Another Wednesday, another chapter! Time for Merlin and Arthur to continue their conversation!
Enjoy!
Chapter 6
"Since we're not hunting and all, maybe we could sit down somewhere," Arthur said.
Arthur. Wanting to sit down instead of traipsing through the forest. What was wrong with him? "I hope there's food in those bags, I'm famished,"Arthur added. Aha, that would explain it.
They found a clearing with a felled tree that could serve as a bench – Merlin stripped off some of the rotting bark with a wave of magic so they could sit on something relatively dry. Pieces of the bark and leafless branches ended up on a pile that Merlin set on fire with a fireball.
The fireball was entirely unnecessary, of course. A simple magical spark would have sufficed, even with the sodden wood. But he still had to show Arthur he hadn't been lying about being able to make fireballs. That was of course a very legitimate reason to make one. Besides, most of the conversation-they-weren't-really-having was about magic; he might as well be extra obvious about using it. As a desensitisation method. Though apparently Arthur had been on a desensitisation regime for months, and it hadn't worked so far.
Merlin rummaged through the bag, glad to find that George had given them rations of bread, cured meat, apples and a water skin. Dare he say it, there were enough rations for two. Had George stopped hating him so much now that Merlin apparently had a title that meant he would never be Arthur's manservant again?
Arthur had put down his bow, quiver and sword, and sat down on the tree-bench next to Merlin. He stole the apple Merlin was about to bite into right out of his hands. Merlin sighed and picked up the other one – what was the point in protesting? Arthur was always going to be snotty and boorish in the oddest of moments. In a way, Arthur was the one who had desensitised Merlin to royal shenanigans.
"So," Arthur said after he'd swallowed his first bite. "What's the conversation we're supposed to be having and that we're sitting on a rotting tree for instead of being comfortable in front of the fire in my rooms?"
"We have a fire here."
"Well spotted. Not the main point of my question, though."
Merlin gazed at Arthur and for a moment he was struck speechless, though he didn't know if it was his avoidance of the subject or the sight before him.
Arthur was sitting so close. He wondered how he hadn't noticed before. Arthur's hair was sodden, flattened down and stuck to his forehead, the blond darkened from the constant drizzle. The water gave his skin a sheen, and his eyelashes even had droplets stuck to them like tiny constellations. His eyes, bluer than anything else around them – than anything Merlin had ever seen, in truth – reflected the swaying leaves boarding the clearing. And in the dark pupil, Merlin's dumb-struck face itself.
That is what brought him back to the conversation at hand. That and the eyebrow that lifted in a very Gaius-like manner. "Magic."
"Magic." Arthur sighed. "Of course. What else. Fine, so what about magic do you need to drag me out in the rain for?" Arthur looked around. "Are you really going to commune with nature after all?"
"No, it's—" Merlin braced himself. This was the crux of the matter. "You hate my magic."
The words 'you hate me' were on the tip of Merlin's tongue, but such a statement would have been ridiculous. Arthur didn't hate him. He just… didn't see him as his friend anymore, not truly. Merlin grasped his knee hard, so he wouldn't bring a hand up to where it really hurt; his heart.
Arthur looked into the fire. "Hate is a strong word." It was said softly, soothingly, and some heat cautiously returned to Merlin's chest.
"My magic makes you uncomfortable," Merlin amended.
Arthur chuckled. "What did you expect? You know how I grew up – magic has always been the greatest threat to Camelot. And to my life, really."
"Funny you should say that. Magic has also been the greatest threat to my life."
Arthur cleared his throat. "Yes, well, anyway. You understand why being aware of you possessing forces that have often been used against me—" Merlin opened his mouth to protest and Arthur stopped him with a raised hand. "I know you would not use it against me, Merlin. Despite many instances to the contrary, I know you are not completely daft." Merlin stuck his tongue out, and Arthur responded in kind. And then he said, "Besides, am I not allowed to be uncomfortable knowing you not only have magic, but are the elusive, all-powerful Emrys?"
Suffice it to say Merlin's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. He also promptly stood up, tripped on a dead branch and fell backwards in the dead leaves with a breathless yelp. At least Arthur had the decency not to laugh. Instead he stood up as well and held out a hand to pull Merlin up.
"How?" Merlin managed to croak once he was upright again.
"Gaius."
"Gaius," Merlin repeated, voice audibly full of disbelief.
"When I found out about your magic, I first didn't know what to do, how to put the world back upright, because nothing made sense. You couldn't have magic. That's what I thought." Arthur was still holding onto Merlin's hand, squeezing it, probably not realising he was doing so. Arthur's eyes cast about the clearing. "Not you, because that meant you had lied to me for years. It meant you weren't really my friend. I needed to talk to someone, but who? And then I thought, surely Gaius knows. You live with him, Gaius is an expert on magic, so he had to know. I confronted him one morning when I knew you were away to gather herbs. And it turned out Gaius knew all along and lied to me for years too."
Arthur's pain permeated his every word. He stared off into space, unseeing, as if looking at Merlin right now – the source of this pain – would have been too much.
There was a hole in Merlin's chest, darkness clawing at his ribs. It was a familiar sensation – every time he'd lied to Arthur about his magic it was there, when Arthur kept his distance after confronting him about said magic it was there, and now it was so strong his hand was rubbing his sternum. He couldn't look at Arthur anymore, and he had to blink with purpose to keep the wetness at bay.
Arthur was waiting for a response. A comment. Anything. But what could Merlin say that he hadn't said before? Besides, a second hole had clawed itself open in his heart, this one formed by a new source of betrayal, and he latched onto that instead.
"So Gaius knew for months too that you were aware of my magic?"
"Yes."
The answer was curt, dismissive, and it ignited a flame of anger in the hole of darkness occupying the space meant for Merlin's heart.
"Why did you wait so long to tell me you knew?"
"I— Well, I was too angry at first, and—"
"Did you consider burning me at the stake? Me being a sorcerer and all?"
"Of course not! Merlin, I—"
"Why would you burn other people for sorcery then?"
"It's the law."
"You're the king! You make the law!"
Merlin didn't know when they'd gripped each other's shirts and arms, as if they were wrestling with more than words.
"Look, Merlin, you know I've been told all my life that magic is evil and sorcerers learn it to use it for evil purposes."
Arthur said it in a calm tone, and it did anything but calm Merlin down.
"They don't! Magic is a tool, just like a knife or a sword! It's not just for stabbing and slashing, it's for carving, for cooking, for protecting too. A skill is not evil, it's what you do with it that is!"
Merlin paused his rant to catch his breath, only now realised he'd been yelling. Arthur didn't look fazed at all; it was like he was patiently waiting for Merlin to tire. Well, he would have to wait a while longer because Merlin was not done.
"There aren't only… sorcerers out there. There are, you know, warlocks and mages and witches and enchanters and so many more that I can't fathom how to write that idiotic book about it—"
"Merlin."
"No, you listen to me for once! There is no evil magic, just some people using it for bad things like bandits or blood-thirsty lords would, and magical creatures that just try to survive in this world like any deer or wolf would, and outlawing half of what this world is made of is utterly wrong and ridiculous—"
"Merlin."
"So you need to let the good people out there use magic for good things and put back the balance of nature. The druids would tell you— and the… wizards and the alchemists and the shamans too, by the way—"
"Merlin!" Arthur said fiercely, pressing a hand over Merlin's mouth, which was utterly rude. Merlin intended to step out of his reach and speak some more, though he wasn't sure of what since he was running out of names for magical folk at this point, but the look in Arthur's eyes stopped him.
Arthur took his hand away and Merlin's lips tingled from the sudden lack of heat. "You really take your king for a fool, don't you?"
That managed to shut Merlin up better than any hand over his mouth could. What in Albion was that supposed to mean? Here he was trying to earnestly explain the nature of magic now that he truly could, and what, Arthur was thinking he was mocking him? Or worse, lying to him?
"Wizards? Alchemists? Shamans? How do you come up with these things?"
"What— I— Those exist!" Merlin was pretty sure some people somewhere called themselves that, at least.
"I know it's utter nonsense, Merlin. I've known from the start, you dolt."
Merlin blinked fiercely, but no explanation was forthcoming. "What do you mean?"
"I know that sorcerer or warlock or mage and all the rest are just made up categories that don't mean anything. I know magic users aren't all bad. I mean, I know you, don't I?"
For the longest time not a single breath left Merlin's mouth, let alone his voice. "You are such a prat," he finally managed, breathless. Arthur stated to laugh. "You utter prat! Making a fool of me all this time! And getting me to write a ridiculous book about it too!"
Arthur doubled over with laughter and Merlin took the opportunity to whack him over the head.
"Ow! You're not supposed to hit your king!"
"You are such a prat."
"You said that already," Arthur said, his smile full of mirth.
"Prat!" Merlin said, much too fondly.
"I love you too," Arthur responded in the same tone.
A beat of silence. Two. Arthur's smile died a slow death while his ears took on a distinctively red colour. Suddenly his eyes were on every single tree, bush and tuft of grass, avoiding Merlin entirely.
Arthur cleared his throat.
Turned around.
"Now that we cleared that up, let's go back to the castle. I'm the king, I've got work to do," he said without looking back at Merlin.
He swiftly retrieved his gear, took two steps in the direction of home and stopped. "Hurry up, Merlin, we don't have all day!" he barked in the most prattish way possible.
All the while Merlin hadn't moved a muscle because his mind was stuck on a single thought.
Oh. Oh! Oh? Yes, oh. Aha. Mmh. Indeed. That made sense.
But also, now that he thought about it, oh. So that was what the hole in his chest was about. The hole that now held a flame, a star, a sun, and wouldn't his chest burst open at this rate from the heat it contained?
So Merlin did the only sensible thing he could think of. He took a deep breath, pretended the whole almost-romantic moment didn't happen and quickly doused the fire and grabbed the bags. Arthur was right. That was a whole new conversation. One that was not meant for forests.
Arthur, nice slip of the tongue there! But Merlin, why don't you jump on the opportunity to get all the secrets out now, seriously XD
Next week will be the last chapter, folks!
Spread the Luv!
LL
