Hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter! It was mostly an explainer/set up for the series, but an important one.
Warning for slight alcoholism!
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Merlin was fine.
Really. He was.
If he was disgustingly relieved to hear that there was yet another curse he had to protect his king from, he couldn't quite admit it to himself.
It wasn't that he longed for danger, for Arthur to be in constant peril and Merlin be the secret savior- he didn't believe it was that.
But as the weeks quieted and dragged despairingly onward without so much as a disgruntled kitchen worker, Merlin could not help feeling flighty. Insects crawled under his skin and his stomach joined into knots; his hands shook like he'd often visited the Rising Sun and his smile wasn't genuine.
He hypothesized that the idea of imminent danger gave him a sort of importance in protecting those he loved. There was never a dull moment, only determination and boundless strength.
And then, when the attack was over, when the quest had been conquered, there was nothing but silence and an eery anticipation for the next big drama. Merlin would start to feel useless, stuck in place, like a rut he'd walked on for so long that it became a six-foot deep grave.
So as he prepared for the journey next morning, he could not help the canvas of relief his feelings painted. He'd fed and watered the horses and packed food, as well as having gathered a few medicinal supplies in case it was needed. Merlin's change of clothes and his bed roll were sitting patiently by his door for the morning.
At this time, the hour was late, and the last preparation Merlin needed to make was that of packing for Arthur. He treaded through the marble hallways and cast glances at passerby's, but maintained focus on the buzz of adrenaline creeping into his system.
When he arrived at the king's door, Merlin rapped his knuckles thrice and waited patiently.
A few moments passed where Merlin heard nothing. A sudden sinking feeling churned in his gut.
"Hello?"
He called louder than the knocking, but no response was made. He gave it a few seconds before saying, "Alright, Arthur, I'm entering."
Merlin turned the knob with hesitation because surely this would be the same as the other nights. He didn't want to witness it any longer. But there, sitting at his decorated table, was Arthur, a pitcher of ale with three fourths of its contents drafted, and a chalice that the king pressed to his parted lips like water in a desert.
"Merlin," drunken Arthur greeted, "come in." His words ended in a slur and the movement of his gestures was sloppy. Arthur set the chalice on the table forcefully and a little ale spilled onto the wood.
"Have you made preparations for tomorrow?" Arthur inquired, managing to keep up an authoritative stance despite the haziness in his eyes. Merlin stood and withheld a sigh, forcing his lips into a polite smile. He shut the door behind him and approached the king.
"Yes, all that's left is to gather your things. That's why I'm here."
Arthur's eyes grew bright like he'd been enlightened to the earth's secrets. "Ah! Of course. Go right ahead."
Merlin shook his head minutely at the increasingly daft Arthur before him and went about folding clothes into a bag.
It had been going on too long, really, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. In the weeks since Gwen had been banished, on certain nights Merlin would find Arthur in a drunken spiel to incinerate any emotions of woe. He'd yet to confront the problem because a couple of times seemed applicable for someone who had just lost their love, but right before a quest to expand the borders? Arthur would be hungover and depleted on the start tomorrow. Merlin didn't want to deal with a less than pleasant Arthur and he couldn't quite believe that Arthur would indulge himself like this before a task of great importance.
Once the pack was filled with all the necessary items, Merlin walked silently to the table and set the bag on the floor. Arthur paid him no attention, readily gulping down the drink.
Merlin pulled a chair next to Arthur and sat slowly. He feared how Arthur would react- Merlin doubted this would be any easier with a drunk version of the king- but nevertheless, he pursued.
"This needs to stop, Arthur," Merlin gently ordered. "Drinking the nights away won't give you the solace you seek."
"What the hell are you on about," Arthur spoke, adjusting himself to face Merlin. He could feel his chest tighten in response.
"The drinking. It's because of Gwen, isn't it?" Merlin inquired sheepishly. His eyes fluttered downward.
Arthur took a cold stare to Merlin, anger rising in color on his cheeks. He gripped the chalice so tight that his hand began to shake.
"Get out. Now." Arthur gritted his teeth. Merlin met his stare and swallowed shyly, but remained determined.
"You know that you can speak to me, right? I love Gwen; she's a dear friend, and I miss her too."
"Why in God's name would I talk to you," Arthur spat, "You're a bumbling idiot, Merlin. Get out of my room before I have you sent to the dungeons for the night."
Merlin felt beyond hurt. Of course he did. But was he not used to this? Arthur, when counseled, forming his despair into wrath at anyone who dared to reach too deep inside his psyche. He knew it too, that Arthur was lashing out because of fear. But he couldn't help the tears in his eyes. To dedicate your life to protecting and helping a man and to be faced constantly with disdain and maltreatment... It had an affect on Merlin.
"Right," Merlin said, rising from the chair. Arthur wouldn't look at him now, and gazed resolutely on the brown drink in his chalice. Merlin grabbed the pack and slung it over his right shoulder, breathing steadily so as to collect himself. He didn't want to show Arthur any weakness in him more than the man already believed he had.
Merlin opened the door and looked out into the hallway, about to proceed. But then, he spoke once more to Arthur, his back towards the king.
"I'll always be here for you Arthur, if you need me. Just remember that."
When the door closed and Merlin trudged back to his chambers, Arthur allowed himself to cry with the mannerisms of a lonely, broken child.
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Let me know what you thought of the chapter! I know its a bit sad; if you like Arthur emotional-whump as well as future Merlin whump then you got a double deal here. I always respond to any reviews, questions, or constructive criticism!