Chapter Three
The One Where Arthur Makes a Silent Promise to Merlin
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard as Uther strode purposely towards his son. With his golden hair gleaming in the fading light, Arthur looked up from his swordplay to meet his father's piercing gaze.
"Arthur," Uther began, his voice resounding through the training grounds. "I've been informed of the progress of your studies, and I have to say, I am quite pleased. You've been making great strides."
"Thank you, Father," Arthur bowed his head, his eyes gleaming with pride. "But I can't take all of the credit."
"You've gotten help?" Uther raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "From whom?" He looked over at Leon, who slightly shook his head.
"Merlin," Arthur said excitedly, sheathing his sword. "He makes reading and writing less of a chore, and he's brilliant! He's three years younger than me but has already been reading for two years! He's really very clever. Even Gaius says so!"
"Well, if Gaius is saying such things," Uther says playfully, causing his son to laugh. "He seems quite talented."
"He's like no one I've ever met," Arthur continued earnestly, his enthusiasm undimmed. "He's so much fun to be around." He scrunched up his nose, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Although he would make a terrible knight, he's got the strength of a sparrow, and he's so tiny." Arthur held his hand to his chest, "He barely comes up to here."
"Where does this Merlin come from?" Uther asked, although he already had an idea of who the boy was. It was the very same one he had given the dragon to in the market, Hunith's son.
Arthur hummed, eyes raising to the sky. "He's always been around but was never allowed out much when he was younger. He said he was very sickly for a while. He stays with Gaius and his mother in the physician's quarters."
They fell silent, and Arthur was fidgeting in his spot. After watching his son for a few moments, Uther gave a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes, "What is it you want, Arthur?"
"I was hoping, perhaps, that Merlin could join me for a sleepover sometime," Arthur admitted after a moment. "We could study!" He added as an afterthought, although Uther was under the distinct impression that nothing of the sort would be occurring.
"Very well," Uther conceded, holding up a hand before Arthur could get too excited. "Merlin's mother about the possibility of a sleepover between you two. But remember, Arthur, friendships must not distract you from your duties."
Of course, Father," Arthur said, beaming. "Thank you!"
Arthur watched as his father turned to return to the castle before he looked up at the Physician's chambers. He caught sight of Merlin looking at him through the window and grinned, waving at him. His smile widened as Merlin quickly waved back before disappearing. Arthur couldn't wait for their sleepover.
~o0o~
The sun had almost set as Uther purposely stooped into Gaius' chambers without knocking, the door banging against the wall with a startling crash. Gauis and Hunith, who had been bent over their work bottling fever potions, jumped at the sudden intrusion.
Merlin sat at the table closest to the door, where he had been carefully inscribing the names of potions into small vials with a quill. His eyes flicked up from his task, and upon seeing the king, a large smile spread across his face.
"Good evening, your Majesty!" Merlin chirped as he stood from the table. He had hastily wiped the ink from his fingers onto his trousers before moving to greet the king properly.
Uther's stern expression softened as he regarded the young boy. With an almost parental gesture, he patted Merlin on the head, causing a few stray locks of hair to fall into his eyes. "I've heard you've been helping my son with his studies," he said warmly. "Arthur speaks highly of your assistance."
"Thank you, Sire," Merlin replied, his grin growing wider. "I'm just happy to be able to help."
"Perhaps there is a future for you as a scribe," Uther mused, eyeing the neat rows of labelled vials. Merlin's eyes lit up at the prospect, but Uther turned away from him before he could respond, his demeanour shifting back to its usual sternness.
"I heard you had a son," Uther said dryly, directing his attention to Hunith. She snorted and smoothed down her apron, throwing him an unamused look. "Is that true?"
She raised an eyebrow at him, "I was under the impression you were aware, given my birthday wishes."
At his stare, she sighed, "Yes, Merlin is my son. I fell pregnant with him ten years ago."
"Where is his father?" Uther asked, his gaze shifting to Gaius and back to her. "And why have you not informed me of this child's existence."
"Afraid he's yours?"
Uther scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous."
"Merlin's father is not in the picture. I wasn't aware that you were to be informed of every birth in Camelot, Sire. I apologise. I will make sure to let you know next time."
Uther looked as if he wanted to throw something. "I do not need to be informed of every birth, but considering our close friendship, I thought that it would have been something you would have cared to tell me."
"I've seen what you do to your close friends, Uther," Hunith said darkly.
"Those were extenuating circumstances— don't scoff at me!" Uther growled.
Hunith threw up her hands, "Fine. You want to know so badly why you weren't told?"
"It would be appreciated," Uther said through gritted teeth.
"The circumstances surrounding Merlin's conception were sensitive; I didn't feel comfortable divulging what happened." She glared at the floor, her eyes flickering to Gaius's before casting downward again.
"Is he Balinor's child?" Uther asked, his tone harsh.
"You think me foolish enough to harbour Balinor's child in the castle right under your nose?" Hunith crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow.
Uther knew better than to fall into that trap. He'd done so many times as a child, but eventually, he had learned better after the last time he insinuated such left him with a scar. He studied her face carefully, looking for any trace of deception, but found none and was satisfied that there was nothing else she was hiding. Merlin was a product of rape. He was not the child of Balinor. He could handle that. It made sense why Hunith would not wish to divulge that information, even though Uther truly hoped she had trusted him enough.
He turned to leave the room. As he reached the door, he paused and looked back at them. "I would have protected you, Hunith. I still would if you'd come to me."
"Goodbye, Uther," Hunith said firmly before turning away from him and returning to bottling fever potions.
"Watch over your mother, Merlin," he said, his voice heavy as he looked down at the wide-eyed boy. "And you are free to sleep over in Arthur's room any time you wish."
"Thank you, Sire." Merlin nodded quickly before returning to labelling the vials before him, feeling uncomfortable under his heavy gaze.
The door closed behind him, and Hunith wondered, not for the first time, if she had made a grave mistake keeping Merlin in Camelot.
~o0o~
Three years had passed since that fateful conversation in Gaius's chambers, and much had changed within the walls of Camelot. Merlin, now twelve years old, found himself sitting at a large oak desk in the castle's library, surrounded by the same ancient tomes and scrolls he had spent his days around with Arthur, but he wasn't there this time. It was an offer from King Uther for Merlin to train as a scribe alongside Geoffrey and the head scribe, who would be retiring in a year.
"Excellent work, Merlin," Geoffrey commented, peering over Merlin's shoulder. "Your penmanship has greatly improved. Just make sure to watch your lines."
"Thank you, Sir," Merlin murmured, his cheeks flushing. He had taken to his new role like a fish to water. He was eager to learn and read all the texts he had gotten into trouble reading when he was younger. Yet, despite his genuine interest and the praise he received for his diligent work, his mentors could not help but notice his occasional lack of focus.
After the fourth time Merlin left a drop of ink on the page, the head scribe sighed heavily, "Where is your head today, boy?" He demanded, dragging Merlin's eyes away from the window.
"Apologies, sir," Merlin muttered, quickly returning his attention to the crumbling book before him. His ears, however, remained attuned to the distant sound of steel clashing against steel, drifting in through the open window. He winced upon hearing Arthur's shocked cry, and a quick peek through the window allowed him to see that Leon had won that round, with Arthur sitting in a muddy puddle.
"Ah, I see. Arthur is training outside today," the head scribe noted with a knowing smile, nodding towards the window. "You two used to be quite inseparable, didn't you?"
"Yes, we were," Merlin murmured, a wistful look in his eyes as he glanced down at the training field. The sight of Arthur, now fifteen and deep into his knight training, stirred a longing within Merlin's heart. He missed their carefree days spent together, running through the corridors and getting into all sorts of mischief.
"Perhaps if you finish early, you can visit him during his break," the head scribe urged, chuckling as he watched Merlin pick up the pace, his fingers flying across the parchment as he carefully copied the ancient text.
Meanwhile, Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow as he paused momentarily to catch his breath. His swordsmanship earned him high praise from his instructors, but it was hard work to maintain that level of skill. Glancing up, he noticed Merlin at the window in the library and felt an ache of frustration. They had grown apart over the last six months, their new duties consuming more and more of their time.
"Prince Arthur!"
"Hopefully, I'll have some time later to see him," Arthur thought, taking a final slip from his water flask.
~o0o~
Arthur's footsteps echoed against the stone walls of the castle. The tapestries lining the walls bore witness to the lone prince as he strode through the halls, lost in thought. He was so lost in thought, in fact, that he walked right into Merlin as he turned the corner.
Merlin sputtered and moved to grab Arthur's shoulders, the papers in his hands fluttering to the floor. Arthur grabbed his waist to keep him from falling. "Morning, Merlin." He said with amusement.
"Morning, Arthur," Merlin greeted him with a cheerfulness that failed to reach his eyes. He ducked down to pick up the papers scattered at their feet, Arthur beside him, helping him put them in order.
"On your way to…"
"I have to help Gaius with some deliveries, and then I'm off to pick some herbs in the forest," Merlin replied, tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind his ear— a nervous tick Arthur had come to recognise. "And you?"
"Archery. Then swordplay," Arthur said dully as he handed the papers to Merlin. They stood for a moment, suspended in silence as thick as the castle walls, each acutely aware of the chasm that was being wedged between them.
"Right then," Merlin said, breaking eye contact first. "Best not keep anyone waiting."
"Indeed... Goodbye, Merlin."
"Goodbye, Arthur."
Arthur watched him go with a pang of longing in his chest. They were like two ships passing in the narrow straight of the castle, signals crossed and sails billowing with unsaid words.
~o0o~
Arthur sits at the dinner table with his father, but his hand trembles against his cheek as he struggles to hold back tears. It would not do well to show weakness in front of Uther.
Uther, ever the stoic ruler, takes a sip of wine before addressing his son. "What troubles you, Arthur?" he asked, his voice laced with impatience. "I've heard reports of your success in training."
Arthur can't keep up the facade any longer. "I miss Merlin," he admits bitterly, his voice cracking with emotion. "Our duties leave no room for our friendship."
Uther fell silent, a haunted look crossing his features.
"Father?"
After another long moment, he forced himself to speak. "Arthur, you must learn to let go of childish things," he said sternly. "Your bond with the boy was acceptable in its time, but now you must focus on your duties as prince and future ruler."
"Is there no room for friendship in the crown?" Arthur pressed, desperation creeping into his tone. Tears now flowed freely down his cheeks.
Unbeknownst to both men, Merlin stood just outside the chamber doors, his heart heavily beating in his chest as he listened to their conversation, his heart racing in his chest, listening to every word with a heavy heart and clenched fists.
"This is the last I want to hear about it, Arthur," Uther snapped, cutting off any further protest from Arthur.
"Understood."
~o0o~
The blazing sun beat down upon the training grounds, scorching the earth and casting harsh shadows across the grass. The metallic clangs of swords and grunts of battling knights echoed through the air as Arthur landed a powerful strike, sending his opponent's weapon flying. He straightened up, sweat dripping down his face and muscles screaming in exhaustion.
But he barely registered any of it when he saw Merlin approaching with an armful of dusty tomes and a messenger bag overflowing with herbs and parchments. Their eyes met, and in that moment, the chaos of the training grounds faded away. The space between them was charged with everything they had wanted to say to each other the past few months.
"Merlin," he breathed.
Merlin paused at the edge of the training grounds. "Arthur," he replied, his voice soft.
"Take a break, will you?" Arthur said, his tone casual but his eyes pleading. "Join me for a meal? My chambers, half a candle mark?"
Merlin hesitated, the corners of his mouth twitching as he wrestled with the idea of shirking his duties. Then, he agreed with a nod that sent his dark locks tumbling across his forehead as a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Half a candle mark," Merlin said with a grin, unable to deny Arthur anything.
~o0o~
In the dimly lit private quarters, Arthur and Merlin were finally able to shed their roles as prince and scribe and simply be two friends enjoying a meagre feast. The table was set with a modest feast of bread, cheese, apples and water.
"Remember that time we encountered the troll in the forest?" Arthur asked, his grin taking on a mischievous edge.
Merlin chuckled, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he brushed it aside. "Which one? The one you kissed or the one we stumbled upon dancing naked in the moonlight?" He teased, winking at Arthur.
A blush spread across Arthur's face, both from embarrassment and the memory of their wild antics. "I did no such thing!" he protested with mock indignation.
They laughed, the sound filling the chamber with it. For a brief time, they were not a prince and a scribe. They were just Arthur and Merlin, two friends.
"Those were simpler times," Merlin mused, biting into an apple.
"But also some of the most thrilling moments of my life," Arthur added with a soft smile. "But I wouldn't have survived half of it without you."
"Nor I without you," Merlin said sincerely.
In that moment, as they shared memories and expressed gratitude toward one another, they were more than just friends. They were two halves of a whole, bound together by trust and love amidst the chaos and uncertainty of castle life.
The fire roared and crackled, casting ominous shadows on the two young boys sprawled on the rough fur rug. Merlin's heart thumped with excitement as he regaled Arthur with tales from his books. Each word seemed to ignite a blazing passion in him, causing Arthur to hang onto his every word. Arthur shared harrowing stories in return, ones of battles and danger from his journeys with the knights into the dark forest.
Between the warmth of the fire, the fullness of his belly, and Arthur's calm tone, Merlin felt himself starting to doze.
"Merlin."
Blinking away the drowsiness, Merlin turned to face his friend, sensing that something important was about to be said. "Hm?"
"I want you to know—no matter what my father says—" Arthur paused, his expression conveying more than words ever could.
Merlin's heart clenched at the unspoken promise hanging between them. He whispered back, "Me too."
With those words hanging heavy in the air, both boys closed their eyes, seeking solace and comfort in each other's presence, unaware of the daunting challenges that would shake their loyalty and friendship to its core.