Thank you to everyone who read this and I'm sorry for not posting the final bit for so long. I wrote this at least 5 times over, with it being different each time, trying to find the best balance. I almost thought I overdid the angst, but then I realized, hey I've posted this under angst...so hopefully that's what you're here for, right? Angst and fluff.
Also, for those who are following the fourth season, I'm uploading a short coda I wrote to 4x03, so if you like this then check that out! Thanks again for sticking with me, and thank you so so much for all the reviews and story/author alerts. I feel so warm and fuzzy it's like I have a kitty inside me. ...That's weird, isn't it? Well, enjoy!
Arthur stood with his hand on the door to his room. In his other hand he held a dinner plate with food that had long since grown cold. He didn't feel he could enter his room and shatter the warm laughter he heard behind it, nor would his honor allow him to walk away. He was stuck. He did want to see Merlin, see him smile again. Perhaps that would replace the Merlin in his nightmares whose face was stubbornly lifeless. Just do it, he told himself. His grip on the door handle tightened. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then again, what would Merlin have to say? The dinner plate began to shake in his unsteady hand. Do it, you coward, said the firm voice inside his head.
The door was wrenched open from the inside before Arthur was able to push it. He was yanked into the room, tripping over himself in an effort to keep his balance. His dinner plate dropped with a crash.
"Ah…" said Gwaine, looking startled. Arthur steadied himself. Lancelot, Gwen, and Gaius were seated around Merlin, empty plates in hand, all with an expression of mild surprise on their faces.
"Merlin…" Arthur breathed. Merlin stared at him, wide-eyed before he shook his head minutely and looked out the far window. There was a moment in which everyone seemed entirely uncomfortable.
"Well," Gwaine cleared his throat. He had propped his foot in front of the door, holding it open. "I was going to go see about dessert, but I think this is our cue to get out. 'Night Merlin," he said, more lightheartedly than he looked. Everyone mumbled the same thing. Lancelot squeezed Merlin's shoulder reassuringly. As she passed, Gwen touched Arthur's cheek softly. His stomach flopped with a dull pain. She followed Lancelot into the corridor. Gwaine was the last to leave, shutting the door securely as he did.
Arthur stood, immobile. He was having a similar dilemma to the one he had experienced outside the room. He couldn't leave, and he didn't want to approach a Merlin who was steadfastly ignoring his presence. Yet, as cold as Merlin's demeanor was, it was a relief to see him. Arthur had been there when Merlin had first opened his eyes, shouted himself hoarse for Gaius, but had not seen him since. Part of him hadn't truly believed in Merlin's recovery until now.
"I should've come sooner," Arthur admitted quietly.
"You should've," Merlin agreed with a twang of bitterness in his voice.
"I just…"
"Didn't want to face the consequences of your actions?" Merlin finished. Arthur felt a raw blade slice into his heart.
"I'm sorry." He shifted his weight, something pressing on him as if he were clad in full armor. Had he been a lesser man, he thought he might have fled. When Merlin turned glacial eyes on him, Arthur knew he would have fled. As it was, he matched Merlin's gaze.
"What will you do with me?" asked Merlin after a long while.
"Wha?" Arthur answered stupidly.
"Gallows, guillotine, crossbow firing squad, burned at the stake, or will you be a bit kinder and just poison me?" Merlin clarified far too casually, and it made Arthur's stomach twist and burning fizz rise in his throat. In light of Merlin's life hanging in the balance, it hadn't occurred to him to remember that his friend had been revealed as a sorcerer.
"'Sorry Merlin, but magic's outlawed after all.'" Merlin continued without waiting for him to answer, "Couldn't do me a favor, could you? Visit my grave every once in a while. I've polished your armor for you enough times to deserve that."
"Knock it off!" Arthur couldn't keep his voice from rising and had to swallow hard to keep his dinner from rising; the knife that had stuck him was wedging his heart apart and he thought it might break soon. "You know I'm not going to do any of that!"
"Just banishment then? That's kind of you."
"Why are you being like this?" Temper made itself present in Arthur's voice now. He was beginning to feel indignant as well as sick.
"What? You mean why am I upset, a bit peeved? You bloody ran me through, Arthur! Me! Did you think I'd say that everything was okay, just perfectly peachy, don't worry about a thing? Because that's Merlin, isn't it?" Merlin's voice was rising in a gradual crescendo, "After everything I've done for you, I should be able to take this in stride, right? But mostly, you were completely careless with another person's life and if I weren't me, you wouldn't have cared, wouldn't have—"
"Stop it!" Arthur cried, and he was as out of breath as if Merlin's words had been physical blows. He started to make his way towards the bed, finding his legs shaky. "You're right, you're completely…" Black fuzz was beginning to creep in from the sides of his vision and blood was throbbing in his head and bile in his throat as he knelt on the floor next to the bed, "…but it hurts." His hand clutched at his chest, "It really hurts, Merlin."
He felt a hand in his hair.
"Arthur…" Merlin's voice was shivering. "Arthur?" Lips pressed against the top of his head.
"I wouldn't have been all right if you had died," he choked, "You're the one constant thing in my life, the one person I can trust…I cannot lose you."
"You haven't, you won't," Merlin said, sounding a little startled.
"Are you going to leave?" he asked weakly.
"'Course not. Are you all right?" He nodded. After a moment his head had stopped pounding too badly and he opened his eyes, his heart tingled uneasily when he saw Merlin's horrified expression. Merlin touched a finger to his own eye; Arthur did the same. His face was wet.
"I didn't say those things to hurt you," said Merlin quietly.
"Yes, you did." Arthur wiped his face on his sleeve. "It's okay, I deserve it."
"You don't. Not like this." Merlin said it plain, sincere. Arthur really wanted to believe him.
Silence settled between them again, friendly this time, instead of the suffocating blanket it had been earlier. Merlin's hand was still in his hair, stroking him consolingly. Arthur leaned into it, letting his eyelids droop, feeling calmer now than he had it weeks. He took Merlin's other hand in his, pressing it to his cheek, feeling him there, warm and real and alive…
"Arthur." Merlin's hand had stopped moving through his hair. Arthur blinked up at him. The candlelight was shining in his dark hair just the way the sun had on the hilltop. His cheeks were a little pink, his brow furrowed in a question, and Arthur didn't think about it.
He swept Merlin's lips with his own, barely more than a breeze puffing against skin. It was enough to get a taste though, honeyed and salty. When they joined again, Arthur's tongue stroked his bottom lip before their mouths met. He risked more pressure this time, and his fingers curled around Merlin's wrist.
"Arthur," Merlin said again, "Don't." And he shouldn't, not now, but…
"I know you still trust me," Arthur replied. Merlin brushed a remaining tear from Arthur's eye with his thumb.
"I'll never not trust you." Again, he professed it with such naked honesty that Arthur couldn't help but believe him. For the first time in weeks he felt like everything would be all right. He let out his relief in a staggered sigh and leaned his forehead against Merlin's. With that burst of relief came sudden exhaustion. He had been wound and tied and twisted up in so many ways, and now all of it was relaxing. Before he could excuse himself and swear to return in the morning however, Merlin said,
"Come here," and motioned to the space of unoccupied bed. A dim bell went off inside Arthur's head, telling him not to, that there were still things to be resolved. The kiss, for one. He had kissed Merlin, and he didn't lament doing so.
In the end however, he was far too tired, and after two weeks of sleeping on the floor, far too deep in want of his own bed to refuse. So he climbed gingerly over Merlin and burrowed under the sweet velvet comforter. Merlin blew out the candle, leaving only moonlight streaming into the room. Under the covers, Merlin grasped Arthur's hand, squeezing it tight. He breathed. They had been through so much in a very short time, with Merlin being brought to the brink of death. And now, Arthur thought, they might be perched on the brink of something else.