Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was almost two weeks after Will's death when it happened.

Upon their return to Camelot, Merlin had had plenty of things to distract himself with. There were chambers to be cleaned, clothes to be washed, swords to be sharpened, excuses to be made, pieces of armour to be polished, herbs to be gathered - and Merlin threw himself into every task with a single-minded focus that allowed him to forget, for a little while, that his childhood best friend had taken an arrow for his destiny, in a battle he didn't even really want to be in. But eventually, every speck of dust was removed, Arthur's entire wardrobe was cleaner than ever, every sword in the armoury was sharp enough to slice a finger off with ease, all concerned parties had some sort of satisfactory explanation for their time in Ealdor, the armour store resembled a room of mirrors, and the forests surrounding Camelot were practically barren.

Merlin was standing over Arthur's bed, concentrating on eliminating every tiny wrinkle that marred his crimson sheets, while Arthur watched him from behind his desk, concerned. Usually, he was fortunate if his bed was made at all, and Merlin would almost certainly be talking his ear off if he was absolutely forced to do it. In truth, Arthur had come to enjoy Merlin's diatribes and monologues, and now his silence seemed...unnatural.

"Merlin?"

"Yes Arthur?"

"I think the bed is made now."

Merlin looked at the whole bed as if seeing it for the first time.

"I suppose it is."

As Merlin looked around the room for something else to clean, Arthur's brow furrowed.

"Merlin?"

"Yes Arthur?"

"When did you last sleep, exactly?"

The question seemed to pull Merlin up short, and he stood staring at the floor and muttering under his breath.

"I think...yesterday? For a bit. Not on purpose though…"

"And when did you last eat?"

"It was...definitely recently...Gaius made me eat some bread...maybe this morning? I can't remember."

Now Arthur was really concerned. The Merlin he knew did everything he could to get out of working, slept more than one of the teenage squires, and was constantly pinching pieces of food, despite his skinny build.

Now, Arthur was no idiot. Merlin might tell just about everyone that he was, but he was actually fairly intelligent. He knew that this un-Merlin-like behaviour had started after their return from Ealdor. He knew that Merlin was likely grieving the loss of his best friend, Will. What he didn't know was what he was supposed to do about it.

And Arthur was very much of the school of thought that anything was better than nothing.

"Are you alright, Merlin?"

"Alright? Yes Arthur, I'm alright, are you alright?"

"What? Me? Yes I'm fine, but, Merlin...aren't you a bit sad about Will?"

The moment Arthur said it, he wished he could take his words back. Even he, with his emotional awkwardness and stunted conversation skills, could see that that was not the right thing to say.

"I- What? A bit sad- Of course I'm sad about Will, Arthur! He was my best friend!"

"Merlin-"

"My best friend, my only friend, for years. And now he's...gone."

Arthur stood up as Merlin broke down, finally overwhelmed by his emotions.

"He's gone…"

"I'm sorry Merlin."

"And...I know he was...a sorcerer…" Merlin stumbled over the admission, as though unsure, "...but he was a good man, Arthur. A good man. And it's my fault he's dead. It's my fault." Merlin began to sob uncontrollably, and Arthur hovered, uncertain of exactly what he should do, eventually settling for what he hoped was a comforting hand on the shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Merlin." Said Arthur sincerely. "If anything, it's my fault, it was me the arrow was meant for. And it was Kanen who fired it. So blame him, or blame me, but it wasn't your fault. You were a good friend to him, even though he had magic."

For some reason, Merlin started crying even more at that statement (which Arthur really hadn't thought would be possible), and Arthur began to think that maybe a single comforting hand was inadequate. Perhaps two would serve better? But as he placed his other hand on Merlin's free shoulder, Merlin shot towards him, hiding his head in Arthur's shoulder as his legs apparently gave up on him, prompting Arthur to lower them both to the ground.

Arthur was now extremely out of his depth. Hugging was not something he had a lot of experience with - hugging his best friend who was grief stricken over the death of his best friend who had turned out to be a sorcerer but had died saving Arthur's life was something with which he had absolutely no comparable life experiences.

"It's okay, Merlin. It wasn't your fault." He repeated, moving his hands to Merlin's back and patting him awkwardly.

"It was though," Merlin sniffled, "If I had noticed that Kanen was about to fire...or if I could have saved him...or if…" Merlin didn't speak the final 'if' out loud, and Arthur wondered if it was to do with Will's magic.

"You couldn't have known, Merlin. We all thought Kanen was dead, and that arrow hit too close to his heart for anyone to have done anything."

Merlin stayed slumped silently for a few minutes, during which Arthur became very uncomfortable in his crouched position.

"Come on. Up." He eventually ordered, pulling Merlin up to a standing position. He looked at Merlin for a moment - eyes red-rimmed from crying, dark circles that looked like bruises from exhaustion, tear tracks down his cheeks, a bottom lip that seemed to wobble dangerously - and sighed.

"This way." He directed, leading Merlin over to the bed that he'd previously spent so long making and unceremoniously pulling back the sheets and dropping Merlin down on the mattress.

"But this is yours." Merlin protested.

"Yeah. But I don't think your bed is as comfortable as mine, and you look like you need a good night's sleep..."

"Oh…thanks, Arthur."

Arthur walked back to his desk and sat down, before adding: "...after all, you can't get my breakfast, polish my boots, join me in training, or proofread my speech for the council meeting if you're dead on your feet, can you?"

"...we both know that I'll be the one writing the speech."

"Shut up Merlin." Said Arthur smirking, secretly glad that his friend was back to teasing him. "Just...get some sleep."

There was silence for a minute or so, and Arthur was beginning to think that Merlin had actually listened to him for once and fallen asleep, when he heard a whisper.

"Arthur…"

"Yes, Merlin?"

"I mean it. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Really, if word gets out that we hugged, I'll have you put in the stocks for a month."

Merlin chuckled slightly, and Arthur was glad that he seemed to have his friend back. He'd still be grieving for a while, maybe forever, but he knew he wasn't alone anymore.

Maybe he wasn't so bad at the 'emotion' thing after all, Arthur decided.

Just so long as he never had to do it again.