Merlin wastes no time. Without looking at Lancelot, the warlock trusts the knight as he did that first time just beyond Uther's courts. "You must not tell Arthur of this." Taking up Lancelot's dagger again, he parts his robes, tearing his sleeping tunic to reveal bare skin. This would be easier if he could use a strong pain relief spell but he cannot risk magical exhaustion before the Substitution Ritual is complete. The warlock knows that he is down to his last reserves, exhaustion is clawing at him. The forest they are in has been flattened into a wasteland, there are no more elements to draw magic from. Merlin braces himself for the sharp pain and makes a precise incision in his chest while chanting the ancient tongue. We are two as one, only whole when together. I give you my heart. The handle of the dagger is becoming slick with his sweat and blood. Groaning, Merlin sticks his hand into his chest, trying not to feel sick as the pain and blood-loss hits him. He reaches in and carefully extricates his own heart, beating and bloodied and places it painstakingly into Arthur's chest, closing it up with his magic. He is glad that his magic requires few incantations because he can barely force the words out, his vision blurring around the edges. From henceforth, I will live for you and only you. He completes the ritual by sealing both their wounds. The warlock has bound himself to Arthur's life forever but he would not have had it any other way. And just like that Arthur is back to life, Merlin's heart beating beneath his palm. With an accomplished smile on his face, Merlin knows no more.
Lancelot is shocked. He is not sure what has just been done but he knows that it is something unnatural, something miraculous and...intimate. Merlin's body is slumped over Arthur's one. What is he supposed to do now? Are they both...? The knight waits, using his trust in Merlin as a shield, fending off the doubt that whatever thing Merlin has just done may have failed. Merlin cannot fail.
Arthur comes to first with a shock of dark hair tickling his nose.
Lancelot notices that Arthur's eyes are no longer blue. They are gold, like Merlin's when he is doing magic.
The last thing the King can remember is painpainmerlinhelpmepleasekillmepainohgodpain and now the sun is in his eye. The sun? Arthur realises that he is completely naked with a bloody Merlin on top. In the middle of what looks like a war zone. If it weren't for the fact that he is sure that he's died, he would be mortified that he might have had sex with Merlin after a battle while Lancelot stood guard. But Merlin is on top of him, cold and not moving.
"Merlin!" Arthur croaks. "Merlin!"
Strength returning to him, he sits up on a pile of stones. It's not very comfortable. The rough edges of the rock are digging into his skin. Arthur can feel Merlin's pulse, very weak and about to leave. Merlin's front is soaked with blood. Arthur tears at the clothing, searching for the wound. "Lancelot, what happened? What did he do?"
The knight shakes his head and tries to help his King. He rummages through Merlin's pack and finds a blanket, wrapping the King in it. Arthur's hands search in vain but he cannot find a wound. Arthur spies the cut along Merlin's chest and feels for Merlin's heart. It is not beating. Though he was never apprenticed to a physician's tutelage, Arthur knows that this is not a good sign.
"No, no, you can't be death, you idiot, you can't be dead, I love you," Arthur rambles, feeling tears prickle at his eyes.
Arthur's front is covered with blood and he does not care. How is it that Merlin is dead? He looks at Merlin's chest, did he see it? Did it just...? He wants a few more beats. Yes, his lover is breathing. The ever so slight rise and fall of Merlin's chest, undoes the tight knot of tension inside Arthur. He does not think that he has ever been so glad to hear his warlock breathe.
"He's going to be alright," Arthur breathed in relief as the colour slowly returned to his lover's cheeks. Merlin's lips, less blue, his body regaining warm with agonising sluggishness. Arthur kisses him softly, feeling the life stir bit by bit.
Wincing, Arthur pulled back his hand and slapped Merlin on the cheek sharply. "Come on, wake up sleeping beauty, wake up." He slapped him again, a flash of guilt crossing his mind as he sees bright red flare on the pale skin. "Merlin! Wake up!"
His former manservant groaned.
"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed happily.
"Arrrrrfurrrrrrr," Merlin slurred. "You. You... alive," he smiled like an idiot.
"It's not me you should be worried about."
"I saved your life...you prat."
Arthur ignores the familiar insult. "But how?"
"Magic." Merlin breathed feeling the sweet air enter his lungs, each word becoming easier. "You hit me."
"You fainted!"
"Saving you. Why couldn't you have... done the... kiss of life thing?" Merlin groused. His legs felt like jelly.
"Save your breath. Can you get up?"
"I might need some help," Merlin admits. He feels utterly exhausted, boneless. The magic usually swirling in his blood is muted. It feels like it has left him. He wants to try to do magic but his head is pounding and he feels so tired. He wonders what it would be like to live a life without magic. Like everyone else.
Arthur carries him, wrapping the blanket around the both of them. "Lancelot, are you alright?" Arthur asks when he notes Lancelot is leaning heavily on his left leg.
"I'll be fine, Sire."
"Well make sure you get your leg checked out by Gaius when we're back. Round everyone up and give me our inventory."
They had three fatalities and as far as Arthur knew, it was three too many for his life. Mordred had been killed by Urien. Kay and Dagonet had mysteriously vanished. There was no sign of them having ever existed.
Caradoc surprisingly had only been stunned. He appeared to be in good health. Constantine and Gareth had managed to get away so the carriage was still available for use. Arthur is glad now that there is a carriage so he does not have to jostle Merlin on the way back. Lancelot will join them since he has a broken leg. It is decided that Constantine will ride ahead to Camelot on Philippe to procure mounts for Gareth and Caradoc.
With a whistle, Arthur's horse returns, alone.
Merlin barely hears any of these instructions, fatigue catching up with him. With Arthur resting beneath him like a pillow, Merlin drifts off with Arthur's heartbeat as his lullaby.
*
Fire. Burning. Arthur is lost. He cannot save Arthur. Arthur. Dead. Suffering.
"Merlin."
*
"Merlin!" Arthur is shaking him. The warlock opens an eye blearily. "You were...we're there," he says changing the topic. They can deal with this later.
Arthur bundles himself together with Merlin, trapping the warmth between them and preserving his modesty.
"I can walk."
"I'm carrying you." Merlin lets him, too worn out to protest.
Arthur emerges with Merlin in his arms, greeted by several knights bearing stretchers, the acting physician, Morgana and Gwen.
Arthur has a blanket wrapped around him but Morgana can see his bare feet peeking from underneath. He looks relieved but strangely vulnerable without his finery. He is not wearing a crown but yet she knows without a doubt that he is the King. Arthur has always this aura which people described as him being born to be a king. Though Morgana would say that it is arrogance, it is also the confidence of a leader. Morgana feels the weight of guilt and worry ease a little in seeing her brother. She had not been sure that he would return. She has to pinch herself to make sure that this is really real – she's not dreaming. Arthur has returned to them, safetly, all is well. But then she realises the figure he must be carrying must be Merlin. Abandoning all thought, she flies into action. "Arthur. You're al...alright!" You're alive. "Is he?" She gestures at the bundle in his arms. The acting physician, Lavern, takes this as his cue to try and move Merlin to the stretcher.
Gwen runs to Arthur, hands covering her mouth, worry working its way into her face. "Merlin?"
Arthur lets his lover answer. "I'm fine. Just tired." Merlin lifts his head and gives a little wave and summons a lop-sided smile. Arthur wants to hold on to his bundle. He doesn't want to let Merlin go but he knows it's irrational. Struggling against himself, he lowers Merlin on the stretcher manned by the guards and drops to put a kiss on his lover's sweaty forehead.
Arthur meets the physician soberly, the weight of Mordred's death on his mind. "I'm sorry, Lavern."
Lavern thanks him privately using his telepathy, focusing on the task. "How may I help you, Sire?"
"I'm fine. I can walk." Before Morgana can protest, he says, "Lancelot has a broken leg."
"Your eyes, Sire!" Gwen notices as Arthur straightens up fully.
"Arthur?" Morgana looked at Arthur with concern. "Is it really you?"
"Of course it's me." Arthur answers as if it is a ridiculous question although Morgana can hear the defensive edge in his tone. "What about my eyes?"
Gwen looks in askance at Morgana. Morgana puts a gentle hand on his arm, "You don't know?"
Arthur pulls out of her grasp. "Know what? Spit it out, Morgana."
"They're golden." Like Merlin's.
"Oh."
It suits him, oddly. The gold to his eyes only brings out the halo of Arthur's hair and his fair complexion.
Arthur snaps Morgana out of her staring by tilting his head towards Lancelot behind them. The knight hobbles out and Gwen rushes to hug Lancelot awkwardly, pulling his arm over her shoulder to become his human crutch. "Lancelot! I'm glad you're safe. Your horse came back without a rider. We were so worried for you." Gwen's cheeks colour when she reaslises she's spoken before her lady. "I mean well I speak for myself. Not that I'm saying that everyone..."
Merlin chuckles softly. Everyone is glad to be able to laugh, glad that they can share in this moment they thought they would never have.
The unflappable and courageous Lancelot is blushing fiercely as Gwen helps him onto the stretcher.
The King sends a purposeful look at Morgana as they begin to migrate to the physician's rooms."Did you?" he starts, settling into the routine of returning. This is a dance that they are familiar with.
Morgana summaries the last two days dutifully, reporting, "Constantine arrived with Caradoc and Kay just a few hours earlier. I sent them off because I think you'd let them rest instead of waiting for your debrief. I already know about...about what happened. Everything is fine. Camelot will prosper another day. Stay with Merlin. I can take care of everything for another day." She might not approve exactly but she knows Arthur. He's her brother and she cannot bring herself to deny him this. Not after she almost lost him. Begrudgingly, she admits that Merlin did save Arthur so the warlock deserves a little more from her.
For once, Arthur doesn't argue. "Thanks."
"I should have asked this earlier, why aren't you wearing anything? What happened to your crown?" Morgana raises an eyebrow at Arthur. Camelot's king is walking around like a common beggar.
"Long story. Oh and Morgana, you look terrible so you should get some beauty sleep when you can. God knows you need it."
Morgana catches his meaning. Arthur-speak for I am worried about you too so you should get some rest. "Says the man who looks more like a pauper right now." She sweeps away feeling more energised than she has been in a week despite the lack of sleep.
Arthur meets Gwen's eyes and she nods thoughtfully before following in her mistress's wake.
*
Arthur curls up with Merlin, watching his lover sleep. The acting physician had checked up on Merlin citing magical depletion and exhaustion but no other injuries. Arthur's intuition tells him that there is more but Lavern is clearly keeping his silence. As King, he could order Lavern to divulge everything to him but he has learnt that sometimes it is best to let people reveal their secrets in their own time. Merlin would tell him when he is ready. His lover had promised him.
Arthur is no fool. He knows that he died. He could feel himself dying, being ripped apart. He had wanted to die. Wincing at the memory, Arthur looks over at his lover, sure that Merlin has paid a price for his life yet again. It is my destiny to protect you, Merlin had said to him. The words echo around in his head. For a moment, Arthur utterly despises Merlin for doing this to him. Every man dies. It is wrong to be different, it is unnatural. In the same moment, Arthur forgives Merlin, grateful that he is alive. After the Questing Beast incident, Arthur had confronted the warlock: my life is not worth more than yours, you should not have done this. Merlin had yelled at him, not caring that he was the Crown Prince of Camelot. How could I stand by and let you die knowing that I could have done something? What would you have done in my place? Arthur could not admit it then, but he knew he would have done the same. Arthur could not stop being angry, nor could he apologise but he did grab the dark head of hair and pressed his lips firmly against his manservant's.
"I hear you made a break for it with Merlin," Morgana said in a hushed voice, careful not to disturb Merlin's rest. Arthur motions her over to the table so they can talk. His eye remains on his lover, guarding his sleep.
"Morgana," Arthur greets her. "I thought he'd be more comfortable here."
Morgana runs her hands over the dusty tomes of books Merlin discarded on the desk before they left, her expression softening. "You're really ok?"
"Not a scratch on me. I feel great actually. Lavern said I was in fine health. It's Merlin I'm worried about."
"And your eyes? Will they stay that way?"
"Yeah. I think it's a permanent side-effect of Merlin's magic. He must have used it all up. Lavern thinks he might be magically depleted but we don't know if it's going to stay that way. That is, if he has any magic left in him," Arthur says quietly. He fiddles with a quill, getting ink smudges on his fingers.
Morgana takes the quill from him, placing her hands over his. "It's not your fault."
Arthur sighs, running his thumb over the back of her dainty hands. "I know. It's just...I can't help feeling bad about it."
Morgana lets it go, turning to business. "I've commissioned another crown for you. I've notified Dagonet's brother and Kay's parents already."
"Thank you." Arthur hopes that Morgana knows that he's not just thanking her for her work. Arthur goes over to the decanter in the corner. "Some wine?"
"Yes, please."
They raise a goblet to each other in a silent toast.
Morgana drains the wine. "Court is in the middle of talks about raising taxes. I can attend for you again tomorrow if you like?"
Arthur debates whether to stay with Merlin but Merlin is only sleeping. As much as he wants to stay with Merlin, Arthur will not shirk his responsibilities. One of the things his father has taught him is that a King may have many things he might want to do for himself but a great King put his people above himself. "No I'm back and I'm fine. This is my duty. You don't look like you've had much rest since the last time I saw you."
"But..." Morgana's blue eyes flicker over to where the warlock is resting.
"Is merely resting. You should take a day off tomorrow. You've had a hard week."
"Thank you," her shoulders slump a little, now that she is eased of her burdens.
"No, thank you Morgana. I'm glad I have you to help take care of things for me."
"You sure this is really you Arthur?" she teases good-naturedly. "It's good to have you back."
*
Merlin sleeps through the night, mercifully, and through most of the next day. He vaguely remembers Arthur talking to him, holding him but he is not sure if that is a figment of his imagination.
When Merlin wakes up, Lavern is at his side, the back of his palm on his forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"A little better. Still tired and my head hurts a bit. What time is it?" Merlin rubs the gummy feeling from his eyelids.
"Late afternoon." Anticipating his next question, Lavern says, "Arthur will be back soon." Handing over a tiny amber bottle, Lavern added. "Here is a solution for your headache, it should help a bit."
Merlin eyes the solution suspiciously then takes it with a sigh, wishing he could make his headache go away. It has been a long time since he has resorted to using any of his own medicines.
"It's your own recipe," Lavern says with a smile. "When you've recovered enough energy, then you can try using magic."
"I don't think I can do magic anymore. When I try to do anything, I just feel dizzy."
"It could just be your magical core is exhausted. It is still early days yet. You should rest as much as possible to allow your body time to recover," the druid physician says soothingly, ever the guardian.
The physician falls silent, smoothing invisible wrinkles in his robe repeatedly before gathering enough courage to ask. "If I may inqure..."
Though dread the inevitable question, Merlin waves his hand in assent. "Go ahead."
"My...Mordred. How did he...? Was he in pain?"
"Mordred was protecting the King. I tried to save him but Urien had already attacked him. He did not suffer. It was very quick." Merlin says, glossing over the grisly details. Lavern did not need to hear everything. It would do no good. "I wish...I'm sorry for your loss."
Lavern listened with rapture, overwhelmed. "Thank you. He is...was my brother's son. He would have been great."
"Yes, he would have," Merlin agrees mournfully. He closes his eyes and tries to lose himself in sleep so he can pretend he can't hear the sniffling coming from the druid. Merlin wishes he could have done more and if he could, he would have saved Mordred. He feels the druid's sorrow, guilt reminding him that Arthur is alive because of Mordred's sacrifice. The warlock can't bring himself to be sorry for that.
*
It is dinnertime when Merlin gets up again. Arthur is poring over some contracts in the corner of the room. Merlin has grown accustomed to the scratch of the quill followed by the occasional thump of a seal being stamped.
"You should have woken me."
"But it is so fun to watch you drool all over my pillow."
"I don't drool!" Merlin flushed, sitting up. "I was so worried about you."
Arthur peels his cape from him and lies down next to his lover. "I was worried about me too," he says with a mischievous smirk.
"I've missed you."
"Me too." Arthur's expression is serious. He reaches over to cup Merlin's face in his calloused hands.
Merlin chokes a little as he says, "I could have lost you."
"You'd find me again." Arthur is looking at him with so much faith, his newly acquired golden eyes glistening with emotion.
"I thought I'd lose you forever. I was so scared," Merlin says hesitantly, voice unsteady. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Bringing Merlin's forehead to his so he can feel his lover's warmth breath tickling his cheeks, Arthur kisses Merlin softly. "I'm right here." He nips Merlin's lower lip affectionately, then tweaks a large ear.
"Prat," Merlin mutters.
Arthur wants to know how is it that he is alive, what Merlin did, how they came to be right here now but he doesn't want to ruin the moment. This moment that had almost slipped through his fingers. So Arthur holds onto Merlin.
"Make love to me," Merlin whispers, mouthing Arthur's ear.
The future is uncertain. The magic in his blood still feels muted and he doesn't know if he will ever do magic again. He had given up his immortality for Arthur because he knew that he would not want to live it all without Arthur anyway. He doesn't know how long before something else happens and someone tries to take Arthur from him again. Merlin pushes these thoughts away as Arthur splays himself, the warlock's eyes widening to take in his lover's beauty. Arthur never looks away from Merlin's face, impaling himself on his lover. This moment is theirs.
*
The watcher is in Camelot once again. The scene is familiar. The watcher knows exactly what will happen and yet hopes that perhaps this time it will be different. The King's chambers. Need. Betrayal. Fear. Power. Submission. The watcher can hear the sounds of struggling. The curtains around the bed have been drawn closed.
"Merlin, please, you're hurting me. Please. Stop it. Merlin! Let me go now. I order you. Let. Me. Go."
At first Arthur is angry. With the righteous indignation of a wronged king, he threatens, fights with all his might but it makes no difference. Brute force and sheer strength of will cannot overpower magic.
"It doesn't have to be like this." Pleas fall on deaf ears and golden eyes. Broken phrases spill from bloodied lips.
"I love you."
Finally, Arthur is resigned. The watcher sees into his mind and he sees himself. It is not Arthur on the bed. It is not Merlin doing this to him. They are not making love. This is not happening.
"I'm so sorry, Arthur. This is for your own good," Merlin whispers to a motionless body on the bed.
*
Morgana is no longer sure of herself. Did she really see it? Or is it just in her mind? Would Merlin really rape Arthur? He loves Arthur. He saved Arthur. She has to warn Arthur but no, he would not listen to her. He doesn't believe her. Maybe she is wrong. She was wrong last time. Arthur is not dead. He is alive. Doubt seeps in her, refusing to let her go. If she is wrong, then her powers are diminishing...she will become useless. It frightens her even more than the dreams and she is filled with shame at this thought. She should not be so selfish. It is Arthur she should be worrying about, not herself.
"My lady? Did you have a dream?" Gwen's warm hand is on her shoulder. Her voice is clear, not groggy, a testament to her repeated experiences with Morgana's nocturnal disturbances.
Morgana hides her face away from her maid. "It's nothing, Gwen. I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."
The night after, she sends Gwen away the night after to let her rest. She will not become a burden. She will bear this trial on her own. That night she is alone and she sees darkness. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe while the dark suffocated her. Cursing herself for all the times she's wished her ability away, she thinks the Gods must be punishing her now for her ungratefulness. For the first time in her life, Morgana goes to sleep hoping that she'll have a dream, even a bad dream. She could not bear the darkness again.
To be continued: All criticism welcome.