Warning: This chapter touches on body dysmorphia, eating disorders and depression.
It is of course inevitable that Merlin will eventually tell someone. He's surprised as anyone when his confessor turns out to be Lancelot, but there's a lot to be said for a kind word and a smile, especially when one is struggling with their sense of self and decidedly unrequited love for unattainable princes.
Which is how he ends up spilling the news of one unfortunate late night kiss with aforementioned prince and his inability to think about anything else for the month following.
"He kissed you did he not?" Lancelot is infuriatingly optimistic about the whole affair. He barely seems to notice Merlin's altered appearance, and indeed only acknowledges any difference at all when forced to.
"He only kissed me because I'm a bloody girl! What interest is he going to have when the curse breaks and I'm me again?" Lancelot smiles kindly at this outburst and pats Merlin's shoulder in much the same way as he does the knights when they've had a particularly intense training session. Merlin does his best to suppress his shudder of revulsion.
"Do not think so little of yourself. You're a good friend to Arthur"
"He knows about my magic... He doesn't trust me. I am no friend of his, just a servant" Merlin can hear the tone of defeat in his voice, because this, this is the real reason he cannot believe Arthur truly has feelings for him. How could he love what he has always been taught to hate and fear?
An odd expression passes over Lancelot's face.
"Then show him there is nothing to fear" Merlin recognises the hope beneath his obvious discomfort. If someone should hear such talk, the king would surely have them executed. Lancelot gives him another hearty thump upon the shoulder before he leaves and Merlin watches his figure disappear down the empty corridor. His stomach rumbles and he his mouth tastes bitter. Merlin ignores it.
"All is mended" The dragon says with a toothy grin the moment he arrives in the underground chamber, and Merlin wants to scream that no, no it isn't because he's still a girl and showing no signs of returning to his old body anytime soon. He settles on the fiercest scowl he can manage, which unfortunately only serves to send the dragon into absolute fits of laughter.
"Destiny is not easily rewritten. All is as it should be" Merlin feels a headache coming on and rubs once temple in annoyance.
"Let me get this straight, you called me down here to tell me everything's fine?" His voice takes on an oddly high pitch with the last words.
"Patience young warlock. Your destiny and Arthur's are one and the same, I have told you many times. What you must remember is not to fight it" The dragon's words roll around his head and Merlin wonders just quietly if they mean what he thinks they might mean, and what exactly he should do if so. He has no chance to ask however, as the dragon has already flown away to lurk in some dark corner of the cave.
Arthur has been watching. It isn't so difficult to go unnoticed, not when he knows the castle as well as he does, and Merlin generally sticks to the less inhabited areas which makes the whole exercise easier than anticipated. Arthur is not a simpleton, no matter what Merlin might say, and he has not failed to notice his manservant's increasingly distant behaviour. He knows he must be at least partly to blame, what with that damned kiss, and oh does he wish he could take it back, that Merlin would smile at him again, instead of staring at him like an insect to be squashed. Of course he had wanted to kiss Merlin, and the desire is still very much present, but he senses he crossed some invisible line, and Merlin has retreated in on himself. Everything is broken, and Arthur should be able to fix it. What use is a prince if he can't even do that?
And so, he watches.
Mostly Merlin doesn't give himself away, he works hard and nods and smiles with the other servants, and when he laughs it's warm and lovely. Sometimes he slips.
The facade melts away and Arthur can see how Merlin hurts, when he catches his own reflection, the way his face twists in to something ugly. It takes a while to place the expression, to recognise the emotion lingering beneath the surface. It is on the third day of covert watching that Arthur recognises it. Revulsion. Merlin hates what he is, hates everything about himself and he's a better actor than Arthur has ever given him credit for, to be so utterly disgusted by himself and never show it.
It makes Arthur's chest ache, and he is sickened by himself, the way he has been the cause of this, without ever intending to. He saw Merlin cry didn't he? He had held him in his arms even, and still he hadn't noticed, hadn't seen how Merlin hated himself. He can't remember the last time he's seen food pass Merlin's lips, nor a morning when he didn't have dark circles beneath his eyes, and why hasn't he noticed this sooner?
Arthur is used to disappointing his father, but he is not used to feeling like he has so utterly failed anyone else.
Morgana has lived in Camelot half her life, but she cannot remember a time when Arthur has so honestly sought her advice. He asks her opinion often, but it is usually dismissed, the way one would that of a bratty younger sibling.
Today is different, today Arthur looks pale and haggard, his face drawn and miserable. He is quiet for a very long time.
"I need help" His voice is low and rasping, and Morgana wonders if he's been crying, and what could cause Arthur such distress that he would shed tears.
"Merlin's- I don't know what to do, I don't know how to make him better-" He stops short with a strangled sound that might be a sob, but a very well disguised one if it is. Morgana has never seen Arthur so distressed, not since they were children and he had cried for his mother, and later denied it, and Morgana hadn't teased him because she too missed her mother, and too soon her father as well.
So she does the first thing that springs to mind and she hugs him, and murmurs softly until he is sufficiently calmed again. He doesn't cry, though she suspects it is a close thing, and her heart aches for him.
"What do I do Morgana?" She thinks about Merlin, about the pain he must be feeling and how desperate Arthur is to help him, and the answer is simple.
"You have to remind him who he is, that you still see him. He cares what you think Arthur, he'd never admit it, but your opinion means more to him than anyone's" Arthur scoffs.
"He doesn't care what I think, except when I'm extraordinarily stupid and drunk and molest him" He groans and drops his head into his hands.
"He was afraid to show his magic, he thought you'd hate him" Arthur's head snaps up, his head a perfect 'o' of surprise.
"He told you-?" Morgana blushes and looks guilty.
"I forced him into it, once I knew. I threatened to tell Uther, he never had a choice" She shakes her head, suddenly feeling guilty for the action, for she can't know how much it contributed to Merlin's self loathing, and she can't forgive herself if she caused him such anguish.
"What do I do?" Arthur says hopelessly, and Morgana wonders what it must seem like to Merlin, as if he is being used for his body, that Arthur doesn't love him for what he is but what he appears to be. She can't begin to imagine how awful such thoughts would be, how they would eat away at a person until all was left was bitterness and hurt.
"Do you love him?" She says softly, and Arthur sighs softly and meets her gaze, his eyes bright.
'Yes" He says firmly, and she knows he's telling the truth, however hard it may have been to admit it to himself.
"Then love him".
Merlin stares at the piece of bread contemptuously. His stomach rumbles, traitorous, and he very nearly gives in and eats, but the thought of losing one of the last threads of control stops him. Merlin has never been a self-destructive person, his body rebels against being starved and deprived, and he fights back against it, his mind refusing to give into the needs of his body.
The sun dips below the horizon, and Merlin listens as wind thrashes against the windows. It's been weeks now, the winds, sometimes bringing icy rain to beat against the castle walls, sometimes buffeting the knights sideways as they practice, sometimes blowing softer still, stirring the leaves straw across the courtyard, but never ceasing completely. Merlin misses the sunshine, misses the warmth of summer, misses splashing in the streams around Camelot and trudging home soaked to the bone and shivering, but happy. Merlin misses happiness.
"There's someone here to see you Merlin" Gaius' voice drifts up the stairs and Merlin sighs. Gwen visits most nights, all happiness and glowing and engaged and Merlin smiles and giggles with her and agrees that yes, she is the luckiest girl in all the world, but he's tired of her relentless enthusiasm. He trudges down the stairs and stops dead at the sight of Arthur, looking somewhat sheepish, his cheeks flushed pink.
"Er, hello?" He says quietly, and Merlin can't help but smile a little, because he saw Arthur an hour ago, and teased him about the state of his chambers, and this should really not be as awkward as it plainly is. Arthur seems bolstered by Merlin's reaction and smiles back.
"I have something for you" He says, and Merlin notices the bag he's holding.
"Oh please, not more chores" He groans, and Arthur laughs.
"No, but you'll have to come with me if you want to find out what it is" And he's out the door like a flash, leaving Merlin utterly confused.
"Well go on!" Gaius says, a little impatiently Merlin thinks, but he smiles like he knows a secret Merlin isn't privy to just yet, and he decides following Arthur is better than longer spent torturing himself and chases him out the door.
He catches up with Arthur in his chambers -which are still a mess of course- and wonders just what exactly the prince is up to. Arthur puts down the bag of the table and grins at Merlin.
"You don't have a mirror. Or at least, not the sort we might need" he pulls a piece of linen from the bag and looks at it awkwardly.
"There are some people who are born feeling wrong, like the wrong body. Men who want to be women, and women-"
"Who want to be men" Merlin finishes, wondering where exactly Arthur might be going with this.
"Exactly. There isn't anything to be done for them, not really, but there's things they can do, to feel more, more..." He trails off, unable to find the right word and avoid sounding cruel or pitying.
"Like themselves?" Merlin asks and Arthur nods gratefully.
"Yes, like themselves. I asked Gaius, and he said you might, you might appreciate feeling more like yourself too" A peculiar expression works its way across Arthur's face as he moves forward, hands outstretched, the fresh white linen folded neatly in them.
"Women, they-" He pauses for a moment clearly uncomfortable, and then surges onwards, "They sometimes use strips of linen to bind their chest, so it looks more masculine" Something warm stirs in Merlin's stomach, as Arthur looks stares awkwardly at his handfuls of cloth.
"I had it woven specially" He says, and Merlin feels himself smiling, the warm feeling spreading through his body.
"Thank you" He says softly, not sure exactly where this unexpected act of kindness has come from. He takes the linen, it's cool soft weight sliding against his hands. Arthur turns back to the table, it seems he has more to show.
Merlin gasps in surprise when he turns back with a pair of scissors in hand. Arthur quickly lowers then, his other hand up in a gesture that suggests he means no harm.
"I thought you might like to cut your hair" He says, words flowing out in one long stream. Merlin nods, still unsure of Arthur's intentions.
"I had these made too" Arthur puts down the scissors (thankfully) and pulls more cloth from the bag, clothing, as far as Merlin can tell. Shirts in blue and red, and a pair of dark breeches.
"They're made to look like men's clothing, but they'll fit you better while you're..." He doesn't finish the sentence, but Merlin understands the meaning.
"Why are you doing this?" He asks and Arthur shrugs.
"I don't want you to hate yourself anymore" His voice is very quiet, and sadder than Merlin expected, and he can't help but wonder when Arthur even found the time to notice. "I wanted to see you smile again" Arthur swallows thickly and Merlin sees his eyes shine in the candlelight.
"Thank you" he says again and holds up the linen. "Um, how do I get this on exactly?" Arthur brightens immediately.
"I asked Gaius, and he showed me how" He steps forward and then stops. "Do you want me to show you? Only, you'll have to get undressed..." He suddenly looks as uncomfortable and Merlin remedies the situation by unlacing his bodice. He removes the dress too, for good measure, and stands, shivering slightly, in his under things.
"You need to put your arms up" Arthur says, and Merlin does so immediately. He finds he doesn't mind Arthur touching him quite so much as other people, a curious thought he decided to consider more later.
Arthur is gentle as he winds the linen around Merlin's chest. It's a single long swathe of material, tight enough to flatten his chest but not so restricting that he cannot breathe comfortably. There are pins that Arthur struggles to push through the layers of linen and Merlin eventually takes them and does so himself, securing the binding in place. He allows himself a wistful look at the clothing laid on the table and Arthur follows his gaze and grins.
"You can try them on" He says, and ushers Merlin behind the screen usually reserved for his own use. The breeches are soft and fit loosely around his legs, the shirt a rich blue and the correct width for his smaller shoulders, far softer than his old scratchy shirts. He's annoyed at his under things hanging down to his knees over the breeches and Arthur lets out a snort and then picks up the scissors.
"We can fix that" he cuts roughly around Merlin's waist, the excess material falling away and Merlin hurriedly tucking the ragged edge under his shirt.
"You might have to sew it up a little better" Arthur says, but he's looking at Merlin with a smile and holds up the scissors again.
"Your hair?" Merlin looks at the thick bunches against his shoulders. he hates it, hates looking after it, hates the heat and weight of it, hates the way it has to be brushed and combed and tied back every morning.
"Yeah" He grins and scoops his hair into a handful, revelling in the sensation as it falls away in his hand. He's slightly worried when Arthur continues to cut, and he can feel the scissors against his scalp, but the less hair the better, and as long as he doesn't look like he's been shorn, he doesn't mind.
Finally, the last dark curl falls away and Arthur puts the scissors down.
"Gwen can probably make it look a bit better" He says, and then looks nervous again.
"Do you want to see?" He says, and Merlin is surprised that he offers his hand. More surprising is that Merlin takes it without a second thought. Arthur's mirror is long and thin, and Merlin has grown used to Arthur admiring himself in it.
Now, looking at himself reflected in the glass, his hand still held in Arthur's, warm calluses rubbing against his palm, he feels like he's greeting an old friend. It isn't perfect of course, he still looks slightly too feminine to get away with it entirely, but it's close enough that he looks like himself for the first time in a very long time indeed.
For the first few minutes all he can do is stare. Arthur has done him a great kindness, all out of an apparent desire to see him smile, and it seems that wish has been granted for all Merlin can do is smile.
"Thank you" He says, over and over, until the words sound nonsensical to his ears, and Arthur looks at him and smiles too, warm and bright, and his hand squeezes Merlin's tightly.
"Will you be happy?" He says quietly. "Will you be happy now?" Merlin tears his gaze from his own reflection, looks at Arthur proper and sees the worry creased in his brow. Merlin realises what he's been missing all along, that Arthur can- and does- love him despite what he may look like, or his magic, or how much he currently loathe himself. A small weight feels lifted, though Merlin knows he will never be truly comfortable with this body, that he will always fight that voice in his head that tells him he's wrong, until the day he has his true body back, and perhaps even beyond that.
'Yes" He says, and before Arthur can reply, stands on his tip toes to kiss him softly. Arthur looks dazed as he pulls back, his eyes unfocussed and lips parted as he slowly exhales.
"You don't have a way to make me taller do you?" Merlin says, not letting Arthur's mind linger too long. The prince blinks and laughs.
"Don't get greedy" He says, and Merlin laughs too, and for the first time in a month he feels really, truly happy.
Eep, hope that wasn't too heavy for you all. Poor Merlin is in a dark place, but he'll lighten up in the next few chapters, I promise.
Thanks all of you who are still reading, I hope to update a little faster next time :)