A/N: This one was hard to write. It's not long, and it isn't a reveal, but I feel like this one covers a topic some people may relate to and so I wanted to be careful with it. Honestly, I don't like the way it turned out very much. It's too abrupt. But 100 is a lot of stories, so I guess I'll just make it up with the next one (*hint, please leave me prompts, hint*) Happy reading.

Quick Info: Arthur suspects & has already come to terms with Merlin's secret, but Merlin doesn't know that Arthur knows. Arthur is king and Camelot is more or less at peace.

Drabble 16- Pre-Written

That evening when Merlin brought Arthur his dinner, he felt particularly tired. He'd faced off another villain bent on the destruction of Camelot the night before, and gotten no sleep as a result. The actual occupants of said kingdom (minus Gaius, of course) remained none the wiser of the threat they'd avoided. To all, even the king, it was another normal day.

"Dinner," Merlin announced, dropping the tray to the table with a clatter. He probably could've been a little more graceful for once, but he felt pressured to act normal. Like maybe if he acted okay he'd start to feel okay again, too.

"You need fewer nights out at the pub," Arthur muttered, shooting a pointed look at the spilled wine Merlin's hasty delivery had caused. The king was seated at his desk, a stack of important looking documents spread before him. "Time off makes you even clumsier than usual."

"You didn't give me the night off," Merlin retorted. "You never give me time off."

"Right, my bad!" the king shot back sarcastically. "Remind me I need to punish you for skiving off work later." The bite in Arthur's voice was not lost on the weary servant.

Normally Merlin would call the king out on his misdirected stress, but today he just ignored it. He didn't feel indignant at Arthur's remark. It was certainly odd, but Merlin ignored that, too.

"Cat got your tongue, Merlin?" Arthur asked after a moment, looking slightly put off by Merlin's silence.

"Something like that," the warlock replied flatly, cleaning up the wine as he spoke. Arthur's annoyance quickly grew. He decided to try again:

"Gods only know why you're in a foul mood. What on earth could a mindless servant possibly have to get upset about?" The comment was uncalled for, and Arthur knew it. He braced himself for the tongue-lashing he was sure to receive, only to watch in amazement as it never came.

"Are you going to eat or not?" Merlin asked with a sigh, looking to Arthur blankly. For the first time, it struck the king how exhausted Merlin looked. It wasn't I'm still sort of hung over and had a late night out tired, it was bone-weary, I've seen too much exhaustion. Arthur had seen it on the faces of seasoned knights before, but never on the face of a servant, especially one as young as Merlin. His annoyance quickly faded into thinly-veiled worry.

"Yeah, I'm coming," the king replied, getting up and moving over to his table. Sitting down, he gestured for Merlin to do the same. If the servant noticed the sudden change in the king's tone or his unusual request, he didn't comment.

Merlin sat down across from the Pendragon obediently, turning his chair slightly so that he could stare into the fire. Arthur watched him quietly, food forgotten. Then:

"Not that I care, but you seem… off today."

"Doesn't matter," Merlin replied dully. Some part of him knew that he needed to at least try to keep up the "act normal" charade, but he just couldn't seem to remember what normal was. How would he have responded a week ago? It seemed cheerful Merlin had existed years ago.

Arthur wasn't fool enough to drop the matter, but he wasn't sure how to proceed, either. The idea of talking about Merlin's feelings, of all things, made him highly uncomfortable and awkward.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to pry it out of you?" Arthur asked finally, trying to summon his previous annoyance to chase away the discomfort.

"Nothing's wrong," Merlin replied, glancing at Arthur briefly like he couldn't believe the king was even asking.

The king almost dropped it there. Almost- but something about Merlin's attitude still wasn't quite right.

"Sure," Arthur scoffed. "And I'm a sorcerer. What's wrong? And don't say 'nothing', because we both know that's a lie," he added quickly. Merlin paused before replying.

"You wouldn't understand," he said finally, so quietly Arthur was positive Merlin hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"I'd understand a lot more than you think," Arthur said. It was, in part, true. Much of Merlin's life was a mystery to him. But lately, some convenient "coincidences" had started to add up in unlikely ways. With Camelot at peace, he'd had some time to think. And he now thought Merlin may not be all that he seemed.

Merlin shot Arthur a disbelieving look, but the king didn't sway. He'd never consciously decided to support his friend despite the dark secret Arthur suspected he hid, but somewhere along the way the choice had been made nonetheless.

"Be honest, Merlin." He almost added "this once" onto the end, but caught himself just in time.

Something in Merlin seemed to cave and he sagged in his chair.

"Okay," he said. "Okay. I'll try to tell you." Arthur gestured for Merlin to carry on.

"I've been very… busy lately," Merlin started slowly, and Arthur could tell the warlock was choosing his words very carefully. "Nothing feels like it's my choice anymore. It's all because I have to, because I'm expected to."

If Merlin had said this to Arthur a year ago, Arthur would've feared Merlin was about to quit. Now he just wondered if Merlin's secret was more complex than he'd assumed.

"So, you're having a mid-life crisis in your twenties," Arthur tried, and felt immensely encouraged when he was rewarded with a glare.

"No, you prat," Merlin retorted. "I meant my entire life has been written for me. Like nothing I do matters. And then when I do have some freedom to make a choice, I have to make it based on how it affects others." He was talking quickly now, like he was afraid he wouldn't get to finish.

"It's all a trap. Nobody would like me for me," he laughed humorlessly. "I don't even like me. But I have to be what my role needs me to be. I have to be Emr-" he broke off abruptly, and all of his sudden energy seemed to disappear with his words. "I can't make mistakes, ever. And I'm not good at not making mistakes," he said softly.

Arthur took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Before, he would have felt confused by Merlin's confession. Now he was mentally kicking himself for not confronting Merlin the moment he first suspected the truth. He'd wanted to give Merlin the chance to tell him on his own, and now it was too late. But how was he supposed to comfort his friend without giving away what he knew?

"What makes you think I don't understand that?" He asked finally, meeting Merlin's gaze. "I'm the king of Camelot. Every move I make affects the entire kingdom, and when I mess up people often die. I know exactly what you're talking about."

Merlin didn't catch the double meaning to Arthur's last sentence. In fact, he looked surprised by Arthur's response, as if he'd been expecting the king to just brush him off. Guilt weighed heavily down on Arthur at his friend's expression; it was clear now that by giving Merlin his space the king had unintentionally alienated the warlock.

"What do you do?" Merlin asked hesitantly, twisting his hands together nervously. "How do you fill a role you never got to choose?"

"I guess you figure out what your role offers you," Arthur responded carefully. "And what you can offer in return."

"What do you mean?"

"Like how being king may not be perfect, but it gives me a chance to make a difference. And if it lets me protect my kingdom, then the bad stuff is manageable. I guess what I'm saying is that if you weren't capable of dealing with whatever stress is in your life, you wouldn't be facing it in the first place. After all, you had to get to where you are now somehow, right?"

"I guess," Merlin said slowly, looking at Arthur like he'd never seen him before. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you."

Merlin's issue hadn't changed, of course. And he still didn't feel back to normal, not yet. But he had something to think on, and that was the first step.

"Go get me more food, this stuff has gotten cold," Arthur ordered abruptly. He could feel the emotion slowly returning to the room and was uncomfortable enough as it was, thank you very much.

Merlin rolled his eyes and stood, grabbing the king's still-full tray and heading for the door. Encouraged by Merlin's returning attitude, Arthur decided to throw one last comment in:

"Oh, and Merlin?" Merlin paused at the door and looked back at Arthur over his shoulder. "It also helps if you don't try to do these things alone."

For a long moment, Merlin said nothing. Arthur though he saw a brief flicker of suspicion pass behind his eyes, but almost as soon as he saw it, it was gone.

"I'll keep that in mind," the warlock replied.

Then he was gone.