Chapter 3 – The Dramatic Spell Reveal

Merlin had decided.

If words wouldn't work, and subtle hints kept missing their mark by entire kingdoms, then he'd go big.

Magic big.

A dramatic light show in Arthur's chambers. Floating goblets, enchanted candles, sparkling stars across the ceiling. Something so dazzling that even Arthur—bless his suspiciously thick skull—couldn't possibly ignore it.

No interruptions. No evasions. Just Merlin, magic, and undeniable proof that he wasn't just some weirdly energetic servant with a knack for turning up at the right time.

This was it.

The grand reveal.

He spent all afternoon preparing.

He enchanted the room to glow golden with soft light. The goblets floated gently in a circle above the table—just a gentle bob, nothing too theatrical (he remembered the last time and the impromptu goblet-based siege). Candles hovered in the air, twirling like lazy fireflies. The crowning glory was the ceiling—a swirling galaxy of light and colour, stars forming patterns that shimmered as they moved.

It was tasteful. Classy. He was aiming for "ancient magical majesty," not "possessed tapestry."

A single enchanted rose drifted slowly from the ceiling to land near the doorway—becausewhy not. A little flair never hurt anyone.

Merlin stood back, hands on hips, grinning at his handiwork.

It was perfect.

Arthur strode in from training, tunic half-unlaced, a towel draped around his neck. He stopped in the doorway.

'Merlin…?'

Merlin turned, glowing slightly with pride (and magic).

Arthur blinked, squinting up at the ceiling. 'What happened in here? Did someone spill the feast? Or… did the sky fall indoors?'

'No!' Merlin beamed. 'It's magic!'

Arthur wandered in, looking around like he was inspecting a suspiciously decorated tent.

'Why are my goblets floating?'

'I made them float!'

Arthur picked one out of the air and examined it. 'Huh. Clever rope trick. Bit showy, though. Has Gwaine been trying to impress the serving girls again?'

Merlin stared. 'Arthur. There arestarson your ceiling.'

'Yes,' Arthur said slowly, 'I know. Very pretty. Looks like a map. Is this part of your latest "cleaning innovation" or something?'

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose. 'This is not an innovation. This is sorcery.'

Arthur paused, looked around, and said with complete sincerity:

'Ah. So you finally figured out how to use reflective polish properly.'

'What?!'

Arthur gestured upward. 'The ceiling thing. Very shiny. You probably just angled a bunch of candles or something. Bit excessive for a polishing technique, but if it gets you out of dusting, I suppose I'll allow it.'

'You think I polished the sky?!'

Arthur nodded solemnly. 'You do get rather intense about cleaning when you're bored.'

Merlin looked like he wanted to launch himself into the sun.

Arthur walked over to the slowly spiralling rose and picked it up.

'And this? Gwen again?'

'It fell from the magically enhanced atmosphere!'

Arthur sniffed it. 'Well, at least it smells nice. Not sure about the rest of this decor, though. It's very… dramatic.'

'I was going for dramatic!' Merlin groaned.

Arthur nodded. 'Looks like you succeeded. If I had to guess, I'd say this was some kind of romantic gesture.'

Merlin squawked. 'It is not romantic!'

Arthur raised an eyebrow. 'So it's for me?'

Merlin threw his hands in the air. 'Yes! I mean—no! I mean, it's for you, but not like that—ugh! It's to show you that I havemagic! That I'm a warlock! That I've been—' he waved his arms at the room '—doing this the whole time!'

Arthur stared at him.

Then he reached up and plucked a candle out of mid-air. It hovered obediently above his palm.

'Hmm,' he said, examining it like it was a new species of fish. 'Must be that new beeswax. Didn't Gwen say it was lighter than usual?'

'It is hovering!'

Arthur shrugged and blew it out. 'Well, it's not anymore.'

Merlin gaped at him.

'You know what, forget it,' he muttered. 'I hope the next spell does turn your boots into frogs.'

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. 'Well done, Merlin. Great polishing. Very ambitious.'

And with that, he walked off whistling.

Merlin stood in the middle of his magical masterpiece and whispered, to no one in particular:

'I am going to murder him with a glitter hex.'

End of Chapter 3