(A/N)

ahhh i forgot to put this up last night! i'll be putting up the last part tonight since it's shorter. hope you like this :)

Once, Merlin even said it himself. He still hadn't understood it, of course. He was just angry, and unsure, yet very sure at the same time, and so, so frustrated, and he spat it out in the midst of their argument without even comprehending it.

Life in the kingdom of Camelot had been tense recently. Merlin knew that this dreary ambience which seemed to be from out of nowhere was really only a sudden heightening of all the events of the past years. People were dying, Morgana was growing more powerful, Mordred was back, and Arthur was learning more about what it meant to be king every day. Merlin just wasn't sure whether he was learning the right lessons every time.

Could Merlin even properly judge which lessons were right, though? There had to be a reason that Arthur was the one who was king and that he had such a great prophecy laid out ahead of him. Merlin would never rule over anyone, even as the most powerful warlock to ever live. Still, he was supposed to lend a guiding hand to Arthur to get him into the position to rule as greatly as he was supposed to. But how much direction was Merlin supposed to give? Should Arthur not have his own power over his destiny and rule? Should his own ideas and decisions not play into the greatness of the prophecy? Arthur was the one meant to be king, the one prophesied into greatness. Some of it must come from him, not Merlin.

Arthur was already dealing with a lot. The growing threat of Morgana's forces and Merlin's apparently cold treatment of Mordred had already riled him up, but the recent encounter with Uther's ghost had left him rattled. Yes, he had asserted his choices in ruling over his father's, but there had been moments where he had questioned himself. Merlin disliked how disasters such as these could shake Arthur, even if it was only for a moment, so easily. His upbringing seemed inseverable at the few threads that were holding on.

One of those threads was attached to the gigantic elephant in the room: magic. Merlin felt that his mountain of a task had only risen higher as the years went by. Obviously he had had some hopeful moments, but, in these darkened days, his destiny overwhelmed him completely. It was hard to feel hopeful for the supposedly great future when everyone in Camelot lacked hope for daily life now.

There were other problems, yes. One stuck out extremely obviously to Merlin: Mordred. He didn't understand how Arthur could trust him so easily. Of course, it must be a good sign that Arthur would trust a Druid. Maybe not for his own life as king, as Merlin knew how that could end, but for Arthur's future reign. Mordred served as a baby step, although Merlin fiercely wished that he could be that stepping stone himself.

Merlin couldn't tell Arthur. After all these years, after all they had faced together, after everything, he couldn't tell him. Merlin tore himself apart about it day after day, wishing this prophecy would just fulfill itself. Why would something meant to happen take so much work?

Arthur had changed over the years, but Merlin struggled with knowing whether or not it was enough. To be the great king he was supposed to, Arthur would need to learn to listen not only to his peers but to other people, to let them help him. Agravaine had served to both further and complicate this goal. Obviously Arthur had learned to put less stock in someone's word simply because they were royal, but he also had learned to put less stock in someone else's word and more in his own. He had turned inward rather than expanding his outward focus and trust.

Could Merlin fix this? Was this a legend and prophecy or a fantastical illusion of the future?

He believed in Arthur, but, on the worst days, Merlin found himself doubting what could turn out so stupendously great about the king's rule.

One such day had started out normally. Merlin went to wake up Arthur, said his daily mantra of "Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!", got pummeled with a pillow for it, and upped his dodging skill later when Arthur threw a goblet at him. The goblet would have to be cleaned, but at least that responsibility would fall on the kitchen staff, so Merlin counted his lack of a headache as a win.

Well, he did for five extra minutes at least, because Arthur liked to take every opportunity he could to possibly injure his personal manservant. Most of the time, it was inexplicable amusement, but Merlin had noticed in the past few years that it had turned to a way for Arthur to take out his emotions. He did miss a lot though, which Merlin appreciated, because he knew that the king didn't lack good aim.

Merlin acted the same as always, though, making jokes as he helped Arthur dress and delivered his breakfast. Sometimes teasing Arthur about the things he didn't do himself helped him forget about what he did have to do himself. Sometimes he got stuck in a rut where nothing could help. Today, he wasn't there yet, but he was close.

They made their way out the door within the next few minutes as Arthur could linger however long he wished as king but chose to be more punctual than Uther ever had. Merlin could check that off of his list of getting Arthur to become a great king since Arthur hadn't always arriven to his duties on time as prince. Merlin chose to ignore how his own service had sometimes played a role in that lateness.

They walked silently but peacefully, Arthur bumping his shoulder against Merlin's every now and then. Merlin would jostle him back a few times before stopping so that he didn't break his arm. Still, they walked side by side now, Merlin rarely trailed behind his king anymore. He did take a small step back when they reached the council room.

Since Arthur had become king, they had found themselves less involved in training and excursions, and more in paperwork and council and knights' meetings. Merlin didn't completely mind, particularly since it saved his limbs from possible bruises and mutilation, but he more often than not found himself missing the excitement and exploration. These meetings bred both boredom and simmering bitterness. Merlin was meant to guide Arthur in the right direction, but he could never tell him exactly how to rule, and sometimes his friendly advice fell on deaf ears.

Today's first meeting had been with the knights. These happened frequently, particularly with all the battle strategies they had needed to devise recently. Fortunately, today's meeting focused mainly on bolstering defenses in outlying villages and transporting supplies safely, so Merlin could simply stand and think for a bit, at least when Arthur wasn't yanking him forward to get his attention.

All had been well, or as well as it could have been given the current state of the kingdom, until one of the knights inevitably brought up Morgana.

This time was different, Sir Hadwyn had explained, as she had before occupied the territories in the northern plains, but now she had moved closer to the Mountains of Andor, northeast of Camelot. Merlin's ears perked up a bit at that development. Her movement was only in the general direction toward Ealdor, he knew that it probably meant nothing, at least not anything significant relating to him, but his mind would dwell on the possibility of a threat nonetheless.

Arthur, though, had not seemed to dwell on it, or any kind of reason why Morgana had moved the way she had. Of course he took anything involving Morgana seriously, he assured all of them of that fact and they believed it, but he seemed to take everything involving Morgana with the same severity every time when Merlin knew the gears in her plan were picking up speed. He felt like Arthur had only been looking at the battles while Merlin knew the possible outcome of the war.

His knowledge of Arthur's prophesied rule always placed the heaviest weight on Merlin's shoulders. He only wished that Arthur would be able to share in that burden with him, especially since Merlin increasingly felt as though he had no idea what to do.

In this situation, though, Merlin did at least have an idea as to what to do. He only needed to convince Arthur of the very serious threat Morgana posed.

When the meeting ended, the knights remained seated as Merlin gathered Arthur's things. He let Arthur sit for a moment as he picked up papers from the knights and then gently shook Arthur's shoulder. The knights stood up as Arthur made his exit, Merlin walking behind, and only afterwards did the knights leave the room.

Now the two of them were walking to Arthur's chambers since now came the time for the aforementioned king paperwork. These consisted of a variety of things such as letters to important people and tax documents and the like, but the most pressing at the moment were the knights' assignments. Merlin didn't step up beside Arthur on this walk. They both needed the space.

They reached Arthur's chambers and Merlin took care to close the door, lighting a candle outside it. The rest of the servants knew that this candle meant Arthur wasn't to be disturbed. Merlin didn't want to see what would happen if he was right now.

As Arthur began his paper-signing, Merlin headed for the freshly delivered load of laundry which had been placed just inside the door. While Arthur more often than not interrupted Merlin's work to ask his opinion on various matters, he never liked when Merlin simply stood there waiting. Perhaps it felt too much like he had a servant waiting around all day. Merlin didn't care too much to find out, because at least if he started working he could avoid Arthur's jokes about his laziness and get ahead on his work for the day.

As Merlin folded the clothes into drawers and hung others up in the wardrobe, he noticed Arthur flipping between papers constantly but keeping his silence. Strange, Merlin thought, worriedly glancing at the king. Arthur normally consulted him when he was upset about something like this. Merlin knew that this had to be about Morgana.

"Everything alright, sire?" Merlin paused for a moment, not sure if Arthur had been listening. After a beat, the king raised his head dazedly, and Merlin continued. "Is something troubling you?"

"No, Merlin, I'm fine." Arthur narrowed his eyes while he made his terse statement. He jerked his head upwards and then focused back on his papers. "Get back to work."

Merlin stared at the king for a moment, taking in his tousled hair, the slight red pigmentation in his cheeks. Merlin bit his tongue back despite his concern and turned back to the laundry. He took extra care in the folding now, partly so nothing would anger Arthur, and partly so he could stay in this spot a bit longer surveying Arthur.

Arthur sat at his desk for many more minutes without Merlin's interruption. He seemed to stay stuck on the same stack of papers, the ones Merlin knew pertained to the knights' assignments. In his right hand, Arthur held his quill, which currently served less to sign his name and more to drip ink over everything. Something was definitely wrong.

"Arthur?" Merlin called out softly. Arthur jumped in his seat and dropped the quill. Merlin could see the ink blotting the papers from where he was standing. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Merlin, I told you that I was fine!" Arthur grimaced in annoyance, crossing his arms and tilting his chair slightly away from Merlin. "Keep doing your job, I can handle mine on my own."

"You shouldn't have to," Merlin said, his eyes trained on Arthur's for a moment before trailing to the floor in deference to the anger that he saw. He had hoped to quietly get Arthur to open up, not anger him into a defensive strengthening of his internal walls.

"Excuse me, Merlin, but I have been training to be king my whole life." Arthur stood up suddenly and slammed his palm into the top of his desk. Merlin could have sworn he heard the wood give a creak. "The closest you've gotten to the demands of being royalty is serving me."

"And does that mean that I know nothing? That my life and experience has no bearing on what happens in Camelot?" Merlin responded, slowly looking up at the king. Arthur seemed to pause before taking in a deep breath.

"I know how to rule the kingdom, and I don't need help from the common people." Arthur gradually made his way around his desk, shaking the papers on top with each step. "It's my responsibility to help them, not the other way around."

"Don't you understand?" Merlin raised his voice. He clutched the shirts he had been folding close to his chest. "It has to go both ways! You can't do this alone!"

"When I ask for your opinion, you can give it, Merlin." Arthur walked up to Merlin and forced his right hand away from the clothing, gripping it tightly. He locked his gaze onto Merlin's eyes as he squeezed the servant's fingers. "Do you doubt my ability to keep this kingdom safe?"

"Of course not, Arthur, you're a great king," Merlin replied as he bowed his head. He stood there, motionless, for a moment, letting Arthur breathe. When Merlin straightened his neck again, however, his eyes held just as much determination and fire as Arthur's. "You will be praised for many years to come, you will have a great rule. I know you will. Have you not heard what they call you?" And Merlin said it.

"What does that have to do with any of this?" Arthur's tone still held defensiveness, but his posture had calmed slightly, and he seemed more focused on Merlin's words. Perhaps he focused specifically on those words, deeply affected by the connotation they carried even if neither the king nor the servant really understood them yet.

"You have a great destiny ahead of you," Merlin answered. "But you have to earn your great title somehow. You have faced so many challenges, and more will pass, Morgana included. The only way you will get through them is by listening to the people and working with them, not by shouldering every responsibility yourself and not getting others' input. The things you accomplish will be remembered and praised, but the way you deal with your challenges and rule your people will be lauded even more greatly."

The two stood there silently, Arthur still gripping Merlin's hand. Merlin could feel his heart beating and he knew that Arthur's was too. He could only hope that they were beating together and not against each other. When Arthur let go of Merlin's hand, his question was answered.

"Merlin...I apologize." Arthur leaned back against the table and rested his hand on Merlin's shoulder, holding it there for a bit. "You know how highly I think of you and that I believe in the people of Camelot and all the lands. I shouldn't have forgotten it."

"It's alright, Arthur," Merlin responded, flashing a small smile at his old friend. "You have a lot being thrown at you these days. It's not your fault you got overwhelmed, but you do have to remind yourself to fix it. You're the only one who has the power to make decisions to change everything right now, to make things better for the world to come. You have to remember that you don't have to do it alone, you have to let others weigh in and help."

Merlin saw the first bit of genuine happiness he had seen all day from Arthur. He wished it could have come from the kingdom running perfectly, but he was glad he could still evoke it from Arthur himself.

Merlin was glad to serve his king.

The king seemed glad to be served, for one, but also to serve his people.

"You're right, Merlin," Arthur said before striding back over to the knights' assignments. He held up a map. "So, what are your thoughts on our defenses near Morgana's position?"

(A/N)

thanks for reading! i'd love to hear any reviews or anyone's favorite parts, i really loved writing this fic!