice, and the fact he hadn't bothered to keep his voice down, the bastard.

"Keep your voice down, Merlin is sleeping. And what about us?" Arthur hissed, though his heart had begun so beat so fast it likely wasn't healthy. He couldn't help it. For years he had denied this part of himself, the part that liked men just as much (if not more so, if he was being honest) as women, all because of the fear of what the man in front of him would think. He still remembered the way he would talk to Gwaine when they were children, sneering about the dalliances his friend would have with other men, unashamed. He was shamed, now, remembering the masked hurt on the rugged face, Gwaine shrugging and saying it felt good, so why deny himself? Arthur hadn't understood. Not then.

It didn't matter as much, now. He'd come to terms with his sexuality over a year ago, accepting his love for Merlin soon after. Merlin was the world to him, always would be. He'd adore the man until the end of time, that much he knew. Even as his father stared at him with that unreadable expression, Arthur knew it didn't matter. What his father thought… it didn't matter.

In fact, part of him was kind of miffed (actually, was fully pissed off) that the first thing the man said to him wasn't 'oh, my dearest and darlingest son, please oh please forgive me for almost killing you, despite your insistence that my action would, in fact, lead to that outcome! Whatever can I do to have you forgive me, my dearest son?'

No. It was an admonishment for the one thing Arthur had going for him in life. Thanks ever so, father dear.

Uther just stared at him, his jaw working as he clearly fought to find the right words to say. Arthur had said nothing, not feeling particularly inclined to be kind to his would-be murderer (yes, Arthur was being uncharitable. His father couldn't have truly expected that he'd actually die. But that didn't excuse how he had refused to listen and, as such, had led to his almost death. So, it was his right to be pissed, thanks). Let him struggle, Arthur had thought, growing more annoyed with each second that passed that he wasn't holding Merlin in his arms.

"You truly trust him, then? No enchantments?"

Arthur had wanted to scream, then, and would have if Merlin hadn't been asleep. He had settled for glowering at his father, before turning his back to the man and walking back to Merlin. Part of him had wanted to say nothing, let his silence be answer, but he had a feeling his father wouldn't have accepted that. Pity.

"I trust him more than I have ever trusted anyone. I don't know much about magic, not really. It's a part of me, I know that, but I can't perform it. There so much about magic that is foreign to me, unknown. What I do know, however, is that magic is only skin deep. It cannot penetrate into the deepest parts of your soul. Not truly."

Arthur had paused, then, and looked down at Merlin, who was snuffling softly, like he always did. He couldn't help the fond smile as he tenderly brushed back the dark bangs, which were a mess, like always. God, how he adored that man.

"What I feel for Merlin is deeper than anything I've ever felt before. No enchantment can be this strong. This all-encompassing. I don't expect you to understand. But he is more than the man I love," Arthur had wavered here, the age-old fear filling him at what he was confessing. What he was revealing. But… but, he had thought, smile impossibly soft as he looked upon Merlin, sleeping soundly, it didn't matter. He continued. "He is the hope for Camelot. I trust you know of the Prophecy? I've mentioned it before."

Uther had hesitated, then, but had nodded slowly.

"Yes. Of course, I know of it."

Arthur had waited a second for more words to come, but it was obvious his father had finished speaking. Arthur had even looked over at the man, who was scowling down at the sleeping former prince. Arthur had hated the look. Uther wasn't allowed to see Merlin like this, all soft and gentle in sleep. It wasn't right. It may have been for that reason that Arthur answered a bit more forcefully than he might otherwise have.

"Well, as I said, it's real. And it's about him. And me. I'm the Once and Future King, or whatever, and he's the warlock. We're both destined for the crown, me through prophecy, him through birth. Together, he and I will reunite Albion into one, United Kingdom. We will usher in a time of peace and prosperity. Merlin wants that, father. And I do, too. I know you don't trust magic. I had my doubts too, before Merlin. I just ask..." Arthur had paused again, voice softening as he sighed, "please, give him a chance. You are my father. I don't want to hate you. You already almost killed me. Don't make this worse."

Uther had flinched at that, face red, with embarrassment or anger, Arthur hadn't known. Before the man did anything rash, he'd visibly steeled himself, sighing and shaking his head.

"And how do you propose to rule together, then?" Uther demanded, eyes hard. Arthur smirked, hand absentmindedly reaching up to grasp the signet ring he still wore. Merlin had said that he could enlarge the ring to fit Arthur's finger once they married. Arthur liked the idea of that.

"Well, we had figured through the traditional means," Arthur had shrugged, doing his best to keep his tone light, trying hard to not let the anxiety he felt flood him show through. Uther had hummed, a sneer in his lips. It didn't look purposeful. Arthur didn't know if it was better or worse than if it had been.

"And you think the people will just accept this, Arthur? I never took you for a fool."

Arthur jaw had clenched, shaking his head as it was his turn to scowl. The more he spoke with his father, the more he grew to detest the man. It depressed him greatly.

"People will have no choice. And besides, it's the best option. I represent non-magical people, having their best interests in mind, their hopes and desires. Merlin represents magic incarnate, powerful and just. Our union would mark the union of magic and might, bound together at last. It would bring peace to the land, showing that magic users and non-magic users can coexist peacefully. I know… I know homosexuality is not often condoned, but neither is it publicly condemned. There are no current laws banning it. And I'm sure people will see it as the political advantage it is. I don't know much of nobility, mother not wishing to be reminded of what she'd lost, but I know enough that marriage often isn't for love, but for political gain. Well, this can be both."

Arthur had finished speaking, shuffling only slightly in his discomfort. Merlin and him had talked about it, of course, they had. If the politics weren't involved, Arthur was sure their relationship would have progressed much slower, given the time to build naturally. But they didn't have such a luxury. Not really.

But… well, that had raised a question in Arthur's mind. One he still pondered, a week later. Technically speaking, his father was still king. And, not that Arthur would have ever admitted it, even on pain of death, but he'd always assumed that, well… if they were to assume the crown, his father would have been, well…

Out of the picture.

And he hated himself for having assumed that. But he'd seen his father. He'd never expected that the man would have ever changed his ways. Would ever back down from the plan he'd spent twenty some odd years planning. Even now, he was terrified that this peace was short lived. That his father hadn't changed his ways, that he had another trick up his sleeve. Yes, they had destroyed the chalice, but his father was still king.

Which was the crux of it all, wasn't it?

He and Merlin couldn't be joint kings if his father still held the crown. And unless Uther abdicated, they'd have to wait for the man to die before having a rightful claim. Uther had killed the previous king, fair and square. According to the laws and customs of Camelot, he was rightful king. Merlin could challenge him to single combat, as was his right as former crown prince, but doing so would mean his father would have to die. And as much as he was disappointed in the man… as angry as he was…

He didn't hate him.

And he sure as hell didn't want him to die.

So where did they go from there? From the present they were into the future he and Merlin had envisioned? War had not been what he'd thought it would be (and he was trying desperately to not remember the boy, his hands still stinging with the red hot blood he was sure was still there, his nails scratching at the skin until it was raw), and he had no idea what the future held. His father had almost killed him. His father (he would later learn, Merlin whispering the words to him, Arthur's head swimming) had given up his twenty-year plan, to subsequently save him, trusting a warlock in the process. His father was king, and he was… well, Prince, he supposed. How the turns tabled.

"You truly love him, don't you?" A musing voice had asked, pulling him from his thoughts. Arthur could not read the expression on his father's face. Truly, this time. It was a complete mask, with the most peculiar look he'd ever seen on any man's face. Arthur couldn't even begin to compare it. It was like nothing he'd ever seen. For that reason, he had felt his heart speed up as his palms began to sweat. Arthur could only nod, sharp, as he looked back at Merlin. Despite himself, he felt his body relax as he stared at his love. He didn't care who was watching him in that moment. He absentmindedly grabbed his ring again. He'd been doing that a lot lately, when lost in thought. Gwaine had teased him about it, when the man saw, but Arthur knew he was happy for him, truly.

His father sighed, shaking his head. Arthur didn't turn to look at him, just stared at Merlin and saw his father in his periphery.

"I don't approve, Arthur. But… I suppose that doesn't matter, does it? You trust him. I fear I never will. But I suppose you are right about one thing. A union between you and him would unite Camelot. But Arthur. Just because you trust him does not mean that magic is not evil. You've seen what sorcerers have done to our people, what's to stop them from trying to harm us again?"

Arthur had thought of that. He'd pondered it for hours and hours, ever since he'd realized he loved Merlin and the magic he utilized. Carefully, Arthur formulated his words.

"Magic isn't evil, father. It's… it's like a sword. In the hands of an expert, it can be a thing of beauty. But, give it to the wrong person, it can do deadly harm. Give it to an evil person, and it can take hundreds of lives. But the sword itself is not evil. It is a tool, a thing that can bring about death, or freedom, depending on who wields it. Merlin and I can create laws. Rules, limiting the use of magic for evil. For harm. Same as we can limit the use of swords and weapons, without outright banning it. And yes, some people will resist. People always resist change. And some people will use magic for evil, to harm others. But it's a minority. If we create a fair and just land for all, peace will prosper. I guarantee it, father. I swear."

Uther had stared at him for a long minute, before nodding minutely. He was wearing his crown again, making him look regal.

"Very well. You should get some rest, my son. My apologies for waking you. I can have another cot brought in, a bedroll-"

"That won't be necessary, father. Thank you."

Uther had a look like he'd bitten a lemon, but just nodded before exiting the tent.

Arthur had lied back down with Merlin after that but hadn't slept. They'd both woken for a small dinner a short time later, before falling asleep, tangled together. The next day, his father had declared they would all head back to Camelot together, the prisoners being released on the condition that they don't fight. Arthur and his uncles had informed their remaining men and women that they were negotiating a deal, so it would be best to do as the king said. None of them knew that the spell that prevented magic had broken, so the sorcerers just accepted it, without complaint.

Arthur had been relieved to find that none of his friends had been killed. Pellinore had been badly wounded, and was still in and out of consciousness, but everyone else had only sustained minor to moderate injuries. Lance had a cool scar on his cheek now, which Gwen fussed over, but Arthur knew it would make the man look more rugged.

Arthur had been most relieved to know that Gwaine had made it out alright. He hadn't even been injured, as he had stayed with the archers, Percy practically sitting on him to prevent him from running into the fray. Arthur had smiled gratefully at the larger man, who just shrugged.

"Gwaine may be an annoying arse, but I wasn't about to let him die in battle."

Gwaine had rolled his eyes, lifting his hand in an obscene gesture. They all had laughed, but talk shifted to a lighter topic, away from battle and war.

It had been when they'd arrived at the castle, a day later, that things got really… well, interesting.

For one, standing, at the gate that welcomed the army home, was his mother, head held high while wearing the richest clothes he'd ever seen on the woman. Where she'd gotten such an outfit, Arthur had no idea at the time, but he'd laughed and ran up to her, grabbing her and spinning her around. She'd laughed in return, shaking her head at his antics. He knew he was acting like a fool in front of an entire army, but he hadn't cared. He hadn't realized how worried he'd been for his mother until that moment. If she'd been caught, if she was alright, etc.

"Are you okay?" He'd asked, worry filling his eyes as he looked her over, checking for any injury or hurt. She'd just tsked, nodding swiftly.

"I am fine, my love. We hadn't been caught, but when I heard the news, I made my presence known. Many of the high-ranking officials your father had appointed were old friends of ours, them remembering me in an instant. I figured it might be best to greet the returning army. How are you, my love?"

Arthur hadn't had the chance to say anything, as there had been a strangled sound behind him, making him turn to look in concern.

Standing, not ten paces behind him, was his father. His father, who had the widest eyes, looking at his mother like he was seeing a ghost. His mother stared back, face a mask, but Arthur could feel the tension in her body. Arthur had stepped back, smirking slightly. He may have problems with his father, but he knew how desperately his mother loved the man.

Their reunion had to wait as the injured were brought into the castle, though his father did not take his eyes off his mother the entire time. Ygraine had just stared calmly back, letting none of her inner thoughts get revealed on her face. Arthur had to hand it to her; she had an excellent poker face.

His father and mother disappeared soon after the army entered the city proper, heading off to talk, Arthur assumed. Gwaine had grinned an evil grin, however, and muttered what he was sure they were truly doing. Before Arthur had the chance to wallop the idiot, Merlin had whapped him on the head (lightly, mores the pity) with his staff. Gwaine had pouted for a second, before sniffing.

"Not my fault you all are afraid of the truth."

"They're my parents, Gwaine," Arthur had rejoined, teeth gritted as his nose wrinkled. "Don't be disgusting."

Gwaine had then looked mournful for a second, though his eyes were twinkling, which had made Arthur despair of whatever nonsense he was about to spew.

"Ah, how heartbroken I am, for the lovely Lady Ygraine to be taken off the market. Years of courting, squandered. How I shall miss my love, my dearest-"

"Gwaine, if you value your life, you will stop talking. Now," Arthur had hissed grimacing at the mental image his friend had inspired. Arthur knew the man was joking (at least... he was 90% positive he was joking… alright, 75%… well…) but he truly was not in the mood. Gwaine just laughed, grinning his roguish grin. Arthur had smiled begrudgingly back, before heading into the castle himself. He had no idea if he was relieved to be back or not.

Arthur hadn't told his friends how close to death he'd gotten, just shrugged when asked what happened, though he knew he'd eventually have to. They were already worried enough, Gwaine especially, a tension in his eyes that went against the easy tone of his voice. Arthur knew the man had killed during the battle. Gwaine had killed before, bandits and the like, but he'd never taken pleasure in it. He didn't know if any of his other friends had taken lives, but by the empty look in Lance's and Elyan's eyes, he wouldn't doubt it.

The following days had been a whirlwind. Arthur had been instructed a couple days prior, about two after arriving at the castle, that he was to be officially crowned prince, his father watching the ceremony with critical eyes. Gaius had been there, smiling encouragingly at Arthur. Merlin hadn't been. It had been decided that it was best if the former prince was not at the current prince's coronation.

Besides, Merlin spent most of his time, when he wasn't glued to Arthur's side, with Freya. It made Arthur smile to remember their reunion, how Merlin had cried when he'd put his arms around the frailer girl, Freya clinging tightly back. Arthur could see how shaken she was about the whole thing, but she'd been over the moon to learn about their, tentative, betrothal plans. Things had been put on hold since he'd been crowned prince, neither Merlin nor Arthur certain how to go about things now that they were alive, but so was Uther.

The nights had been good, though. Better than good. They both were staying in Merlin's old rooms, which technically were Arthur's now, but he'd changed almost nothing about them, other than having added a new wardrobe for his things. He still wore his peasant clothes, though his father had had him fitted for richer wear. All in all, not much had changed about their interactions at night, Arthur still doing the menial labor, though Merlin would scoff at him about it.

"You're the prince, Arthur," Merlin would drawl, rolling his eyes. "Princes don't scrub floors or clean out chamber pots."

Arthur had scowled back, though he had a hint of mirth in his eyes.

"Well, maybe they should. Builds character."

Merlin had just rolled his eyes again but smiled fondly at him. Arthur was sure he'd get out of the habit of doing his own chores eventually, but for the moment, it was nice. Comforting. A stable thing in an unsteady world.

Sleeping beside Merlin was the best part of the day, in his mind. They still hadn't gone all the way, Merlin's magical exhaustion still evident in how he'd take just a little too long to catch his breath after an intense snogging session. But that was fine. Arthur knew he was ready, now. Once Merlin was one hundred percent better, well… Arthur couldn't help the wicked grin on his face.

So things were good. Not perfect. Not great. But good. Stable. They were in a period of uncertainty, Uther still king, Ygraine refusing the crown but agreeing to remarry Uther (since their old marriage records had been destroyed to protect them, along with Kilgharrah's memory spell), and Arthur the prince with Merlin by his side. What would happen next, Arthur had no idea. But he was sure something would happen soon.

As he stood, in a random corridor in the castle, staring at the courtyard below, he wondered what that 'something' would be. If it would be good or not. He hoped so. He was so tired of conflict in his life.

Arthur was drawn from his thoughts, however, when he heard a humming sound come from behind him before warm arms wrapping tightly around his waist as a chest pressed against his back. Arthur didn't start, as he knew those arms intimately. He just relaxed into the embrace.

"What are you thinking about, my love?" He heard a voice muse in his ear. Arthur hummed, shaking his head, making the crown shift dangerously. He fixed it with a scowl. Merlin laughed softly at the look, kissing his cheek tenderly.

"Just thinking," Arthur hummed, putting his hands atop of Merlin's, linking their fingers deftly. The best part of the entire thing was how free he could be with Merlin. While they had never declared anything officially, the entire castle seemed to know that they were courting. They got some disgusted looks thrown their way, but for the most part their relationship seemed to be accepted. Arthur was glad. He didn't want to have to hide this. Not from anyone. They were in uncharted territory now, but he'd be damned if he let Merlin and him be shamed for their love. They'd faced more than enough adversity to enjoy their lives together now.

"You, thinking? Now I'm really worried," Merlin joked, causing Arthur to scoff again. He spun in the arms, crossing his own as he pouted, glaring at Merlin. Merlin just laughed, smirking. The man then leaned forward to kiss the pout away. Arthur wanted to hold out, to keep his pretense of offense, but he couldn't. Not when Merlin was kissing him so sweetly, his lips warm and supple, his hands drifting up and down his sides with feather light touches. Arthur held out for only a split second before giving in, holding on to Merlin like his life depended on it. And, honestly? Maybe it did.

"Piss off," he muttered, swallowing Merlin's laugh with his lips. Hm. Turns out the only thing better than hearing Merlin's laugh was hearing it smothered against his lips.

"No. Seriously, Arthur. What's wrong?" Merlin asked a moment later, pulling back and looking at him with mildly concerned eyes. Arthur just sighed, shaking his head again. He'd hoped the man had forgotten about his upset. But that would have been easy, huh? Arthur scowled as the crown tilted again, hating the damn thing so very much. Merlin saw and snickered, reaching up to fix it with hands that seemed very practiced at the motion. "Now you see why I always hated to wear the blasted thing. You'll get used to it."

"I shouldn't have to get used to it," he muttered, shaking his head. He sighed again as he remembered why he'd been feeling so discomforted lately. Well, might as well confess. "It's your crown. Not mine. This whole thing just feels so… so wrong, Merlin. We won, but we also lost, and now we're somewhere stuck in between. It's bizarre."

Merlin hummed, shrugging his shoulders slightly. He didn't seem too troubled, but Arthur could see a hint of tension in his blue eyes.

"It seems a bit anticlimactic, I suppose. After everything that happened the past few months, to just be here and not be constantly on edge… I have no idea what your father is planning. Your mother doesn't seem concerned, the few times I saw her, so hopefully she's working on it. Maybe… maybe we'll be able to have some time before the crown gets passed to us, after all. I don't mean to offend, but while I don't trust your father, I do trust your mother, and your uncles. They'll make sure things work out. I'm sure of it."

Arthur looked at Merlin, scrutinizing to make sure he meant his words, before he hummed in response, nodding absently. He'd been thinking similar things. It just… god. It seemed so easy. After everything, for things to go so well at the moment… he was just waiting for the world to jump up and yell 'AHA! Got ya!' And for everything to go to shit again.

"Would you be alright with that? Letting my father be king and me be prince for a while?"

Merlin tilted his head, a considering expression on his face. He then smiled, eyes flashing with mirth.

"Honestly? I think it would be kind of fun, watching you handle the pressure of being prince while I get to laze about all day."

Arthur rolled his eyes at that, scowling. Merlin just leaned forward and kissed him again, grinning like a mad man. Arthur allowed it for a second before pulling away.

"You know, you can't just kiss me every time I'm pissed off at you. It won't work," he warned, though his eyes were shining. Merlin grinned, leaning forward, and resting his head on Arthur's chest, ear over his heart. It felt so domestic that Arthur almost wanted to cry, for some bizarre reason.

"Maybe not. But I can try," Merlin mumbled against his heart, a minute later. Arthur had nearly forgotten what he'd said to prompt the response, too busy running careful fingers through his betrothed's hair. Arthur would have made a witty response, but he was too relaxed to even care. Instead, he chuckled, leaning down to kiss the top of Merlin's hair with unbearable tenderness. Eugh. It was official. He was becoming a girl.

But strangely…

Strangely, he didn't mind so much. Huh.

"Want to go down to the garden and have a stroll?" Arthur asked, nuzzling the top of Merlin's head. Merlin hummed, looking up a little and nodding.

"Yeah. I think I'd like that."

With that, Merlin pulled away, smiling as he grabbed Arthur's hand. Arthur smiled widely back, weaving their fingers together, with a heart that felt so full he wanted to cry.

Things wouldn't always be like this, he knew that. It was going to get difficult again, one way or another. This reprieve of peace was nice, but they couldn't get used to it. Not fully. It wouldn't last.

They could, however, enjoy it while it lasted. And as he guided Merlin to the secluded arch in the garden, determined to make sure the only good memories Merlin had of the location were between the two of them, well.

He was sure he'd never forget these days.

~XoxoxoxoxoxoXoxoxoxoxoxoX~

Merlin was nervous about whatever Uther was planning.

And it was clear the king (and yes, that was an odd thought to think. Someone other than his own father, the king? Strange indeed) was planning something. It was noticeable in the way the man would look at Arthur and him sometimes, frowning, but not necessarily in anger or disgust. Oh, don't get him wrong. Uther would often have a disgusted look in his eyes when he saw them walking the castle, holding hands, or whispering secrets to each other, but this look was different. It was a plotting look. Calculating.

Two weeks had passed since the battle. Two weeks of, relative, peace. Merlin was trying so very hard to not let his guard down, to not let this reprieve trick him. He still had trouble with panic sometimes, when he'd hear the knights training (Arthur usually joining them, to get formal training for once) or would smell a particularly large bonfire. He'd yet to have a full-blown panic attack, but Merlin could feel it building within him. Gaius chastised him for using the cheering charm too much, saying that it was dangerous to do so.

"Too much false emotion can harm you, my boy. You must be careful," the older man had warned, though his eyes were sympathetic as he held Merlin's shaking hands, his eyes filling with tears as he remembered the nauseating stench of the blood river. He was beyond grateful to have Gaius back, but unfortunately seeing him reminded Merlin of everything that had happened, of their break in to Camelot, of Gwaine's subsequent severing, of the war and battle and… well, all of it, really. He'd almost had a panic attack, the first time he'd seen Gaius after everything, but had used the charm before it got too bad. But it wasn't a full-time solution, Merlin knew. Emotional charms could only work for so long before your true emotions were buried indefinitely, and you couldn't feel anything without the use of magic.

But what else was he to do? Things were so good, so very good, but they also were strange and unstable and that made Merlin nervous. His magic was still, two weeks later, not back to where it had been. He tired so much easier than he used to. Arthur noticed, giving him space, helping him, but Merlin hated it. He hated it. He felt like an invalid. Or a child.

He longed to take Arthur to bed and claim him as his own. But any time he even thought about it, a wave of tiredness would hit him, making him stumble. It was frustrating and he wished it would stop. He wanted to live his life. Not be bound by his ridiculous body.

He'd asked Gaius, a few days before, if he'd ever get better. Gaius had given him a soft, sympathetic, almost pitying look.

"You used up a lot of your power, Merlin. It might take weeks, even months before it fully returns. Magic doesn't like to be expended so much. You're lucky to be alive. Let your magic return gradually, or else it may never fully return."

That had scared him. The 'never fully return' part. It was what made him the most nervous, late at night, puttering around his rooms (well… Arthur's rooms. And yes, that was strange, having Arthur be the prince, but it was also… relieving. He'd always known Arthur would be amazing at it, better than him at any rate. The people adored Arthur, and with good reason). He'd wonder what he'd do if he never actually got better. He could feel most of his magic, but it was weaker. By a lot. It terrified him. He'd always been the best warlock in Albion. Who was he if not that?

It left him on edge. And the fact that Uther was clearly hiding something…

Merlin was currently sat in the training pitch, watching as Arthur trained with his fellow knights. Arthur had been officially knighted several days before, after he'd been crowned prince. Merlin didn't know why that was the order, but he trusted that there was a rhyme and reason to it. Probably. Merlin knew that it made Arthur ecstatic to be a knight, officially. He'd then knighted his own knights, his friends joining him in his rank. Gwaine was not quite as pleased as all the others, his view of knights more negative than the rest, but he did his best to be a capable knight. His wound had been looked over by Gaius and the residual pain was treated with the best medicine money could buy. While Gwaine would always have the scar, and some slight flare ups of pain, he'd be perfectly fine to 'play knight,' as he called it.

He was watching as Arthur fought two of his friends at once, the man laughing as he parried their thrusts. Merlin adored it, being able to watch his love look so carefree.

The remaining Mages that Merlin had trained were there, as well. So many of them had died during the siege that it hurt Merlin, who had been officially in charge of the Mages since he'd turned eighteen. They were his men, his people. That so many, more than half, had perished… it hurt him, deep inside.

Arthur had insisted that the Mages train with the knights, saying that magic and might together would build a stronger army than any one alone. The king had resisted at first, but Merlin knew Ygraine had talked him into it. Merlin swore, he adored that woman. He never got to see her much, as she was busy reuniting with her long lost husband, but whenever he did she always smiled at him, and would occasionally give him this big hug, the kind Merlin always assumed mothers were born knowing how to give. It made his chest ache something fierce, but it was good. So good.

Iseldir, who had been badly wounded but had mostly healed, was in charge of the Mages while Merlin rested (prince's orders, he thought with a roll of the eyes). The man was not in top shape, but he was good enough to call out orders and overlook the training. Most of the Mages were learning swordplay now, however. Merlin wouldn't admit it but it was kind of funny, watching the normally competent men flounder at the sight of a sword. He knew he'd been just as awful when he'd started learning swordplay, but it was still funny.

Arthur had gotten better at teaching, too. He wasn't in charge of the knights, Tristan doing that, but he did help his uncle when training the Mages. Something about him 'having experience teaching snooty sorcerers how to use a sword.' Merlin had glared when he'd heard that, but Arthur had just grinned, looking so carefree it was hard to stay angry.

He loved watching Arthur as he trained. He looked so relaxed, so at home. He'd been destined to be a knight, Merlin could tell. He was just so… natural at it. So at home. It made his heart ache with love to see, his face surely awash in a dopey grin.

As Merlin watched, Arthur laughing as Pellinore and Percy tried to defeat him to no avail, he felt so full it made him ache. Arthur always had been the best fighter of the bunch and he just looked so beautiful in his natural element. Merlin regretted how his father (and it was starting to hurt less, to think of the man. Merlin had even mumbled to Ygraine once, asking if she could talk to Uther about getting his father a tomb in the royal cemetery, to which Arthur's mother had smiled and nodded, saying she would most definitely do so) had banned swordplay for so many years. He wondered how incredible Arthur would be if he'd been allowed to foster his talents all this time. Though it would be hard for him to be any better than he currently was, Merlin privately felt.

However, the mood shifted as Arthur looked up and noticed something, his smiling face fading as a serious one overtook it. Merlin frowned and looked in the direction Arthur was looking, heart sinking when he saw Uther (King Uther, he supposed he should call him) stride towards his son, a beyond serious look on his face. Merlin stood carefully, approaching Arthur. He stopped a few feet away, close enough that Arthur knew he was there, but not too close as to truly interfere. While he didn't trust Uther, not one bit, he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. If only for the sake of Arthur and Ygraine.

"Arthur. Might I have a word, alone? There is important business to discus," Uther claimed when he arrived, looking briefly at Merlin. Merlin was sure he'd imagined it, but he could have sworn Uther nodded at him slightly, without a sneer too. Huh.

Arthur darted his eyes to Merlin, an eyebrow raised in question. Merlin just shrugged. He had no idea. Arthur looked back to his father, shrugging as well.

"I'm in the middle of training. Can it wait?"

Uther shook his head, frowning.

"No. This is of pressing urgency. You can return when we're done if you have time."

That had concerned Merlin. Arthur too, he could tell, though the man pushed it aside and nodded. He sheathed his sword and nodded at his father, indicating he should lead on. Uther did so, the pair marching up with heads held high, Arthur looking back at Merlin with a frown. Merlin wondered what it was that was so important that Uther, himself, had felt he needed to come and get Arthur, rather than sending a proxy in his stead.

He'd have to wonder for some time, he'd come to learn. Hours passed before he saw Arthur again, growing slowly more and more concerned as the minutes ticked by. He was pacing their shared rooms as their dinner slowly cooled when Arthur entered, eyes wide and hands shaking slightly.

Merlin instantly stood and made his way over to Arthur, concern filling him in a second.

"What happened? What did Uther say?" Merlin heard himself growl, his eyes narrow as he looked over his beloved. He didn't think Uther would physically harm Arthur, but what did he know, really, about the other man? Arthur, however, just shook his head, heading over to the settee and taking a seat, eyes still dazed. Merlin followed, feeling his concern mount.

Several moments passed, Arthur clearly trying to process something, before Merlin tried again.

"Arthur? Are you okay? What happened?"

Arthur jolted, his shoulder bumping into Merlin's lightly by accident. Damn it. Fucking, shit. Merlin knew he shouldn't have gotten comfortable. Nothing lasted forever, especially not things as good as this. Merlin waited with bated breath as Arthur steeled himself up enough to speak.

"My father… in order to further negotiations between magical and nonmagical people, my father has declared that he will be offering my hand in marriage, as a peace offering to the sorcerers who are angered by my father's rule," Arthur claimed, haltingly. He paused, eyes wide as he looked at Merlin. Merlin had stopped listening, though, his heart frozen with the words he'd heard. He sprang up, fury in his eyes as he began to pace, scowling bitterly. He'd heard enough. Oh, that utter bastard.

"That bastard! How dare he?! He knows what we are to each other, he knows how we feel! How the fuck can he do something like this?! Oh, I won't let him do this, Arthur, I swear. I'll challenge him to single combat myself, using a sword if I must, I swear," Merlin burst out, almost seeing red with his anger. And to think, he'd thought Uther was beginning to understand! Maybe even accept! Ha! While the king had never outright said anything against it, Merlin knew he disapproved. Knew it in how he'd glare at him, the few times they were in the same vicinity. Of course, he'd do something like this. Of fucking course.

"Merlin. Merlin! Calm down, darling, please. Listen, you've got to let me finish!" Arthur shouted, reaching out and grabbing him, halting his furious pacing. Merlin looked at Arthur, expecting to see worry or anger in his eyes. Instead, all he saw was…

Barely restrained happiness?

Wait. What? Before he could stop it, hurt began to blossom in his chest, his heart aching as he thought through the implications. Why was Arthur not furious about this? His father was going to offer his hand in marriage to some, some… woman, to take Arthur away from him! Why was Arthur not angry, too?

"W-why aren't you angry, Arthur? He's trying to split us up. I-I knew, I fucking knew he'd try something like this. He'd never accept you and me, together. Why… why aren't you upset?"

Arthur's face crumbled at his hurried words. Merlin tried to keep the hurt out of them, but it was impossible. He didn't understand. He could only watch, throat thick, as Arthur shook his head rapidly.

"No, Merlin. You don't understand. I never told you who my father is planning on giving my hand to," Arthur explained, words hurried, excitement coming back into his eyes. Well, why would it matter? After all, it's not like… Merlin paused, swallowing thickly. He tried not to, but a shot of hope struck his chest. But it was ridiculous. Uther would never… yeah, Ygraine and Arthur's uncles were taking with him, but Uther would never agree to… he wouldn't. He couldn't.

Right?

"Who?" Merlin rasped, searching Arthur's face desperately. He was trying so hard to push the hope down, to not let them get dashed when (and yes, it was when, it had to be) Arthur unintentionally crushed them. But Arthur just smiled, the dazed look from earlier faded until all Merlin could see was love, love, love.

"You, Merlin," Arthur breathed, grin so wide Merlin was sure it would hurt. It was Merlin's turn to be dazed, sure he'd misheard. Arthur laughed, shaking his head as he looked up to the ceiling, looking so impossibly happy that Merlin could barely look at him without being blinded. Like the sun. "H-he said that he'd thought about what we'd said, about our plan to get married. I-I told him about that, while you slept after the battle. He told me it was a good idea, that it would unite magic and non-magic peoples, giving both sides a prince- and later king- to follow. He also said that, if it was his choice to have us marry, then any naysayers against us would be angry at him, not us. After all, we can't deny an order from the king, yeah? And even if we act loving here, in the castle, most people wouldn't see that. So, it would work. H-he doesn't understand why we feel this way, he told me. Doesn't understand why I love a man. But he accepts that it is a good political match, and if it makes me happy, well. He'd allow it."

Merlin was sure the world had ended. That he'd died and gone to some bizarre heaven, where he was actually given permission, by one Uther Pendragon, to marry his son. Hell, not even permission. It was a fucking order, a political marriage for the betterment of the entire fucking kingdom. One where the decision wouldn't reflect poorly on them, to boot. It was insane. Much too good to be true. After a moment, Merlin shook his head and laughed, too dazed to do anything else.

"You're being serious, right? Uther said this? Your father, who hates me?"

He knew it was kind of dumb to ask, but he had to be certain. Arthur just grinned, eyes shining with joy as he lifted a hand to stroke Merlin's cheek. Merlin leaned into the touch, practically purring. Great Goddess above, did he enjoy the man's touch.

"I don't think he hates you, Merlin," Arthur chided, though he gave a little wince at Merlin's unimpressed glare, shrugging. "Well. Not anymore. He's just confused by our relationship. He'd always figured I'd hate you. He knew, apparently, that I was your servant. That had spurred him into implementing his plan when he did. But I think he genuinely is trying. He and mum are spending a lot of time together, most definitely doing things that wouldn't make me want to wash my brain out with boiling water to think about, and I think her influence is helping him adjust. He'd not perfect, I know. But, god, Merlin. He's actually trying. That has to mean something, yeah?"

Merlin couldn't help but nod, not wanting to counter Arthur when he looked and sounded so goddamn hopeful. And Merlin understood. Truly, he did. He was just having a hard time processing it all. How could Uther be so accommodating after years of hating all magic and magic users? It didn't make sense to him, and things that didn't make sense were dangerous, in his book.

Perhaps he truly did see the political benefit of it all. Or maybe he valued his son's happiness more than Merlin had given him credit for. Or maybe it was a trick, the king having some kind of plan up his sleeve. What could Merlin do about it, either way? What could he do to argue? It was what he had always wanted, after all.

"You don't trust it, do you?"

Arthur's voice startled him, Merlin almost forgetting he was still there. He smiled weakly, shrugging.

"Do you?"

Arthur looked contemplative at that, before nodding slowly.

"Honestly? Yeah. I do. I don't trust my father either, not fully. I want to, but… well, he did inadvertently try to kill me. But I do trust my mother, and my uncles. They wouldn't let him do this if they doubted him. And, as I said. I do think he's truly trying. He's still yet to apologize for what he did, but mother told me that's just how he always has been. He prefers actions to words. I think this is his apology."

Arthur leaned forward and kissed him lightly, then, a feather light kiss that made Merlin's toes curl with pleasure. Goddess above, he'd never get tired of such a sweet sensation. Merlin hummed against the warm lips and nodded.

"Alright, Arthur," he muttered. "Alright. If you trust this, then I will, too. It's still too good to be true, and I don't think I have it in me to fully believe in it. I can't bear of through of it getting taken away, is all. But I'm hopeful. That this actually will work out, between us. I love you, Arthur, with all my heart and soul. What will be was what was always meant to be, I'm sure of it. We'll figure this out. Together."

"Together," Arthur repeated, smiling.

"Now," Merlin continued, pulling back, and heading to the settee to sit. He had a feeling this following conversation would be best done seated. "Did he say when?"

Arthur grimaced, lightly, shrugging.

"He said, if you were feeling up to it, the sooner the better. By week's end, preferably. But we don't have to, so soon!" Arthur assured, likely seeing the wide eyed, probably panicked look on Merlin's face. Not that he was upset about marrying Arthur, god no! Just… well, he'd thought they'd have more time. Arthur continued, leaning forward to grab Merlin's hand between his warm palms, smile impossibly sweet. "We can wait, however long you want. Don't worry, Merlin, I won't force you to do anything you don't want. I swear."

Merlin understood what Arthur was saying, and he felt so touched at the words. But Merlin… huh. Merlin was realizing, as the moments passed and the thought sunk in, that it… well, that it wasn't a bad idea. Why not get married by week's end? They'd only been truly 'together' for a handful of months, all of them filled with heartache and strife. They'd practically begun their relationship with Merlin fearing Arthur had betrayed him, which was never the best start to a relationship, he felt. They'd not had any words for what they were to each other for weeks. Their relationship was far from a conventional one, that was for damn sure. But… but it worked. It wasn't perfect, but it was perfectly them. Arthur and Merlin. Merlin and Arthur. The Once and Future King and his Warlock Prince. Bound together for all eternity, destined to love one another with all they had in them.

Why not get married? They practically were, already. Merlin knew that they would have fights, that they'd make each other so angry, so blindingly enraged that they'd probably fancy themselves hating one another. But it wouldn't last. Gaius had been right. When love was true, it always found a way. And their love? God was it true.

There'd be bumps. There'd be strife. There likely would be heartache and sorrow aplenty. But as long as they were together, as long as they had each other, thick and thin? It would be worth it.

And yes. It could be a trap. Uther might be playing a trick on them, to lower their guard. But he also might not be. He might be serious. And Merlin couldn't live his life in fear, wondering if everything was a trap, and if everyone was out to get him. It wasn't the life he wanted to live, at any rate.

So, he'd trust, in Arthur if no one else. Like he always had. Arthur had never steered him wrong, yet. Not truly. After all, Morgana had never fully betrayed them, not Arthur. She'd done what she'd done out of the desire to do the right thing. And while he'd not truly forgiven her, not yet, he still cared for the girl and hoped that things worked out for her, her and Freya, who was finding it similarly hard to forgive. She would, of course. She and Morgana were in love. And you always forgave the person you loved, as long as their offense was not too great.

Regardless of that, he knew he would be able to trust Arthur's trust. He always had and always would. Arthur was his guiding light, his north star. He didn't know what to believe anymore, but he truly believed in Arthur and his overwhelming Goodness. In his Righteousness.

"No, Arthur," he eventually said, his smile growing slowly, until it was a full on, nearly manic grin, his eyes shining with the love he felt. He grabbed Arthur's other hand and held it tight, heart so full he was sure it was about to burst. "No. Week's end is fine. Hell, week's end is perfect. I've been in love with you from the moment I met you, shining and bright. You were the biggest prat, yes, but also the most stunning man I'd ever seen. I will follow you anywhere, Arthur. Marriage is nothing compared to what we already share. It's just a formal acknowledgement of the love we have. That's all. What does it matter, today, next week, a year? I don't plan on ever leaving your side, never again, regardless. So, yeah. Week's end is fine with me."

Merlin knew he was babbling. Knew his words were coming out hurried and excited, jumbling together like a child's puzzle. But his words were most definitely understood, as Arthur got the biggest, widest grin on his face that had to hurt like the devil, before the man surged forward and kissed him fiercely with all the love he had inside. Merlin couldn't help his moan as he kissed back, hand clutching Arthur with everything he had in him.

Things weren't perfect. They would never be perfect. But god, goddess, and Christ above, was he praying it would work out. That they'd find a way to make it work.

And as he laid in bed that night, drawing absent pictures on Arthur's bare skin, not quite going all the way, but getting close enough to leave them both breathless and panting, well.

It was perfect to him.

And that's all, folks!

:-D I wish I had more to say, but my head is killing me, so I'll end here. If y'all do like my writing, I am posting a new story sometime soon, for Daganronpa, though I tried to write it in a way that people without prior knowledge of the game will be able to follow, since it is an AU. I'm just really proud of this fic, for once, which all of y'all should know is super rare for me, honestly. If not, then I hope all of y'all have a wonderful life and that good things happen to you this year! 2020 was rough, but we made it, y'all! And hopefully 2021 will be better!

Fun fact, though: With all of the fics I've written since last April, when I started writing this story, I've written almost 1,000,000 words. And with the sequel to my Daganronpa fic, I will prolly be pushed over 1,000,000 by the start of April. I hadn't written 1,000,000 words in 8-9 YEARS of writing before this year. I barely had half a million. Welp. Guess Covid was good for my creative juices...?

Anyway. Bye y'all! :-D