The sound of his coughing echoed loud and long throughout the room, the pain in his lungs seizing his chest and forcing the man to double over, a hand pressed tightly over the offending area. The unpleasant motion had been an ongoing occurrence for the last several days and the last of the symptoms from his illness to fade. And while the fever and the chills and the brief bout of nausea had been far from fun, a piece of the prince wished that any of those would return in favor of easing the constant ache and rattle that the fits left him with.
Sitting up from his stooped position on the bed, tired blue hues shifted to the doorway, half expecting one of the servants to come rushing in with yet another goblet of water or question of wellbeing. When none did, Arthur could feel one side of his mouth quirk upwards into a triumphant smile. Perhaps they had finally received the message that he'd thought he'd made loud and clear; he didn't want or need them constantly around him.
He was the Crown Prince of Camelot for God's sake, not a child in constant need of company or care. Not to mention that every last one of them that his father had sent was more incompetent and annoying than the last, though a piece of him held a spot of twisted pride at the fear that had crossed the last one's face at his roaring command of being left alone.
Falling backwards against his bed and pressing his head against the blanket that was spitefully mussed, Arthur let his feet drag against the cool floor while he stared up at his bed's canopy. He hadn't expected Merlin to still be gone. No, that wasn't true. A piece of him had, but a piece of him had also hoped that it wasn't as bad as it had seemed.
After all, how did the idiot expect him to get by with the ridiculous staff that his father had employed? At least Merlin knew where his things were stored, and though he often appeared late he tended to be around when Arthur really needed him, and he wasn't one to shy away whenever he yelled.
Closing his eyes and drawing in a slow breath in an effort to stave off the next round of coughing he could feel building, he pictured the boy in his mind, still lying about in Gaius' chambers. After his father had pulled him away that night, Arthur had nearly collapsed, his adrenaline long since faded and his body giving in to the cold and the exhaustion of the day's events.
He'd been confined to his bed and his chambers like a child with a series of quiet, obedient servants tending to him around the clock. Struck with a high fever during the night, he'd barely been conscious when Gaius had stepped foot in his room, no doubt at the command of the king, and approached him with a level of weariness he'd only ever seen during a heavy outbreak.
"He's fine." The man had assured him before the question could even be spoken, though the look on his face told a story that was far more complicated than those two words that he'd conveyed. A story that, despite the several visits during the worst part of the prince's illness, was left unspoken, any concern or inquiry shushed with the usual 'he's alright' that left Arthur more frustrated and worried than before.
Sitting up as the next bout of coughing ensued, Arthur's toes curled against his floor and tears sprang to his eyes as he sucked in a sharp breath, a daggered pain dancing behind his eyes. At least his father hadn't spoken much about his actions, although the expression of displeasure was never far when he asked after his son's health.
A fact that Arthur was still surprised about, waiting anxiously for the moment to come when his father would burst into a long winded lecture about risking his life needlessly and defying his direct orders upon his return.
Twisting around on the bed and eyeing the fire that still burned bright in an effort to keep his chambers warm, Arthur listened once more for the sound of a knock or respectful questioning that would signal someone's approach. Just another thing Arthur had yet to grow re-accustomed to. Had Merlin been around there would be no knocking or quiet mutterings, only quick footsteps and heavy breaths and a teasing voice that would ask if he was alright or was he to fetch Gaius in case he was dying from such a mild affliction.
Reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose, Arthur pushed himself off the bed and swayed a moment, a hand stretching towards his nightstand until he was steady before he was padding over to his dresser to rummage through the drawers.
He'd done his job of playing obedient prince for the last three days, listening to his father and remaining dutifully in his chambers. But now he was practically well and he hadn't seen Gaius since the evening before and he felt it was necessary to seek out the man and have him clear him once and for all.
Finally finding a pair of socks in the next to last drawer, the prince sat in one of the chairs and quickly tugged them on before snatching his boots and shoving his feet inside. He was certain Gaius would be in his chambers so late in the evening and seeing as he was the physician and Arthur had been ill, he didn't see a single issue with paying the man a visit despite the hour. And if he happened to find Merlin there and awake, well then he would have no choice but to ask his idiotic servant how he was doing and when he'd be returning to work, he wasn't rude after all.
So with the decision made and his next cough rolling out shorter and quieter than his last, Arthur pulled open his door and stepped out into the hall, not at all pausing to check the emptiness of the corridor first or taking the time to avoid any guards during their patrol. And in no way was the prince tired after his trek to find the boy-the physician, the labored breaths and rattling of his lungs nothing more than his own imagination.
Climbing the stairs slowly and pausing near the door, Arthur found that it was cracked a fraction, just enough to allow a sliver of firelight to fall out and color the tips of his boots. Lifting a hand and carefully pushing open the door, the prince poked his head inside, spotting the elder near the patient's cot with a book in hand and glasses on his face.
He had half a mind to turn away, to go back to his room and wait until morning for fear of disturbing what little peace the man so rarely got, but the creak of the door betrayed him and the book was lowering at the same time as tired eyes were lifting. Unable to deny his presence, the prince stepped inside at Gaius' beckoning and forced his gaze to remain firm on the white haired man.
With movements that screamed of weariness and age old aches, Gaius stood and approached the young man, concern pulling at his mouth as he looked the prince over. "Sire, are you alright?" And his voice was impossibly soft, the room far too quiet for containing the servant that was known to chatter on regardless of the situation, and damn him because his focus had shifted without realizing, blue hues settling on the silent mound taking up the cot that was reserved for those under Gaius' watchful care.
"Arthur?" The physician spoke again, because the prince had yet to speak, had yet to move any further into the room, and suddenly the blond was coughing, a desperate hand flying to his face in an effort to muffle the noise as he bent over, pain catching in his chest and decorating his vision with a serious of small sparkling lights.
When the fit ended and the breath had returned to his lungs, Arthur took note of the comforting hand on his arm and the worried expression studying him. Standing up straight and clearing his throat, the prince moved away from the elder and his ward and closer to the fire, creating a distance from the resting boy so as to not further risk waking him.
"I'm fine." He spoke as soon as the other was near, and at the doubtful expression that made it clear the words were not believed, Arthur swallowed and tried again. "I came to request a draught to ease the cough." And that sounded far better, steadier and stronger and how the prince was meant to sound.
"I believe I have one made up." Gaius nodded slowly, eyeing the young man a moment longer before turning to look through his cabinets.
Sitting down on one of the stools near the fire to wait, Arthur's stare returned to his servant and attempted to make out the finer features of the boy in the faint light. It was easy to see how pale he was and how it contrasted against the small dusting of red along his cheeks that indicated a fever, but the rest of his body was hidden beneath a heavy blanket, one that was drawn all the way up past his shoulders.
The stain on the floor had been scrubbed away, no trace of the blood that had once coated the boards beneath the sleeping boy, and Arthur couldn't help but wonder how bad the injury had ended up being. "How is he doing?" He asked, forcing the question out as casually as he could as the movement behind him paused momentarily.
"He's doing far better than he was." The elder finally spoke, and at his words Arthur cursed himself because he'd known all along the physician had been holding back and he should've been by before to check on the foolish boy. "He's had a stubbornly high fever." The man continued, moving to a different cabinet behind the prince as a few vials clattered together during his search.
"And while I've managed to get him to eat here and there, he's spent most of his time asleep." Returning to the prince's side, Gaius placed an orange tinted vial on the table and clasped his hands together, the weariness more prominent as shadows moved like spirits across his face. "I wasn't sure he was going to make it at first." He admitted, and his voice was so low Arthur barely caught the next words that left him. "I'm not sure what I'd have done if.." And he doesn't need to continue because Arthur already knew and really he wasn't sure what he would've done either.
"Gaius?" Turning his head towards the physician he was met with a wizened gaze and the question that had been lingering in his mind suddenly seemed foolish beneath his sharp eyes.
"Sire?"
"Is it possible for.." Pausing he caught he breath and forced himself on. "It is possible for one to see the future through their dreams?" His inquiry was met with a lingering silence, Gaius' face a mask of neutrality that made the prince feel ridiculous for even considering such a thing before the man's voice finally appeared.
"For someone who has magic there is the possibility of such a gift, though it is difficult to control. Why is it that you ask?" He spoke carefully, eyes narrowing a fraction as Arthur looked away.
It wasn't against the law to discuss magic in the theoretical sense, but it verged so close to other things he knew exactly how his father would react if he found out his son dared even mention it. He should have known better than to even bring it up, but Gaius was knowledgeable about such things, and perhaps he was just looking for a reason.
"Morgana came to us before the hunt begging for Merlin not to go. She wouldn't say why but she was nearly in tears telling him to stay within the citadel. A few hours later we were hunting, and then, well, that happened." He made a gesture towards his servant before dropping his head with a soft sigh. "She has such odd dreams I'd thought.. but it sounds foolish now hearing it out loud." He muttered, dragging his hands over his face and wondering if he was not as well as he'd thought he was.
"Morgana's dreams are just that, Arthur."
"I know, but.." Meeting the elder's eye, he barely shook his head. "Merlin told me that he had a bad feeling. I don't know if Morgana's rambling spooked him or he was just cold, but I.." He felt responsible.
"No one could have predicted a wild animal attacking him." Gaius spoke sternly, his hand falling to the prince's shoulder. "Not Merlin, not Morgana, and certainly not you. What matters is that he's here, and he's going to be fine. He will recover in time."
Looking up at the man, Arthur's next breath ended in a cough, short and shallow as he dropped his head again. "I know. But perhaps I should have listened." He mumbled, not even sure if the man could hear him with his voice so low, but the hand fell from his shoulder and the elder was stepping away as Arthur's gaze returned to his servant.
He wasn't sure how long he sat at a distance, watching and willing the boy to move in some way before he heard a quiet muttering behind him. Searching for the physician, he spotted the man grabbing hold of his satchel and turning apologetic eyes to the prince.
"I've just remembered a salve I was meant to deliver earlier but haven't had the time to do so. May I ask you to stay with Merlin until I return?" The question was a surprise to the blond, but Arthur's head nodded anyway as Gaius started for the door. "I should return before too long, and then you'll be able to return to your chambers." He stated, a firm stare sent his way that made it clear his words were more than a bit of advice.
With another nod, the physician left quietly and Arthur was standing, making his way to the same chair that Gaius had vacated not long before and settled in near his servant. Up close it was easier to see him, as well as the way he breathed long and slow with sleep, interrupted only by the occasional hitch.
Leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his knees, Arthur's head sunk against his hands and he let his eyes fall to the boy's shoulder hidden beneath the thick blanket. He was tempted to lift it, to see how much of his arm had required a covering and whether the blood had made it look worse than it was.
And a piece of him nearly did, a hand beginning to reach out, but a sudden cough stabbed through his chest and forced his arm to retract, curling instead towards his body as his eyes squeezed tight, working too late to smother the too loud noise as his throat burned in protest. As the fit ended the prince sucked in small, wheezing breath past dry and cracked lips before a hoarse whisper drifted up towards him.
"Gaius said you were sick, but you sound awful." The voice was startling, Arthur's head jerking up to find two tired eyes staring back at him with an expression of worry creasing his brow. "You look awful too." Merlin remarked, his voice scratched and weak but holding the usual teasing tone to it all the same.
"You're one to talk," He countered without hesitation. "At least I'm not still lying about in bed."
"I'm sure if Gaius had his way you would be." He spoke sluggishly, the slightest slur to his words as he blinked slowly. And all Arthur could do was smirk, because of course the idiot was right, but he was also awake and sassing him and a piece of him hated the amount of relief that flooded through him at such a simple thing.
"Probably." He uttered, feeling the pull in his chest as he turned his head away, a rough cough dislodging the pressure the first cough had brought up as the cot in front of him shifted and the prince was moving before he could think.
With a hand pressing down firmly on Merlin's chest and forcing him back, surprised blue hues stared up at the man half hovering over him. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" He demanded, putting as much of a stern tone to the words as he could, though admittedly his voice was tight and dry and he was fairly certain it sounded more choked than anything.
"I was going to fetch water." Merlin defended softly, no longer fighting his weight as the prince pulled his hand away and sat back in his chair.
"You're worse off than I am, you'd pitch over the moment you stood up and I don't want to have to pick your useless self off the floor." He scolded, swallowing away the ache in his throat as he leaned back and folded his arms while Merlin shifted his stare to the room behind him.
"Where's Gaius?" He asked, the side of his head pressing into his pillow as he sought out his guardian.
"He went to make a delivery."
"At this hour?" Merlin croaked, eyes widening in surprise.
And Arthur was about to answer, to say of course why else would he leave when it suddenly struck him as to why Gaius would have put off something he could've done while Gwen was visiting earlier. A flush of embarrassment rushed over the prince, his words refusing to come out as he stared at the boy who was waiting for his answer. Was he that easy to read? He'd known Gaius his entire life, but they'd never been overly close, not since he was a child, so how had he known he'd wanted an excuse to stay if it wasn't written all over his face?
"He's been busy taking care of your lazy self, hasn't had the time for hardly anything else." He answered flippantly, waving a hand at the servant as if he hadn't taken a solid ten seconds to come up with an answer. It seemed to be enough for the boy though, Merlin settling back as the blanket shifted and a section of his bandages came into view. "How's your arm?" Arthur asked, eyeing the boy as Merlin's gaze drifted away.
"Gaius thinks I'll have quite the scar when its healed."
"Only you would manage to have that happen."
"I didn't ask for the wolf to attack me." He stated, a small pout forming on his face as he stared up at the blond. "I don't actually ask for any of the things that happen to me to happen."
"You're just unbearably clumsy, we all know." Arthur smirked, enjoying the frown that tugged the other's lips down.
"You'd think I'd have better luck after being forced to put up with someone like you." He muttered back, looking away at the man's scoff.
"I'm a delight to be around, Merlin."
"Of course you are, Sire." He retorted, still not looking at him as Arthur rolled his eyes and turned away, spotting a pile of fabric on a table near the boy's bedroom door.
"I see the knights returned your cloak and gloves."
A small sound of confirmation left the boy in response. "I'll need to thank them when I can get around again."
"You nearly scared Gwen half to death you know." Leaning forwards, Arthur's hands came together in front of him. "And Morgana."
"They've been to see me, both of them. Gwen was crying." The boy noted quietly, his eyes lifting to the ceiling.
"Well they thought you were going to die." The price stated abruptly, hesitating as the boy tensed. "Course you didn't, which means you haven't lucked out of your chores." He added, attempting to bring another smile to the servant's face as tired eyes met his.
"Still not having any good luck then." He mumbled with a blank expression that brought a laugh out of the prince, his head dropping as the sound turned into another hacking cough. When he'd finished he found the boy watching him with a pained expression before a hand fell against his chair.
"You didn't take that draught I left out, did you?" Looking over his shoulder to find Gaius standing over him, the elder beckoned him to rise and follow, once more moving to the fire as he extended the vial that had been left on the table out to him. "This will help with the cough and to help you to sleep." He promised, pressing it into the blond's hand as Arthur accepted it gratefully.
"You ought to return to your chambers before the king finds out you've been here; you know he won't take well to you not remaining in bed." Looking back to his servant, Arthur found he wasn't surprised to see his eyes shut again, his head turned towards the two as if he'd been listening to them when he'd drifted back off. "He'll be alright, his fever ought to break soon." The physician assured, ushering him towards the door.
"Thank you." Arthur voiced before he was fully out of the room, catching the man's eye before he swallowed. "For the potion." He added, because that's what he'd come for after all, and the elder just smiled back at him as if he were in on a secret and bowed his head.
"You're welcome, Sire." And then the door was closing and Arthur was making his way back to his chambers feeling lighter than he had before. He'd gotten what he'd needed, and the next few days that promised to be endlessly busy no longer seemed so unbearable.
Perhaps if the boy healed quickly he'd even be a part of the oncoming celebration instead of holed up in his chambers. Not that Arthur cared of course, only for the fact that he'd be bored senseless without someone that he could mess with.
He was beginning to regret his decision. No, that wasn't entirely true. A piece of him had regretted it the moment he'd left the warmth of his home and ventured out into the hall. Merlin's fingers curled around the edges of his cloak as he pulled it tighter around himself, an ache racing through his arm as he forced himself up the last few steps.
He shouldn't have pushed himself so hard or dared to come so far, though neither had seem so daunting when the thought first came to mind. Gaius was sure to complain and he could already see the man's eyebrows frowning at him in that disapproving manner he seemed to reserve solely for him, but as he walked through the empty corridor filled only with his own labored breaths and approached the balcony covered in a thin layer of snow, he felt as if the trip hadn't been entirely in vain.
Bracing himself against one of the pillars and looking out at the forest decorated in the white powder, Merlin drew in a deep breath of the cold night's air. Gaius had suggested he go out, stretch his legs and walk around somewhere more than the small room he'd been stuck in for days, and Merlin had readily agreed. At least, he had until he'd actually left the physician's chambers.
Each and every hall and corridor were practically bursting with people; servants and staff carrying or fetching or cleaning. Merlin had been overwhelmed, barely dodging one frantic man as he raced towards what the warlock suspected to be the prince's chambers. There were also visitors in the citadel and a feast was currently underway, though for what the boy wasn't entirely sure.
He'd tried seeking Arthur out, to ask how he was and what was going on, but when he'd finally made it there he'd found his room empty and he hadn't wanted to pursue the search any further. Whatever event was taking place no doubt had the prince in attendance, and in Merlin's desperation to get away from the mass of people filling every available space he'd found himself here. Just as it had been before the tower was void of any other living soul, left empty and hollow with its barren walls and closed off room.
Shutting his eyes and drawing in another breath, the boy's trembling began to fade, leaving only an annoying reminder of the weakness left over from his sickness. Once his fever had broken and he'd been able to keep food down again, Gaius had finally stopped hovering over him, though he'd still kept a close watch over his ward. At the very least he'd been permitted to move back into his room, the small bit of privacy a luxury that he'd gratefully taken.
Merlin had seen Arthur once more since his first visit, glad to have seen the prince again in good health. He'd only stayed a few minutes though, asking Gaius about some things that the warlock hadn't been able to fully hear due to his own struggle with his coughing fits getting out of hand. But that had all been a couple of days ago, and the warlock found himself wondering how the prince had been fairing without him around.
Not that Arthur was completely incapable without him, but he was curious as to how he'd affected the rest of the servants stuck dealing with him in his time off. He could only imagine how much more of a pain the prince could be recovering from an illness.
Reaching a hand out and brushing away a portion of the snow, Merlin's finger began to draw lines in the remaining powder, creating a small design that left the tip of his finger a bright red while the cold bit into his skin.
"What are you doing here?" The next line was jerked harshly through the others, the picture he'd been creating ruined as the warlock's head snapped up and found Arthur standing in surprise at the top of the stairwell.
"What are you?" He repeated the question back, too surprised himself to do much else as the blond's eyes narrowed at him and his lips pressed tightly together. "You're hiding from the feast, aren't you?" Merlin asked suddenly, beginning to smile at the flash of irritation that struck the prince before his expression was hidden beneath a mask and he was striding forward.
"Of course not." Arthur snapped, his fists curled by his sides as he stopped beside the other pillar and folded his arms, falling back against the stone while Merlin stared. "Alright, maybe." He finally relented, scowling towards his servant. "But I'm not hiding I'm merely taking a walk."
"Of course, Sire." He nodded, not bothering to try and hide his smirk as Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Are you hiding from Gaius?"
"He wanted me to get some air." He shook his head, dragging his fingers through the remainder of his design, making the dragon as indistinguishable as its wings. "This was the only quiet place I could find."
"I didn't even know this tower was unused." The prince commented, turning his gaze to the room across from them. "What's in there?"
"I don't know, I've only been up here once before." Merlin shrugged one shoulder, the other still carefully pressed to his side.
"You've never looked?" Arthur practically gaped, narrowing his eyes in disbelief.
"Why would I have any reason to?"
"You're so nosey I would have though you couldn't resist."
"I'm not nosey." The boy scoffed, his mouth open in offense as the prince pushed away from the stone and caught his eye.
"Yes Merlin, you are." He stated before making his way towards the room.
Trailing behind the man with a quiet grumble, he peered around the blond as he pushed open the door and stepped inside, dust rising from the floor wherever they stepped. The room was similar in size to Gaius' chambers with a stairwell that led to a second-floor landing covered in empty shelves and a room at the back that Merlin suspected to be just like his own.
A vast array of crates and chests covered a majority of the space, stacked precariously throughout the room while a large window overlooking the forest allowed moonlight to filter in and light the space. Without a word they each took a different side as they began to inspect the old objects, thick layers of dust billowing about with every breath that left them.
"It looks like my chambers after you've taken a day off." Arthur remarked, unlatching a chest and waving a hand to rid the dust from his face.
"Your chambers have never looked this bad, at least not since I've started." Merlin retorted, prying open a leather bag and grimacing at the fabric on the inside that came off between his fingers.
"This place hasn't been touched in years." The prince murmured, moving to another stack of luggage and pulling over a crate. "Even the storage rooms are cleaned from time to time, this place shouldn't be so filthy." He complained, pulling out a few items and holding them up to see them better. "Why do these look familiar?" He questioned, holding one up higher for Merlin to see as the warlock leaned over his stack.
A tall, cylindrical glass coated thick with dust was held aloft in the prince's hand and Merlin frowned in thought. "It looks similar to what Gaius uses when brewing his herbs."
"That's what it is, all of this looks like equipment he would use."
"Could this be an old physician's chambers?" Merlin mused, walking over and reaching into the same crate and pulling out a small metal box covered in intricate designs.
"I doubt it, Gaius has been in his tower as long as I can remember, and he doesn't seem the type to just leave some of his things behind."
"He's definitely not." The boy muttered, forcing the countless arguments about the man's tendency to collect and hold onto things from his mind as they continued looking around. "Actually, you know what this looks more like?" Holding up another metal container and a vial with a dark stain coating the bottle, he met the prince's eye.
"This all looks like the equipment that one sorcerer had, the one who tried to take Gaius' job." Frowning, Arthur took the box from the boy and opened it, tipping it upside down as a few small coins tumbled out into his open palm. "Edwin, that was his name!" Merlin snapped his fingers, drawing away from where the man knelt and looking over the items again.
"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin, why would anything used for creating magic be in this tower?"
Spotting a familiar looking piece of wood propped inside another crate near the window, Merlin shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe it was taken from a group of visitors, or it was left over after a raid?" Pulling the wood free and turning it over, the warlock's breath caught in his throat as his eyes went wide.
Carved into the wood were bold letters written in a simple script, similar to the one leading to the chambers that had been his home for some time, only the words looking back at him were far different. Lowering the plaque and dragging his fingers over the dusty letters, a lump he could not swallow down rose in his throat.
Court Sorcerer.
Had Camelot really had one of those? He knew the ban on magic had been around for years, almost as long as Arthur if he wasn't mistaken, but before that had happened had Uther actually entertained such a position? He could hardly believe it, though the proof was weighing rather heavily in his hand.
"Are you listening to me?" Arthur's voice interrupted his thoughts as Merlin's head jerked up.
"What?"
"I asked what you found." Wordlessly Merlin turned the plaque over, gripping the edges tightly and curling his fingers over it as he held it up for the prince to read. "You're blocking part of it, Merlin. All I can see is you holding a sign that says 'sorcerer' on it." Rising from his crouch and reaching out, he took the plaque from the warlock's hand and glanced it over, the prince's own expression changing, morphing into one of confusion. "We used to have a Court Sorcerer?"
"This must have been their tower." Merlin mumbled, not daring to speak any louder for fear the man would notice how tight his voice had become.
"Why did my father never tell me?" Arthur asked, though the boy got the sense it wasn't a question he was meant to answer. "He must have closed this place off after he instituted the ban, though why he wouldn't just get rid of all of this is beyond me." He muttered, dropping the plaque onto a chest and staring at it.
"If he had a sorcerer appointed in his court.." Merlin began carefully, keeping his eyes on the prince's face. "Then he must have once thought that magic wasn't all evil, right?" Because it wasn't, and he was so desperate for Arthur to see that, to understand that. His destiny was linked with Arthur's, they were meant to return magic to the realm one day, and all of that would be so much easier if he didn't have to hide who he was and what he could do.
"Not a chance." Arthur scoffed, the sharp denial cutting through the warlock like a blade as he looked away, cursing himself for allowing that small shred of hope to surface. "Why do you think the ban was put there in the first place? He knew the dangers of magic, knew what it could do. Who knows how old all of this is? He may never have known this was up here."
But there was a pause, as if he wanted to say more but wasn't sure how, and Merlin could see a fight raging through him, a fight that reignited that cursed spark that couldn't help but wonder when he'd be able to tell him the truth without fear of what may happen.
"But the proof is all here, that plaque alone is-"
"Magic is what took away my mother, Merlin." His words immediately stopped the warlock's, the boy's mouth shutting tight as Arthur glared at the plaque. "My father refuses to talk about, he won't even tell me what exactly happened to cause her death, but I know that magic is the reason." Pushing the crate aside and shoving the sign inside, darkened hues sought out his servant's face. "So how can magic be good when all it does is leave death and misery in its wake?" Before the boy could answer Arthur was turning away, walking towards the door. "The answer is that it can't, and it never will be."
Dropping his gaze to the crates and chests that were still unopened around him, Merlin turned and followed after his friend, closing the door tightly behind him and pausing at the sight of the blond leaning against the balcony, his hands propping him as he stared out over the trees. The warlock knew better than to say anything, instead walking closer and folding his arms across the ledge and leaning forwards, a small spark of pain shooting through his shoulder as the two stood side by side in the silence of the evening.
He knew Arthur would need time to come around to the idea of magic being used for good, to understand that it was the person who used it and not the act in itself that was evil, but his hopes had risen in that room and had left him feeling deflated at the prince's fierce refusal to see that. Tilting his head towards the sky and releasing a soft breath that left a brief cloud floating through the air, a sudden cheer erupted in the distance followed by two more that had the warlock turning his head.
"Was that from the courtyard?" He questioned, stirring the prince from his thoughts as the man sighed.
"Probably. I've no doubt the tavern has already kicked out several people, though I'm sure that will do little to disturb their celebrations."
"Celebrations?" Merlin repeated, turning a curious eye towards the prince. "Is there more than just a feast going on tonight?"
Arthur's head swiveled towards him in shock, stunned silence washing over him as the blond tried to find words. "Do you not know what today is, Merlin?" He finally settled for asking, leaving the warlock to draw in on himself as heat flooded his face.
"A holiday, obviously." He scoffed, though he could not place which it might be as the man faced him directly. He prepared himself for the joke that was sure to be made at his expense or a comment about how idiotic he was, but instead the man leaned back against the pillar once more and barely nodded his head.
"I forgot you've been out of it for a while. Everyone is celebrating the oncoming new year." And suddenly the boy was reeling, because not only had he somehow lost days, but Arthur had just had the perfect opportunity to insult him, yet he hadn't. Opening and closing his mouth in the hope that something coherent would come out, he barely managed a quiet 'what' that had Arthur nodding. "It's the night of."
"I-I didn't realize." The boy breathed, sagging against the balcony as the weight of what the prince said struck him.
"You were in and out of consciousness for over a week, Merlin, honestly I'd have been surprised if you had remembered."
"I know, I just.." Gripping the ledge tightly, the boy grit his teeth against the ache drilling through his arm as he stared at the snow that still clung to the stone. "I'd meant to return home before it was here."
"To Ealdor?" Arthur asked, shifting beside him as Merlin's head bobbed in response.
"I'd wanted to spend a couple of days there. This will be the first year I won't celebrate with my mother. I won't even get to see her." He mumbled, unsure whether the man could even hear him as a high pitched shriek followed by more laughter echoed up the stairwell from a group walking past.
"I suppose your celebrations were far less extravagant." The prince remarked as a faint smile pulled at Merlin's lips.
Looking out at the expanse of trees drowning in the snow and the moonlight, he could almost picture his mother sitting at home waiting for him, watching the sky like he was. When would she realize he wasn't coming back? Had she already?
"In a way it was the same, just on a much smaller scale." He spoke, feeling the blond watching him, waiting to see if he would continue. "Each household would gather together, moving from home to home if the weather permitted or splitting apart into just two or three if it didn't. There would be stories and games and music and dancing, and if it was a good year there was even ale."
It was always loud and jovial, everyone working their hardest to spend one night forgetting about the cold and the dark and the struggles their farms faced. In those few hours, waiting for the new year to come, they were the happiest he'd ever seen them.
"Of course I preferred the time after all the festivities were ended." Merlin continued, glancing briefly at the prince and forcing back his surprise at the man's full attention to his story. "After all was said and done my mother and I would return to our home and we'd sit at the fire with the bread that she'd made fresh that morning. We'd talk of the things that happened during the year, the things we learned and the things we ought to have learned, and we'd share stories of our own that we felt were important."
Even as a child his mother would sit with a smile, listening to him go on about the way he'd used his magic to save a bird or how he'd beaten Will in a race around the fields. She never cared that they were just silly ramblings or that she'd heard them before, she'd give him her full attention and ask questions or encourage him to share even more. Merlin smiled at the memory, pressing a single finger into the snow.
"Then when we were finished she would pull out a piece of parchment and tear it in half, and then we'd each write a wish on it before tossing it into the fire." Looking to the sky now, he could hear his mother's words recited each year playing through his mind. "She would say that as the paper burned and the smoke drifted towards the heavens that it was a deal we were making with those that watched over us. If we continued to do our best, to learn and grow and make the most of the oncoming year, then they would help to grant us our wish."
"And you believed that?" It was the first time Arthur had spoken, and as Merlin turned to look at him, he found amused yet intrigued eyes watching him.
"When I was a child, yeah. But then after the first few wishes didn't come true I caught on. We still did it every year though, same as always. It was my mother's favorite tradition, and mine too I guess." He shrugged, turning around and leaning his back against the ledge as Arthur stared past him in silence before his head was tilting a fraction to one side.
"Traditions." He murmured, his brow furrowing in thought. "My father has one, if you can really even call it that. More of a belief, really. He always told me that if you ended the year with those you want to be present in your new one, you should be together when it changes. That's why there's so much going on." He gestured, waving a hand in annoyance towards the stairwell.
"He always invites his old friends to stay a few days and take part in a celebration. It's normally a bore, but it's one of the few times that my father allows himself to relax. Of course they do so by drinking every drop of ale they come in contact with." He muttered as Merlin chuckled, catching the man's eye as he smirked. "That's the time to get on his good side, Merlin."
"I can't even imagine trying to serve during a celebration like that." He laughed as Arthur rolled his eyes.
"You wouldn't have to serve, idiot. Most likely Gaius would bring you along."
"Gaius normally goes?"
"He and my father are friends; have been since before I was born." He nodded as if it were obvious. "Course I haven't seen him this year."
The observation was made offhandedly, the prince continuing to talk of the different royals and dignitaries that frequented the event, but Merlin felt guilt rising up inside him. If Gaius hadn't gone it was due to his looking after his charge, and though the warlock had no control of the circumstance, he still felt responsible for him missing out.
"Not that it matters much, he never stays for long. He always claimed that he had to prepare himself for all those that would be ill the following morning." Arthur continued, oblivious to the warlock's wandering thoughts.
"Is that why you're up here hiding, because everyone is drunk?" He teased, receiving an irritated look in response.
"I told you, I was taking a walk. The fact that even Morgana's company seemed more entertaining than listening to them relive old times for another year in a row is just a coincidence."
"I'm sure." Merlin nodded solemnly, though he knew his sarcasm had not gone unnoticed.
"So tell me, what would it have been?"
"What?"
"If you'd made a wish this year, what would it have been?" Arthur asked, a steady gaze lingering on him as the boy blinked.
He couldn't tell him the truth, couldn't admit that what he wanted most was the prince to accept him and his magic, so instead he offered a sheepish smile. "I've no clue, haven't had the time to really think on it." Which wasn't quite a lie, though it wasn't the truth either. It seemed to be enough for the blond though, the man's eyes falling away and looking back to the forest as Merlin studied him. "What about you? If you could wish for something for the oncoming year, what would it be?"
"I don't believe in wishes, Merlin."
"I know that, but if you did, what would you wish for?" He pushed, leaning forwards in a show of anticipation that drew a short laugh from his friend.
"I don't know.. actually, yes, I do. I'd wish for a competent servant, one who actually could do his job without constantly getting injured or getting himself into trouble." He spoke dryly, the sheepish smile returning to the warlock's face.
"Not enjoying my replacements then?"
"All of them are ridiculously stupid." He scoffed, folding his arms and speaking gruffly. "Even more so than you, which unfortunately says a lot."
"You've probably scared every single one who has tried to get near you." The boy remarked as Arthur scowled.
"If I have its for good reason."
"Guess that makes me a good servant in comparison then." He hummed, grinning at the prince whose scowl only deepened.
"Hardly." He spat. "In fact you're terrible; but at least you're entertaining."
"So glad I can be of service then." Merlin grumbled as his smile fell, tugging his cloak tighter around his shoulders while the sounds of music and off key singing made itself heard in the distance. "Sounds like things are getting more exciting."
"I ought to get back, someone's bound to have noticed my disappearance already." Arthur sighed, eyeing the boy as he pushed away from the pillar. "Gaius is probably wondering where you went off to as well."
"Probably." Merlin nodded, standing straighter and following the blond towards the stairwell. "Do you join them when they sing?"
"Shut up, Merlin."
"Because if you do, I'll have to come and listen."
"I said shut up, Merlin."
Chuckling as they walked down the stairs, Merlin's shoulder bumped against his friend's. "Happy New Year, Arthur." He declared as they reached the bottom and turned to go their separate ways.
Barely glancing back at the boy, a faint smile could still be seen tugging at the prince's lips as he nodded his way. "Happy New Year, Merlin."
Turning, the warlock made his way back through the still bustling halls, the ache in his shoulder ever present but the weariness he'd felt was gone. Perhaps the next year would hold better things for them, and maybe there was a chance that his wish would even come true this time.
A/N
For the record, little Merlin's wish for at least three years was to meet his father and that's why he stopped believing. You're welcome for that last minute angst. I also have a ton of exciting stuff planned for season two, and a lot more for that tower, so look forward to that this coming year! (I'm excited)
ANYWAY I'm posting this earlier than I'd planned but I'd like to wish everyone a very happy New Year! 2020 sucked ass BUT here's hoping and praying that 2021 can be salvageable! Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading my stories, you're made this year far more manageable and much more enjoyable. I hope to continue to write and grow and to provide you all with even more stories in the oncoming year! – Ace ^-^