Chapter 1
Notes:
heyyooo
so ... tbh ... i usually am not the biggest fan of kid fics which is most likely because i am horrible with children (not my fault, youngest child by a lot and no niblings) BUT, after thinking about it i thought Arthur would also be bad with kids too so ... 'write what you know' right? anyway, sorry if Merlin seems ooc for a child but i do think he would mostly just be a little shit lmao.
this first chapter is the only one from Merlin's pov and it is much more angsty than the fic will actually be. after this it will just be Arthur dealing with the kid and all his shenanigans. it gets super cute i promise <3
Chapter Text
Merlin didn’t remember falling asleep, which was strange. Usually it took him too long to fall asleep. And nothing seemed to help either. None of the gross smelling plants or strange sleeping positions Mom made him try. Eventually, she told him to ‘calm his brain’ which sounded like something adults told their kids when they didn’t have an answer. Regardless, Merlin listened to her. He spent his nights carefully going through his day, trying to remember every detail. If he somehow got to the end, he’d just start over, looking for what he must have missed the first time through. It wasn’t that he necessarily liked it, but it seemed to be the only thing that worked. Or, at least, exhausted his brain until it decided to rest.
So that was why it was strange waking up without any of the running thoughts from the day before. They always tried to follow him into wakefulness. Last he remembered, Merlin had been carrying heavy buckets back to water the crops. But those familiar peaceful meadows no longer filled his vision. Instead, when Merlin opened his eyes, he saw the pale face of a dead man not but a few feet away from him.
Merlin had seen a dead body before. Just once, a year prior when the old man across the village passed away in his sleep. He still remembered the way they carried the body out, stiff and lifeless. Mom had told him to stay inside, but Merlin was too curious for his own good. He hadn’t gotten a very good look from his hiding place behind the fence, but he didn’t need to in order to understand what death did to the body. When you died, every tiny bit of life bled out of you. It was cold and empty and made his skin crawl at how much of a person was lost when their heart stopped beating.
But the old man’s body hadn’t been this close. Much too far to see the horrible strain in his glazed eyes, the chilling slack of nothingness in his limbs. Now, Merlin got to study the corpse in detail. A crinkled face that sunk too deep. A swirling of old ink fading onto drained white skin. A dead man Merlin had never known, calling out to him in a silent scream.
The air stuttered around in his lungs when Merlin sat up from his hunched position on the ground, eyes never leaving the cold body next to him. They travelled down slowly, following the paths of bright red blood that flowed from a wound in his chest. Then, just when breathing had started seeming impossible, the muffling in his ears cleared enough for Merlin to hear the world around him.
His head shot around, finally losing sight of the lifeless corpse. People were behind him speaking in strong tones, a small group of men all covered head to toe in armor. This was something else Merlin had never seen up close. There was little reason for knights to come to his small village, far from any major cities. But these men all seemed too dignified, shiny metals pristine despite them being somewhere deep in the forest.
Panic rose higher with every second he observed the group. After a moment too long Merlin cut off their words he’d yet to understand through the pulsing in his brain. “What do you want with me?” His voice sounded choppy over his beating heart. They could probably hear every ounce of fear in his body. Merlin never liked people seeing that. He was brave and strong and not afraid to stand up for himself. In fact, his mom had often told him to be more restrained, lest someone look a little too closely.
One of the knights put his hands up carefully, taking a tiny step toward his crumpled form on the ground. Merlin leaned back a bit at his approach. “We don’t want anything from you.” Liar. Merlin wasn’t dumb. These men had taken him away, somewhere he didn’t know, and left him next to a dead man murdered with practiced precision. This wasn’t coincidence.
A breeze swirled with the knight’s next step, his cape swinging out behind him. Merlin’s heart stopped in its rhythm. Camelot red. He knew what that meant. They’d found him out. Somehow they knew of his magic and were taking him back to Camelot to be killed. He couldn’t let that happen. Or at the very least, he wouldn’t go quietly.
Suddenly Merlin burst into motion, sprinting to the cover of trees. Either it would give him enough time to hide or enough time to figure out what else he could possibly do. He had magic. Powerful magic his mom says. But Merlin didn’t know a single spell. Magic had always just happened around him, rarely in his control. But Merlin was quick. The only real chance he had to stay alive was to run. Adrenaline took up every part of his being and all Merlin focused on was putting his feet down as fast as possible, on getting away.
A harsh yank made him yelp and he was suddenly pulled back, hand firm on his arm. Merlin struggled as much as he could, thrashing and yanking, but the hand held strong. A Camelot knight knelt in front of him, grip bruising on his shoulders to keep Merlin in place.
“Merlin!” the man called, strong and careful. “Look at me.” Finally Merlin braved a glance, just a shift of his eyes. The knight didn’t necessarily look threatening. His face was a strange kind of pleading and anxious. It made Merlin lessen his struggle, but he still tried to jerk out of the hold with subdued efforts. Warily, he stared back into those curious eyes.
The man looked back at him meaningfully. “I know.” So he was going to be executed. Redoubling his efforts, Merlin planted his feet hard and pushed. The knight only held stronger, pleas becoming more desperate. “I know, but they don’t,” he said, flicking his head out toward the forest they had come from.
It got Merlin to pause. That didn’t make sense, they had already taken him all the way out here. “I know, and I will protect you.” Those eyes bore into his, so steadfast, so honest. Merlin furrowed his brow. Why in the world would this Camelot knight protect him? Lie for him? What else did he want with him? “I will protect you.” Merlin nodded tentatively and the man loosened his grip a bit. “Actually usually it’s you who protects me,” he said with an amused smile. Merlin swiveled his head in confusion, careful that the knight never left his sight.
He huffed out a sigh and smiled reassuringly. “There was a sorcerer back there who cast a spell on you. He made you young again. Into your childhood self.”
Merlin widened his eyes in disbelief. “Into me?”
The knight nodded, smile softening a bit in relief. “Yes. The Merlin I know is just a few years younger than me.” Okay. Okay, that sounded insane, but Merlin had no other explanation for how he had gotten there. Plus, despite the deafening warning bells ringing in his brain, this knight seemed to be genuinely kind.
Narrowing his eyes, Merlin studied the man, trying to find any reason to distrust him. “Why was I with you?”
Just then there was a rustle in the trees and a few of the other knights shuffled into view. Instinctively Merlin struggled again, eyes only seeing that dark shade of red. The hands tightened on his shoulders and Merlin looked back to the panicked face in front of him. The knight’s words were soft when he spoke. Reassuring. Compassionate. “You’re safe.” Merlin’s breathing slowed again. Against his better judgement, he really did trust this man.
“I’m sorry if we scared you, Merlin,” another man called out, hesitantly stepping closer to them. He smiled bright, a shy kind of guilt to his demeanor. “We didn’t really know what to do in that situation either.” The first knight loosened his grip completely, hands trailing down his arms like they were ready to hold him in place again at any moment. With Merlin’s slight distraction the other knight had come near, kneeling with a hand outstretched. “Name’s Gwaine.”
Merlin stared down at the hand with slotted eyes before flicking them upward. “Why do you know me?” It still didn’t make sense. If they weren’t holding him for his magic then for what else?
The knight laughed a bit, cheery but calm. “We’re your friends.”
Merlin immediately took a step back, shaking his head suspiciously. “Not with a Camelot knight.”
“I know it seems strange,” the first knight said warily, “but we met when I was just another commoner. Both of us did.” He nodded his head over to Sir Gwaine. “In fact, you were the one to help us become knights.”
The longer Merlin spent with these people the more he started to question their story. “How and why would I do that?”
Sir Gwaine jumped in, smile growing playful. “Well him you kind of lied for, and I just got roped in when the kingdom was in peril.”
They all startled at a harsh yell across the clearing. “Lancelot,” someone called out in a commanding tone. That must be the first knight’s name. “The horses are ready to go.”
Merlin’s eyes had widened in fear at the shout, but both of the knights instead had small smiles on their faces. “Don’t mind the princess. He’s just all panicky ‘cause you were in danger,” Sir Gwaine said with a teasing smirk down at him. For some reason it almost made Merlin blush.
Both men stood fully then, Lancelot placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What do you say? Should we go home?” Merlin started taking hesitant steps along with him, guided by a steady hand on his back.
“I live in Camelot?” His voice shook on a whisper. The adrenaline had started petering out and now all he felt was the shock and fear of the situation. Not only was he currently set foot in the place that would kill him without hesitation, but they were telling him he chose to stay there every day.
Sir Lancelot shot that kind smile down to him again, squeezing his arm reassuringly. “Merlin, I promise you, with my utmost sincerity. You are safe.”
It might have been stupid to go along with all this, but Merlin didn’t know what else to do. Running wasn’t feasible. Magic was out of the question. So, at least for now, he could follow these knights and try to figure out if they were telling the truth. Figure out whether he was actually being led to his very own pyre.
They stopped in a small area with the rest of the knights and a handful of horses. The men all moved around still, listening to orders being given by the blond knight again. He seemed to be the one in charge, voice hard and absolute, commanding easily. Powerfully. When his gaze ran over Merlin it was only a moment, but he still felt the chill sink into his bones from those piercing eyes.
A horse came up next to them and Sir Lancelot let go of his shoulder to hop on. Merlin didn’t realize how comforting even that small gesture had been and immediately shrank in on himself, unprotected. Gwaine quickly took his spot though, his friendly aura easing just a bit of the anxiousness.
The main knight stopped talking, suddenly turning those unflinching eyes toward him fully. It sent a shock through Merlin. His stare was too strong, too calculated. “You alright?” Emotionless, but there was something strange in his voice that couldn’t be hidden as easily as it was in his eyes. Merlin didn’t quite know what it was. He could only nod sharply, standing a bit taller in suspicion. The knight nodded back and the foreign gleam shone through his mask just a bit more.
Gwaine laughed, shaking Merlin from their contact. “Don’t know what to do now that you can’t be mean, huh Arthur?”
The second he said it Merlin’s blood turned cold in his veins. Some part of his brain screamed at him to get away, pushing himself further into Gwaine. He whispered out numbly, little more than a breath. “Uther’s son.”
Before Merlin could even think to run again, hands were under his arms and he was being lifted onto Lancelot’s horse. He situated Merlin into the right position in front of him and grabbed the reins with a smile. They were already on their way before Merlin’s heart calmed down enough for him to talk. “That’s the prince,” he muttered up to Lancelot.
“Actually, he’s our king now,” another knight said from beside them, horse falling in stride. Merlin’s breathing quickened again, but the air felt deep and cool in his lungs. For some reason, instead of being overcome with fear, he mostly just couldn’t get over his confusion. It was probably from shock. So far, nothing was making sense. Every new fact he learned just gave Merlin more reason to run far, far away. And all of these knights were acting like they were somehow being comforting.
Squaring his shoulders, Merlin decided he may as well lean fully into the mystery. He was good at getting information, sneaky and annoying and just good enough with words to distract from his objective. In fact, his mom had complained about that particular skill many times before. “Did the kingdom change? After his son took over?” He’d said it strong, but Merlin was sure Lancelot could feel the slight trembling where they were connected at his back.
“It actually started long before Uther’s rule ended. Arthur was always finding ways to defy the king’s orders,” another knight said, smiling sweet. He couldn’t tell you why, but Merlin decided that this knight was the most trustworthy. There was something about those steady eyes, his strength almost gentle.
“But did he change any laws?” Merlin asked the knight expectantly. He would have gone to Lancelot, but with them being surrounded by people trained to kill him, Merlin couldn’t exactly ask directly. Plus, this man seemed genuine and honest, not like the others that might not give him the answer he sought.
Unfortunately, the knight wasn’t given the room to respond. Lancelot beat him to the answer, most definitely knowing exactly what Merlin was trying to do. “Arthur is a good king,” he said, smiling down at the top of his head. He was trying to be comforting again, quelling the fear. It made Merlin roll his eyes subtly. He wanted answers, not reassurances. “He cares for his people. He cares for you.”
Merlin twisted around in his seat to give Lancelot an incredulous face. Were these knights actually delusional? That was starting to sound much more likely than all these strange things he was being told.
In response to his reaction, all the men around him laughed. Merlin glanced around at them curiously. “It’s true,” the honest knight said, evidently much better than the rest at settling his amusement. “Arthur has grown into a fine leader, and much of that was because you were by his side.”
Merlin peered up toward where the King rode ahead of them. His shoulders were stiff, but he couldn’t tell if it was because he’d heard their conversation or if they were just always like that. Merlin squinted his eyes a bit, still stuck on the back of that blond hair. “Why?”
“Believe me,” Sir Gwaine leaned closer to him with a childish grin on his cheeks, “I ask myself why you keep helping that man every day.”
It was starting to get frustrating that no one would take his questions seriously. “No. I mean why was I with him?”
Everyone shared strange glances around him, most sent just above his head to Lancelot. Why were they all acting so put off? Merlin was just asking simple questions. Why would he, a random peasant from a neighboring kingdom, be speaking with the King. The King of Camelot no less.
“Officially, you are his manservant,” another knight said. Merlin had no intention of turning to see which one it was. “But we all know it’s more than that. You are truly friends. In fact, I’m pretty sure all of Camelot knows. You’re not exactly good at hiding it, regardless of your constant bickering.” Merlin shook his head minutely, still not entirely convinced anything being said was true. Or, at the very least, knowing the tone they used was much too positive to be reflective of reality.
Merlin was so focused on the king riding in front of them that he jolted when the man suddenly shifted, yelling behind him in a strong voice. “Leon,” he called. The honest knight- Sir Leon apparently- sped up and matched their stride. They both talked quietly to each other, only loud enough for Merlin to know the King’s voice was still stilted in displeasure when he spoke.
After that he didn’t hear the King speak again. The rest of the ride was pleasant, if not a little strange. When the King called Sir Leon away the others all calmed as well. Merlin would still ask questions and they would still explain things, but it had slowed down a lot. Many times, they would let Merlin sit in silence, taking in all the information. Or, maybe he was just trying to convince himself of his situation. To which conclusion he was trying to convince himself, Merlin wasn’t quite sure.
By the time the trees had started petering out, his curiosity had taken up more space than anything else. He searched through the gaps in the branches, trying to adjust to the new light. When they finally breached the tree line, his eyes grew impossibly wide. It was grander than anything he’d ever seen. Even from their long distance away, Merlin could feel the majesty of Camelot. The spires were built to the skies, artful in their hills and valleys. Everything was lined with bright golds and reds, and for once Merlin found he wasn’t frightened of the color.
It took a second before Merlin got his voice back. “I live here?” Laughter rang out around him. Their amusement must have made sense. If they were to be believed, this was something Merlin saw every single day. He wondered how he could have lost any awe, even if this wasn’t a new sight.
Everyone was still speaking as they made their way into the city, but Merlin couldn’t really hear them. He was too focused on taking in every detail. Not only the buildings were intriguing, all crowded together with sturdy walls, but the people. Merlin had never seen that large an amount of them, shuffling together like sheep through the crowded streets. They all seemed to have somewhere to go, something to do, weaving hurriedly through the many colorful market booths as they passed. It was very different than the quiet village life Merlin had always lived.
They were already far into the city when Merlin noticed all the people addressing them. Most would bow politely to the group, showing respect with kind smiles. Some would even forgo the formalities all together and talk to the men with easy words. It made Merlin even more confused. This wasn’t anything like the Camelot he heard of. In his time, King Uther was cruel and unbending, to magic and non-magic folk alike. Here, no one seemed to be scared of the King in the slightest. It only made for more questions in Merlin’s already spiraling brain.
Once they finally made it up to the castle Merlin stared slack-jawed at the high walls. It was even more magnificent up close. Here, he could see all the tiny details carved in its stones. Most of the structure was something Merlin had never even seen, never knew some elements could have existed.
“Welcome back, sire.” Merlin was jolted back to the present as a commoner walked up to them, helping bring the horses to a stop. Once again, he didn’t seem to be intimidated by their powerful group at all. When Sir Elyan passed over the reins of the empty horse he looked back at them curiously. “Did Merlin not make it back with you?”
Merlin’s brows knit together sharply. So, the knights hadn’t been lying. Not only was he known to be with this group, but he was known well enough that his presence was a given. Just how had he gotten himself into this kind of position?
The King jumped down from his horse, fussing with his gloves as he responded. “He is perfectly safe, have no worries.” The people were even worried about him? Enough to ask the King?
Everyone else got down from their horses as well, Lancelot gently lifting him down from his perch. The servants all led the horses away, some chatting politely with the knights. When the first stable boy came up to them, their eyes caught. Merlin made sure to keep his strong. He wouldn’t be intimidated by these Camelot citizens. The man simply stared back, a curious kind of recognition crossing his features.
Before he could ask any questions, the King called the knights to attention. He gave out some basic orders, Merlin ignoring them all to continue gazing around them. When he looked back to the group, he found those blue eyes piercing into his, something cold hidden behind their shine. Merlin took a step back reflexively, a short gasp rushing into his lungs.
Peculiarly, Merlin thought he saw a tiny crack of blue at his recoil. “Get him to Gaius,” the King stated, gaze now on Lancelot. “I will check in as soon as I can.” And then, with one last strangely hesitant look at Merlin, he strode up the steps into the castle. For some reason, it took Merlin a couple moments to get his mind back in control.
“Well?” Lancelot said, taking his focus away from the retreating king. Merlin looked back at him questioningly. His kind smile grew, affection heavy in his voice. “Do you want to see your home?”
Merlin’s eyes lit up a bit. Seeing Camelot was already incredible, and now he got to see just where he fit in to all of it. “With the physician right?”
“Gaius,” Sir Percival remarked, starting their walk around the castle. “You’re not related by blood, but…you are each other’s family.” The fond expression on his face let Merlin know just how true that statement was.
His gaze turned down to his feet as he walked, mind circling on this new information. A strange kind of giddiness swirled in his stomach. He whispered down quietly, more to himself than to the few knights who were with him. “I’ve never had a father.” The idea that he might have someone close to that made his heartbeat quicken in anticipation.
Letting out a very undignified wheeze, Merlin stepped a little too unsteady and had to jump to right himself. The clothes he wore were much too big for him, and he had to roll up his sleeves and pants high on his limbs. His shoes on the other hand, he could do nothing about. They were loose around his feet and every step was a little harder to make.
He heard an amused snort from above him. “Still just as clumsy, I see.” Honestly, Merlin was starting to like Sir Gwaine. He was kind, but with a special humor that made everyone around him feel relaxed. Cheery. Maybe they really had been friends. Merlin shot a petulant glare up to Sir Gwaine and he laughed out loudly. “Do you want to sit on my shoulders?” he asked, still with a hint of teasing to his tone.
For the briefest second, Merlin’s eyes widened eagerly. Then, he decided to lean into the teasing nature as well. He was never good at propriety anyway. Merlin narrowed his eyes dramatically, looking Gwaine up and down with a skeptical expression. “No,” he stated, watching as a bit of the warmth drifted from his eyes. “I’d practically have the same view.” Merlin just barely caught the surprised glint in his eyes before turning his head up the other way imploringly. “Sir Percival?”
The moment he’d said it Gwaine’s raucous laughter rang out behind him. Merlin didn’t look back, instead sending a playful smile up to Sir Percival. He chuckled as well, giving Merlin an unexpected, but pleased expression. He easily moved Merlin up to his shoulders, picking him up like he weighed nothing.
“And still just as cheeky, too,” Gwaine finally huffed out, shaky with his continued laughs.
Merlin smiled again, but his gaze was now cast around him, distracted by all the sights he now could see from his higher angle. “You started it,” he said in a mocking voice.
“He always does,” Lancelot added, humor still clear in his voice.
Before anyone else could respond, Merlin realized just where they were headed. “Wait,” he muttered sitting up straighter on Sir Percival’s shoulders. “I live in the castle!?” Merlin stared down at the knights in awe, eyes moving fast between them.
They all laughed again, definitely not understanding just how respectable that was to a peasant like him. “Yes, of course,” Sir Percival said, tilting his head up even though they couldn’t see eye to eye. “Gaius is the court physician. Not to mention you serve the King. With how much Arthur needs you, you’ve got to be close.”
At this point, they were already making their way through the castle. Inside was even more extravagant than the outside. Everywhere he looked he saw lavish tapestries or ornate furniture or simply just the perfect masonry of stones. He’d never seen anything like it.
Suddenly, Merlin’s face was just inches away from those stones as they stepped up to the door. Sir Percival was too tall for him to even realize they weren’t just staring at the wall until he heard the creak of hinges. They had to bend at such an awkward angle to get in that Merlin almost slid right off his shoulders. He made sure to grumble appropriately when he shuffled back into place.
“Ah, the esteemed knights of Camelot,” a voice pulled Merlin’s attention away from the perfect mess around the room. There were so many treasures shoved into its corners, so many things to explore. He hoped he’d get the chance to soon. “What can I do for you?”
The man put down some plants he’d been messing around with and gave his whole focus to the group. Merlin tilted his head a bit as he took him in. He seemed kind, eyes full of a fond mirth. He was older than Merlin had pictured, more like a grandfather than a father, but he didn’t care too much. According to the knights, this was his family. Someone that cared for him unashamedly and absolutely. He didn’t care what exactly Gaius looked like in the end.
“Yes. Well,” Lancelot drifted off, not quite sure how to explain just what was going on. Merlin knew the feeling. As he spoke, Sir Percival grabbed under his arms and brought Merlin down to the floor. It brought everyone’s attention back to him and he looked up into the questioning eyes of Gaius just a few feet away from him.
The man took a hesitant step forward, barely a whisper making it through his lips, “Merlin?”
Well, that actually helped a lot. It was a lot easier to convince someone of the impossible when they already had their suspicions. Sure, Merlin had mostly accepted it, given too much information to be in denial anymore, but he had come in with absolutely no knowledge of what could have possibly happened. Gaius apparently already knew who he was.
Merlin smiled up to him easily. Waking up to the knights had only been terrifying, but Gaius was someone who had devoted his life to saving people, not burning them. Plus, if they were as close as everyone kept saying they were, his magic probably wasn’t a secret with him either.
“That was easier than expected.” Gwaine’s quiet quip finally brought them all out of their shock. But while they weren’t frozen any longer, all shifting their feet and eyes around, no one spoke any further. Must not have been so easy after all.
Good thing Merlin had never cared too much about keeping quiet. Instead, he turned in a circle, taking in all the sights again. “I really live here?” He asked to no one in particular.
“What happened?” Gaius asked the knights, not bothering to answer Merlin’s question. No matter. Merlin was still busy cataloguing every detail of the room.
“He intercepted a spell meant for Arthur.” Merlin couldn’t tell you which knight said it. Although, he did take in that bit of information. No one had told him the reason he was hit was because he’d been protecting the King. He still was rather confused on why he would risk being near him at all, let alone sacrificing himself for the ruler of Camelot.
Gaius let out a long suffering sigh and sat down on the bench full of the plants he had been working with. “Well, it’s definitely Merlin.” The way he said it made it seem like his self-sacrificing nature was not something unusual for his older self. “Come here, then,” he said, motioning Merlin forward. “Let me make sure everything is alright.”
Merlin immediately shook his head softly, not moving from his spot. “I’m fine,” he said, turning his head back to the wall of books he’d yet to fully get through.
“Definitely still Merlin,” he muttered with another soft sigh. There was still something gentle in his voice, sweet and rich and loving. “Come on, my boy. Whether or not you say you feel fine, I will still need to take a look.”
A smile drifted onto Merlin’s face as he stepped over. “You sound like Mom,” he mumbled fondly once he was planted in front of the bench. A beautiful warmth had settled in his chest. Everyone might have told him that this man was his family, but that was very different than actually feeling it. And suddenly, in just the blink of an eye, Merlin had someone else to love and love him back.
Gaius shared in his amusement, eyes crinkling with compassion. “I seem to remember Hunith being plenty knavish when she likes to be,” he said with a careful hand held to Merlin’s forehead. His movements were sure and practiced, but when their eyes caught Merlin saw nothing but that sweet affection. It made both of their smiles stretch bigger on their lips.
Gwaine stepped up to them just as Gaius started patting his hands around Merlin’s body, checking for any other ailments. He sent a cheeky grin down to them. “That might just be from having to try and keep this one in control all the time,” he said with a sharp nod over to Merlin. Instead of answering Merlin stuck out his tongue with a playful glare. Gwaine sent it right back, affection heavy in his eyes too. Merlin found that he was liking the people his old self chose to keep around.
Once Gaius had deemed him healthy he sat back and turned his gaze upward. “Gwaine, do you think you could go fetch Merlin some more appropriate clothes? Gwen should know where some are if you are having trouble.” Gwaine nodded, sent Merlin one more teasing smile, and stalked out of the room with a whistle.
“I should go see if Arthur has finished his report yet,” Sir Percival called from the doorway. “He said he wanted to check in once he was done.”
A stitch came to Merlin’s brow again. He didn’t like how everyone kept talking about the King. It just reminded him of where he was, the danger he was actually in. When it was just Lancelot and Gaius left in the room with him, Merlin felt secure enough to voice his grievances. “No one calls him King,” he muttered, not looking them in the eye.
“Most do,” Lancelot said softly, trying to catch Merlin’s gaze. He only gave him the corner of it. “But, I guess there are some that are more familiar with our King. He is not like his father, Merlin. Arthur rules out of compassion. Not fear.”
Merlin liked Lancelot. He really did. There was something about the man that made you feel peaceful. Like his honor brought with it a soothing warmth. But he was also starting to distrust that reassuring smile. Sure, it seemed like the man was telling the truth. Well, at least his truth. Lancelot sincerely believed in Merlin’s safety, but just because he believed it didn’t mean it was true. Even this young, Merlin had already learned that long ago.
He turned his eyes fully away, hardening them in the boldness that his mother always hated that he possessed. “He’s the King of Camelot.” That was all he wanted to say to get his point across. It didn’t matter how good a man was when he was still okay with the murder of innocents.
Just then the door opened and the man himself walked through, Sir Percival nowhere in sight. Even the way he approached them, rigid and unperturbed, made Merlin narrow his eyes more. “How is he?” the King asked with just as much false strength as before. It was a wonder no one else had noticed it.
“He’s fine, sire. No physical injuries.” Merlin made sure to shoot a petulant look over to Gaius. He’d told them he was fine. Gaius raised his eyebrow considerably in response and Merlin sank back a bit in subtle guilt.
When Merlin turned his head back he flinched. The King was staring right into his soul, too intense for Merlin to figure out just what he was thinking. “Good. Any ideas on how to break the enchantment?” His eyes left his to stare back toward Gaius, the strange flicker of unease leaving them. It hadn’t escaped Merlin’s notice that the King had only spoken to him one time, all of two words. Whoever thought he actually cared for him must have been severely mistaken.
“Not yet, sire. Were there any signs as to what the spell could have been?”
After that, the adults all leapt into a very boring conversation on what to do next. Merlin didn’t care too much for it. He wasn’t exactly concerned about returning to a life he didn’t even remember. Plus, there wasn’t anything he could really do about it anyway.
Instead, he sat himself next to Gaius and started looking at some of the books lining the table. They all seemed medical, which made sense. It was fascinating. Merlin was overjoyed at the amount of books he now suddenly had access to. So much to learn that usually a peasant would never get the chance to know.
He’d rarely had the opportunity to read, his mother only teaching him a couple years ago. Not to mention the limited books they even had. Mostly, he would read the words of himself or his mom whenever they scraped together enough money for parchment. Once, he’d even found an old love letter shoved between the cracks of the walls. Merlin had returned the paper almost immediately, knowing any talk of his father only brought his mom more pain. But still, he kept the sweet words close to his heart, glad he was given a chance to know their meaning.
It was when Merlin accidentally lost the marked page of one of the books that he was brought out of his daze. He whipped his head up at Gaius’s soft questioning, trying not to look too guilty. “Merlin, how old are you?”
“Nine summers.” It was actually almost ten summers now, but most of the old folk in the village got a little annoyed every time he pointed that out. And Merlin didn’t need any reason for the King to be annoyed with him.
The men all sank in disappointment at his words, Merlin shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “Very powerful, then,” Lancelot whispered, tone defeated in a way Merlin hadn’t heard from him yet.
“There are still many different spells the sorcerer could have used. We don’t know whether it was of the Old Religion or not, no distinctive words, no markings relating him to a magical faction,” Gaius recounted to the King, worry clear in his features. “As of now, we know not how the enchantment can be lifted.”
The King let out a frustrated growl and paced a few steps away. His hair looked disheveled which made sense once he ran a hand through it in distress. It shook Merlin. Not seeing the King in such a state, but the fact that for some unknowable reason it was directed at him.
“He had a tattoo on his neck,” Merlin pointed out after a few seconds more of eyeing the King, tone detached but thoughtful. All eyes turned to him. He made sure not to sink down in his seat. “I saw it when I woke up. It was, swirls and circles and teeth I think.” At everyone’s confusion Merlin did finally deflate a bit. He lifted his shoulders in a disappointed shrug. It was harder to explain than he thought. Maybe he wasn’t actually being helpful.
Lancelot turned to him after a moment with a curious look. “Could you draw it?” Merlin’s face lit up. He could definitely do that. Plus, his mom always chastised him when he wasted too much paper with random doodles. It was nice to have an excuse for once.
After Merlin drew the symbol everyone went back to their tense conversation. He kept to himself again, tuning in from time to time to make sure nothing interesting was happening. The parchment he was given started filling up with random drawings, surrounding the symbol with flowers and animals that looked a little off with his unpracticed hands. A sudden loud voice a few minutes later caused him to jump, ink smearing the page.
“A month!?” Merlin peered up at the King, subconsciously hiding his face from the anger, even if it wasn’t meant for him.
“That is the longest I can see it lasting, sire. More than likely, it will fade in a week or so. It cannot be sustained for long with the caster dead.” Merlin looked between the two men confusedly. Gaius had an almost chastising gleam to his eye. That wasn’t something someone should ever do to a king. What was even stranger was that the King seemed to sink a bit in shame as he held the gaze.
But it was gone in just a second and the uncomfortable stress settled back into the air. Merlin turned his attention back to the drawings. When the paper was full he moved to the books, only distracted once when Gwaine came back with a pile of clothes and a ruffle to his hair that Merlin waved off with a scowl.
He wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed, but the sky had darkened outside and Merlin could feel the weight in his bones from the stressful day. On his third yawn Lancelot finally stood from his seat, telling the others it was late and Merlin should sleep. For once, Merlin found he agreed.
“I will go ask Geoffry if he has any records that may help,” the King said, hands crossed tight around his front. The more Merlin studied him, the more he saw the stress so carefully hidden behind his mask. Suddenly, those harrowing eyes were back on him with the same intensity. But with the King’s tiredness a bit more of his control must have slipped and, for just a moment, Merlin could convince himself that there was nothing but concern on his face. He didn’t flinch away from the stare this time.
With a final nod, the stony expression returned and the King started walking to the exit. “Inform me of any progress.” And with that, he was gone, Merlin left gazing at the wood on the door from where he’d left.
A few others followed him out as well. Merlin hadn’t even noticed that many of the knights had returned to talk with them. Most of them bid him goodnight, sharing sweet smiles as they walked away. Merlin found that with every smile his chest felt a bit lighter.
Once again, it was only him, Lancelot, and Gaius left in the room. That peace felt easier to reach when it was just the three of them. Merlin let out another yawn and both men smiled fondly. “Come on,” Lancelot said as he stood. “Let’s get you to bed.” Merlin stood as well, eyes drooping dangerously low. He was led toward some stairs at the back of the physician chambers that must have led outside. “Your room is just up here.”
Immediately, Merlin’s eyes no longer felt heavy. A surprised kind of glee flew through his veins. “I have my own room!?”
At his exclamation laughter filled the room again. Merlin couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed, too focused on trying to figure out the crazy life he apparently lived some time not too far in his future.
Chapter Text
Arthur was having a horrible week. His rooms were spotless, food always on time, he was never interrupted by snarky comments, no loud wake ups or wine spilled down his shirt, and it all made Arthur miserable.
He’d never really realized how much he relied on Merlin. Not even necessarily for all the random things he did for the kingdom like writing his speeches or paying attention in council when Arthur forgot to. No. More than anything Arthur just felt lonely. Which was just plain stupid. Because Arthur had plenty of people to talk to throughout the day. He talked to Gwen or nobles at council or with the knights at training. Hell, he was even known to pleasantly chat with the servants he was familiar with on occasion. But all it took was one person, one tiny change in all of Camelot, for Arthur to feel the joy slowly bleed out of him.
It would have been easier if Merlin wasn’t technically still in the castle. But this wasn’t his Merlin anymore. This child couldn’t wake him up in his usual insolent way or boss him around like no servant ever should a king. In fact, Merlin couldn’t even look at Arthur anymore without a horrible fear swirling in his eyes. It was a torture Arthur could never have imagined. Merlin was supposed to look at him with that proud expression that always settled sweetly in Arthur’s gut. Not with such a darkened terror, grown only from the deepest suffering.
Pretty quickly, Arthur decided it was best to avoid eye contact with the child altogether.
Little to no progress had been made on figuring out how to fix Merlin either. In fact Gaius (along with everyone else in the bloody castle) decided it was best to wait it out until the enchantment wore off. So, not only was Arthur stuck in this state of maddening longing, but he had no idea if or when he could make it out.
It was just salt in the wound that Arthur had never been the best at interacting with kids to begin with. He was an only child (in experience) and never had any real reason to be around children growing up. Even when he did, there were appearances he had to keep as the Prince. All he had learned was how to excite visiting noble’s children, impressing them with his swordsmanship or flustering them with his exaggerated flattery. This? The ghost of a friend stuck in an unaware body? Arthur had no idea what step to take next.
Tragically, he realized he’d been just as out of his element when Merlin and him had first met. Except this time, Arthur knew exactly what he was missing by not having that certain someone to stand by his side.
After the first discouraging meeting with Gaius, Arthur started avoiding the boy at all costs. He didn’t want to see those eyes, a shade of blue that still looked so familiar, staring back at him without a hint of recognition. Eyes that met his like prey, keeping warry sight on their attacker. And now that was all Arthur was. The predator. The monster under his bed.
And just to make it worse, just another shadow in Arthur’s already dimmed life, everywhere he went there were whispers. Merlin’s little predicament wasn’t exactly a secret. Gossip in Camelot was impossible to contain and it seemed like Merlin was as well, regardless of age. It felt like every hallway Arthur walked down he would hear a new person fawning over the boy, all chirpy giggles and fond sighs. Everywhere he went, Arthur was reminded of what he’d lost and how easily everyone else had gotten it back.
A bubbly laugh rang out through the castle, too familiar in its glee, and on instinct Arthur changed his path. He was now headed away from the council room rather than to it, but he didn’t want to brave the whispers again. It was still too painful to listen to their excited voices when all he felt was the sorrow at not being able to join them.
His detour took him out into the courtyard. It was actually a very nice distraction from everything. Arthur hadn’t made a point to remember what the sun felt like on his skin these last few days. He hadn’t looked at the bustling crowds, all hurrying around with peaceful smiles on their faces. It always made him feel better to take his focus onto his people, see just how happy they were under his rule regardless of his insecurities. Merlin was often the one to remind him of this, dragging Arthur forcefully into town to get out of the stuffiness of tactless nobles and impossible decisions. With the memory, that familiar reassuring calm of the city suddenly seemed unreachable again.
In his daze, Arthur had apparently stopped in the middle of the busy throng of people. He really should get inside soon. The council would not be too happy that he was once again late to his own meeting. But when his eyes caught on Gwaine’s hunched form beside the wall, Arthur decided he could make one more stop before subjecting himself to the long meeting with no chatty manservant to whisper in his ear when it got too boring.
Gwaine didn’t even notice him until he was only a few inches away, too focused on something just around the corner. In fact, he looked like he was hiding behind that corner. That didn’t bode well for Arthur. “Sir Gwaine,” he stated with all his kingly strength. Gwaine had always been particularly disrespectful though and, much to Arthur’s irritation, he immediately turned to push his hand over his mouth. Arthur shoved the hand off indignantly and sent a fiery glare down that Gwaine didn’t even bother to meet. “What do you think you’re doing, Gwaine!”
He only received another hasty sushing, Gwaine barely sparing him a glance before turning back. “You’re gonna give me away,” he mumbled annoyed, like he was the one being insulted in this instance. Against his better judgement, curiosity got the best of him and Arthur peaked his head out too, looking for whatever mess Gwaine was obviously making.
A rope coiled around his heart when he did, sucking all the air out of his lungs. “Are you using Merlin for your stupid, miscreant schemes!?” Arthur hissed through clenched teeth. Because there in front of them was this child Merlin, looking up at a noble with a ghostly pale on his face. Arthur had lived through enough of Gwaine’s ploys to know this was exactly what he’d been intending for.
Gwaine snorted absently at Arthur’s outrage. “Of course not. This was his idea,” he said with a nod toward the pair in front of them. The twisted, proud smile on his lips let Arthur know just how true that sentence was. Not to mention Merlin already loved messing with the nobles, something that was probably only heightened in his immature body.
Before the anger settled enough for Arthur to respond, Merlin’s eyes filled with tears and an intrinsic concern hardened his muscles. Gwaine’s joyous laugh made him jump in surprise, shocked out of that unsettling worry. “Oh gods, he really can cry on command!” Once again, it was said with much too much excitement for such a juvenile action. It was a very good thing Gwaine wasn’t around to influence any children. In fact, Arthur should probably order him to stay away from Merlin too if this was the result.
Both men remained still for a few moments, quietly observing Merlin’s honestly surprisingly good acting. “What exactly is he even doing?” Arthur asked after he saw Lord Harrion whip his head around to make sure no one heard whatever this sobbing peasant child had said.
“Pretending to be Harrion’s bastard son,” Gwaine said with a shrug that was inappropriately nonchalant for the words.
“Excuse me?” Arthur finally turned his head over to his knight- one of his best knights he had to remind himself- that apparently had enough impudence to trick a high standing official. Even if it was Merlin’s idea, that hadn’t meant they had to follow through with it! Merlin was no longer the adult in this relationship!
Gwaine turned his gaze up to Arthur, unimpressed and just as insubordinate as usual. “Oh, come on. You know he deserves it.” Unfortunately, Gwaine was absolutely right. Harrion was brash and rude, disrespectful in contempt rather than Gwaine’s aloofness. Often Arthur had to smother the urge to hit the man, finally quiet all of his belittling slights. But that wasn’t something a king should ever admit let alone actually do.
When they looked back, Lord Harrion was walking hurriedly toward the castle and a smiling Merlin was now running clumsily their way. Arthur felt something sharp twist in his chest at Merlin’s expression. So free, so familiar, so happy. Arthur missed that look.
The second he made it to Gwaine they jumped around together and cheered at their easily executed ruse. “He gave me money!” Merlin exclaimed, holding up a few coins toward Gwaine who squeaked out a disbelieving noise.
“How on earth did you manage that!?” Unsurprisingly, Gwaine immediately started counting the coins, still smiling in an alarmingly pleased way.
Merlin shrugged his small shoulders, smirk just as pleased but curving sly in a way Gwaine could never quite achieve. “Went off about my sick mother. I think he gave it to me mostly just to get me away from him.”
That was when Merlin finally noticed Arthur’s presence and suddenly the carefree air around them became heavy. Those horrible eyes widened in trepidation, freezing over with ice. Merlin took a tiny step back, scared to even be close to Arthur anymore. The same unshakable cold crawled through Arthur’s veins, disappointed and shameful and agonizing. It hurt impossibly too much to be the cause of this amount of distress for someone so important to him.
Pointedly ignoring the unrelenting stabs in his heart, Arthur clasped his hands behind his back and raised his chin. “As a king I cannot condone this behavior.” The seas of fear in Merlin’s eyes raged even higher. Arthur had to suppress the woeful flinch that automatically came to him. “That being said,” he trailed off, turning his head up so he wouldn’t have to look into those wounded eyes anymore. “...I can’t say I’m not pleased that I won’t have to sit through Lord Harrion’s condescending remarks all council.”
Gwaine sent him a look and Arthur couldn’t help the devilish grin that just ghosted his lips. It was true that Harrion was a particular pain in his neck and Arthur was usually more than happy to let those close to him know that, especially Gwaine and Merlin. That didn’t mean it was smart to encourage them though. If you give Gwaine an ounce, he’ll take a gallon.
The mischievous expression grew on Gwaine’s face- confirming Arthur’s suspicions- and Merlin stared back with a subdued smile. “Told you he deserved it,” Gwaine teased.
It brought Arthur’s attention hesitantly back to the boy, heart losing its rhythm once their eyes met. Because finally- finally- Arthur could see some of that venomous fear drip away, replaced by a perplexed kind of curiosity. Still too bitter, still too far from the sweet comfortability they used to share. But something Arthur could take. Maybe, if fate decided to swing in his favor, Arthur could have just a little bit of that warmth back in his life too.
“We’d be happy to take him down a peg or two more?” Gwaine’s voice lilted out, smirk verging on evil. “I’ve got a few more ideas we could try out.” Merlin turned away from Arthur again, but his humor had already faded, instead stuck in questioning disbelief. He couldn’t share in Gwaine’s happiness with Arthur so near.
Some of the ice chilled his blood again and Arthur had to remind himself that this was actually still a victory. “Don’t push your luck, Gwaine. Remember I still have the power to send you to the stocks,” he muttered through the frost, faux authority in his voice. At least, he hoped it was seen as fake. He couldn’t handle Merlin going back to being scared of him. Not when he had just made progress on ridding it.
Gwaine let out a breathy, sarcastic laugh. “Please. You haven’t done that in ages.”
“And I suggest you don’t give me reason to start it up again.” Just then there was a yell from the steps of the castle, a serving boy Arthur recognized from council running up to them. “Shit,” he mumbled, immediately sinking in disappointment. “Guess I won’t be avoiding the council meeting any longer,” he sighed, mostly to himself. He sent a heated glare Gwaine’s way when he quickly stepped behind the corner out of the serving boy’s eyeline. Without a lapse in his steps Gwaine put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder and started walking in the opposite direction. Arthur squeaked out a disbelieving noise, waving his hands a bit in exacerbation. “You’re supposed to be at this meeting too, Gwaine!” he hissed quietly.
“I’m sure you’ll find an excuse for me,” he responded, not even turning fully to address Arthur, his king.
Arthur breathed a frustrated groan through his teeth. “Stocks, Gwaine!” he warned before they could get too far away.
“Yeah, yeah.” Gwaine waved his hand dismissively. “See you, princess,” he called with too much mirth for Arthur’s liking. He was really contemplating how uncouth it would be to send a high knight to an evening in the stocks. As King, he was given the right to decide that, wasn’t he?
Before the boy- Edward, now that he was close enough to see properly- reached him, Arthur only just heard Gwaine’s voice lilting over the chatter of the courtyard. “Now that we have some money, why don’t I introduce you to the wonderful world of gambling.” His head whipped over to the retreating pair, eyes wide with concern. That definitely wasn’t going to end well. But Edward was already before him, curled over with labored breaths. Only years of the forced propriety of high society allowed him to suppress his childish grumbling just behind his teeth. This would just be another one of Gwaine’s messes he had to clean after the fact rather than actually stop.
* * *
The next couple days Arthur’s steps felt lighter. Council had become less boring, if for nothing than the haunted look in Lord Harrion’s eyes for most of it. Arthur had even egged him on just a bit that morning, making some harmless joke about bastards. It was completely worth it to see the color drain from his face, even if the comments were out of his character.
He’d also been paying more attention to the whispers in the castle. It still hurt sometimes, hearing what Merlin was doing without him, but mostly Arthur was comforted to see that even though this wasn’t the Merlin he knew, it was still Merlin. There were stories about him picking flowers for some of the serving girls, or Cook being mad at him for stealing pastries, or knocking down all the swords in the armoury because of his clumsiness. Arthur couldn’t help but smile. It was almost like his Merlin was still there, just out of his sight.
Arthur heard Merlin’s name called by one of the stable hands and immediately gravitated toward it. However, when he turned the corner, he found that the men were actually speaking to Merlin rather than about him. They continued past Arthur leisurely, sending him small smiles and respectful bows. Arthur nodded in response, but found it hard to take his eyes off the boy just a few feet away from him.
Merlin was sat in a less used corridor, staring out the window with a crinkle in his brow and a pout on his lips. He even had his arms crossed in front of him childishly. Arthur was already walking up to him before he realized it. “And why are you here sulking all alone?” Arthur asked, stepping fully into Merlin’s view. He jumped a bit at his voice, a reflexive fear tensing his muscles. But Merlin quickly went back to his brooding expression, only tainted by his distrust marginally.
“I’m not sulking,” he muttered, tone not at all convincing. Merlin turned his gaze to the window again, eyes slotted in annoyance. Arthur couldn’t help but smile.
“Oh, yes, of course. I apologize,” he chirped with a sarcastic politeness, gaze looking out at the city just as Merlin.
Merlin’s eyes turned up to him again, stunned at his teasing tone. Arthur could only smirk down at him. It was rare that he could render Merlin speechless. Good to know it was easier in this younger form. His features went from surprise to suspicion slowly, not totally as open as Arthur’s but close enough it brought a strange comfort to the air around them. “It wasn’t my fault.” Arthur hummed in understanding, satiric, playful. “It’s true! Gaius kicked me out just cause I spilled a few books from the shelf.”
Knowing Merlin, it was most definitely more than just a few. Arthur chuckled meaningfully, not needing to voice these sentiments. Merlin probably knew just as well as him he was downplaying the mess he must have made.
He grumbled out a string of complaints and crossed his arms even tighter, shoulders rising in indignation. “Not fair,” Arthur caught some of his quiet words eventually. “Just wanted the stupid magic creatures book.” Merlin continued to whine a bit more, going off on too tall shelves and unstable ladders.
After only a moment, Arthur made his mind up. “The magical bestiary, right?” he asked, jolting Merlin from his yammering. There was no response to his question, but the way Merlin’s eyes lit up was answer enough. Arthur hummed again, eyes moving to look through the window. “I have one in my personal library? If you’d like to take a look?”
It felt like the sun had suddenly moved into the castle. Merlin smiled so wide Arthur didn’t know how his cheeks didn’t stretch off his face. It was full of glee and excitement and something that was just inherently Merlin. And all of that was finally directed right at him.
After a few beats, Merlin’s eyes turned suspicious again and he tilted his head with a glare. “Really? You’d let me read it?” Arthur almost laughed at his doubt. It just looked so strange on such a small boy, like he had many more years than his childish body suggested.
“As long as you don’t knock down my bookshelf, yes.” Arthur said it in a strong voice, but made sure to smile affectionately to the boy. He had to be careful, not give him any reason to confirm his fearful suspicions. Arthur didn’t know if he could handle that overwhelming terror again.
“It wasn’t my fault!” he said again, jumping up from his perch on the windowsill. Instead of replying Arthur started the walk to his chambers without looking back. In just a couple seconds Merlin was next to him, walking in stride. A smile came to his lips before he realized it. Only Merlin was bold enough to walk so casually with the King, regardless of age it looked like.
“You forget you’ve been my manservant for years, Merlin,” Arthur remarked, still not looking down at the boy. “I know just how much of a mess you can make, child or not.”
Merlin looked like he wanted to protest, to tell Arthur just what he thought of that with some of his best childish grumblings. However, just as he opened his mouth someone called out to him from around the corner. Merlin turned, a sudden sunny smile taking over his features. “Catie!” he chirped as the girl ran up to him. Arthur vaguely recognized her. One of the newer kitchen girls, he thought.
She knelt down beside him and pulled a carefully wrapped cloth from her dress. “I swiped you a lemon cake from the kitchens,” she said, folding the corners away from the sweet smelling treat. The two shared a toothy smile, Merlin lighting up in delight.
Once she handed it over she stood straight, finally noticing Arthur. Immediately her demeanor changed. A stiffness sank into her bones and horror took up her features. Arthur always hated that expression. “Your majesty.” She whipped her head down, giving him a stilted curtsy. “I-I’m so sorry, sire,” she stuttered out. “I promise- I’ll pay for it. You can take it out of my wages.”
The girl tried to go on with her nervous rambling, but Arthur simply held a hand up placatingly. He smiled sweetly to her once she’d stopped. “No matter,” he said with a gentle tone. “I was a child in this castle once, too. Believe me, I have stolen plenty of lemon cakes in my time.” The look of relief on her face made Arthur’s smile soften even more. It was always nice once new staff realized he wasn’t his father, expecting that unflinching superiority over his subjects.
“Thank you, sire.” The surprise on her face matched Merlin’s. Though, hers was much more pleased while Merlin was still stuck in his weird kind of suspicion. Arthur was getting used to those narrowed eyes that bored into him like they were trying to read something no one else could see.
Arthur smiled softly, trying to ignore the unease in his stomach from Merlin’s doubt. “Just don’t mention my name,” he turned again to Catie with a calm but teasing voice. “I know how strict Cook can be, and I also know someone already got in trouble with her this morning.” Arthur flicked his head toward Merlin with a cocky smile. Catie laughed, surprised, features relaxing even more with Arthur’s casual tone.
Merlin just huffed and sent Arthur a glare in response. “I wouldn’t have gotten caught if Lancelot was better at lying,” he grumbled. They both laughed at that, something Merlin did not seem particularly pleased by.
“If you’ll excuse us, Catie,” Arthur said with a respectful nod her way. She returned it in kind, much steadier than her previous bow. As he turned away he saw her wave sweetly, Merlin responding with his own wide smile. It made Arthur smile as well, though he made sure neither of them saw the overly fond look.
Once back on their path, he and Merlin returned to their usual quasi-peace. After a few steps Arthur spoke again, quirking an eyebrow at Merlin’s exaggerated grin. “Are you bribing my staff?” he asked casually.
Merlin shrugged again, something Arthur was now noticing as a habit of his. “I’m just nice to them.”
“No, you just act nice to them.” Once he’d said it, Arthur felt his lungs collapse. There was too much of their usual cheek in the comment. For a moment, he had forgotten that he wasn’t allowed to do that anymore. At least, not without dragging them back to the nothingness of before.
However, Merlin took it in stride, smiling arrogantly and tilting his head a bit when he answered. “That’s not bribing.”
A surprised laugh flew from Arthur’s mouth before he could help it. Apparently his increased banter didn’t stop Merlin. Arthur didn’t know if he was impressed at Merlin’s bravery or if he was finally able to convince the boy he wasn’t something to run from. “Only you, Merlin,” he muttered through amused breaths. He didn’t realize how good it would feel to be able to say those words again, feel this way again.
For the rest of their walk Merlin remained silent. Instead, he stared up at Arthur with a curious expression, obviously lost in thought. At least it was better than the fear he used to get at least. When they were only a corridor away, Merlin broke their silence again. “You remembered her name,” he noted like it was as insignificant as the weather.
Arthur sent him a look full of the same curiosity. “I did, yes.” He wasn’t given anymore information on what exactly Merlin was thinking, him only humming in reply.
Soon they made it to his chambers, Arthur holding open the door for Merlin to walk through. The second he saw it, his eyes rounded in wonder. Arthur couldn’t help but smile. Honestly, he didn’t think his chambers were anything lavish. He’d never cared too much for decorum unlike many other nobles in Camelot. Not to mention he’d never seen Merlin look at it in awe, even when he’d seen them the first time.
After a moment of Merlin quelling his fascination, Arthur finally moved from his spot on the wall. “Come on,” he said, waving Merlin over to the other room with his collection of books. Once again, Merlin was stuck staring at the shelf with wide eyes. Arthur almost laughed. It wasn’t actually that impressive. Gaius had at least triple the books in his personal library, probably more. But Merlin’s eyes flickered through the spines, probably making a list of which ones he wanted to read in the future.
Arthur picked out a couple books for him, not sure exactly which one he’d been wanting from Gaius. He had to turn around so Merlin didn’t see his dopey smile when his face lit up, hands wrapping around the book in delight. When he turned back, Arthur couldn’t help but remember the day of this had started with all of them packed into the physician chambers.
“Alright,” Arthur said, gesturing for Merlin to follow him to the other room again. He went to his desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment and quill, remembering Merlin on that first day scribbling away in Gaius’ chambers. He couldn’t help the way his eyes softened at Merlin’s shocked and excited expression. Without any more talk, Arthur sat at the desk and went to finish up some paperwork that’d been piling up. It was a bit concerning how much he relied on Merlin for this kind of stuff. An unreasonable part of him was praying that he wouldn’t have to give a speech before Merlin went back to normal.
After a few seconds of silence Arthur looked up to Merlin questioningly. He shuffled a little awkwardly on his feet, not meeting his eyes. “Do I just read it here? Gaius kicked me out…” he trailed off shyly. Arthur couldn’t help the overwhelming warmth that bloomed in his chest.
“Yeah,” he said, voice too little to seem unaffected. “Yeah, you can read it here.” The smile Merlin gave him then lit the fire even hotter. Absently, Arthur wondered if he should go see Gaius about the concerning feeling.
Instead of sitting on the other side of his desk, like he had so often done in the past, Merlin’s head shot over to Arthur’s bed. Instantly, he stumbled, quill and ink shifting precariously at his effort as he climbed onto the bed. “Hey!” Arthur called, leaning back in his chair. Merlin didn’t even stop, settling in nicely against the headboard. “What are you doing?”
Merlin didn’t respond, instead raising his shoulders in that habitual shrug again without looking back at Arthur. Oh, that was definitely going to become a problem if it persisted. “I like it over here.” He hadn’t even stopped moving, instead setting everything up for his little study session Arthur had apparently gotten roped into.
Defeated, Arthur huffed and went back to his papers. Unfortunately for the large pile of papers on his desk, he was often interrupted from his thoughts by Merlin calling out to him. Arthur knew that Merlin already knew how to read when he came to Camelot, but he was impressed that he’d learned it this young. However, there were still plenty of things he didn’t know, too often asking Arthur what certain things were without any regard for his own work.
Sighing, Arthur walked over to the bed again to look at the words that Merlin didn’t know yet. At his annoyed expression, Merlin finally reacted. His expression was blank, but Arthur knew him well enough to see the vague concern behind his eyes, see the easy mask of nonchalance he wore so convincingly. “It’s better over here,” he muttered once again looking down at his book.
“What?” Arthur asked with knitted brows. Merlin shrugged in response, but this one seemed more shy than any of the others. He didn’t say anything more, trying to look like he was much more invested in his reading than he let on. A wry smile drifted onto Arthur’s lips. “Do you want me to sit over here?” Another nervous shrug. The tiniest blush came to Merlin’s face and Arthur knew he had no chance but to comply, not when facing that endearing expression.
With a dramatic sigh, Arthur walked back over to his desk and grabbed a few things he’d been working on. As he was trying to keep everything balanced to sit on the bed, Merlin suddenly jumped up, almost making him drop the books in his hand, “Wait!” Arthur sent a glare his way that Merlin didn’t meet. “Close the curtains,” he said with a point up to the top of the bed, precariously standing on the soft blankets. Arthur flicked his eyes between the curtains and Merlin’s unconcerned face.
“What? No!” Why in the world would Merlin want him to do that? What would that change in his ability to read? Actually, it would probably just make it harder. “It’ll be too dark to read,” he stated strongly, finishing his climb onto the bed.
Unfortunately, Merlin plainly ignored his protests and crawled down. He stalked over to the candle on his table, still burning bright. When he grabbed it, Arthur’s eyes hardened. “No.” Once again, Merlin ignored him, carefully walking back over to the bed. Face full of disbelief, Arthur watched the boy stumble up to the bed and start to place the candle on the book he wasn’t currently going through.
Arthur groaned and took the candle from him forcefully. The ruffled glare Merlin sent him almost made him blow out the candle in frustration. But it was always hard for him to deny Merlin anything, especially now in this childhood form. “You are just as insolent as I remember,” Arthur muttered, grabbing another pile of books from his table.
When he continued to hold the candle in his hands Merlin’s disgruntled expression changed to curiosity. Carefully, Arthur put together a little platform for the candle to sit on, trying to make it as Merlin-proof as possible which was never an easy task. Once he deemed it mostly fit, he put the candle on the books gently. “I swear to the gods, Merlin, if you knock this over,” he grumbled, climbing onto the bed with an eye always on the flame.
Merlin’s pleased face didn’t even move in his direction as he protested. “I won’t,” he said with far too much cheer to be believable.
Arthur sent him a knowing glance. “I know how clumsy you are, Merlin.”
He shrugged- those incessant shoulders- but the smile on his lips grew. “Maybe I’m just always tired from having to serve you all the time.” Arthur halted his movements, surprise sitting on his skin. It was so like the Merlin he remembered. All the other times he’d seen a hint of it, but it was always tainted by that sickening fear. Somehow, some way, it had finally all drifted away.
For the next long while they stayed on that bed, curtains drawn and candlelight flickering between them. It definitely was not the easiest to work in, light much too inconsistent. But Arthur didn’t mind. It was nice there on the bed, comfortable and peaceful. With his back against the fluffed pillows and Merlin scribbling away at his spot by Arthur’s legs, he felt more at home than he had in a long time.
Arthur wondered when he had started thinking of Merlin as his home. They’d been together for a long time now, side-by-side like they had no other choice but to be stuck there. Arthur wouldn’t have it any other way. As infrequently he let himself admit it, Merlin had become his family. Second only to Gwen and even that was honestly a toss-up. He never realized how heartbreaking it would be to lose that, even in the small way he had. He never realized how incredible it would feel to get it back.
After a long while sat like that, quills scratching over paper and pages flipping, Merlin spoke finally. It was the first time he had made conversation, other than when he would interrupt Arthur with his endless questions. “You don’t seem like a king,” he remarked casually.
Arthur lowered the scroll he’d been reading onto his lap, curious and maybe a little offended. “Why not?” Hopefully that didn’t sound as childish as it seemed in his head. Actually, maybe Merlin was on to something.
His shoulders came up in that noncommittal shrug again, making the irritation rise just a bit in Arthur’s mind. “You don’t sound like a king, for one.” Merlin always had the natural talent to make it rise even higher though, even with just a single sentence.
He thumped the scroll down and raised his eyebrows, mildly affronted. Strangely, this was the comment that irked him the most. Arthur was too used to Merlin always giving him that unconditional loyalty, his undying belief in Arthur and the kind of king he was. “And pray tell, Merlin, how is a king supposed to sound?”
Those goddamned shoulders. Arthur almost wanted to throw something at him, but he couldn’t really do that to a child, could he? “I don’t know,” he muttered, thinking for a moment. “Strong. Powerful.” Suddenly Merlin sat up straight, puffing his chest out and pinching his face into a rugged scowl. His voice boomed out around them, young voice pitched low and hard. “My name is Arthur Pendragon,” he imitated, theatrical and exaggerated.
Arthur couldn’t help the amused snort at his antics. The amount of cheek in this kid, seriously. “Wrong,” Arthur eventually stated, pulling the scroll back into his hands and pointedly not looking at Merlin. “A king doesn’t have to say his name, the people would already know who they are.”
Merlin smiled a bit, the teasing gleam in his eyes only spelling trouble for Arthur. “A good king doesn’t,” he muttered under his breath, obviously still intending for Arthur to hear him. Unfortunately, Arthur couldn’t find it in him to be too offended at the insult. Not with how free the comment had sounded. However he’d learned long ago it was never good to let Merlin get the upper hand on him.
“The only reason I don’t ‘sound like a king’ is because I have to put up with all your insolence,” he said in a strong but easy tone, praying that the exaggerated displeasure in his voice didn’t shine too brightly.
The smile only grew on Merlin’s face and Arthur knew he was about to lose this battle. Over the years, he’d acquired a sixth sense for when Merlin was going to be particularly disrespectful. With that gloating curve still on his lips he responded again, head tilting a bit in his direction, “A good king wouldn’t put up with that either.”
Despite himself, Arthur let out an unexpected chuckle. Even this young, Merlin was still just as good at shooting back the banter. The strange happiness drifted back into him. Who knew how much he would miss being relentlessly insulted. No one had been able to push his buttons like Merlin, and at some point he’d started finding it comforting more than anything else. That realization should have been cause for concern, but mostly Arthur just felt relieved to have it back in his life.
Arthur couldn’t tell you how long they stayed like that, relaxed in their work. It was the most at peace he’d felt since this whole thing started. Maybe even some time before that. Arthur could have stayed there forever, quietly working, joking when Merlin decided to tease him again. Unfortunately, much too soon, he was jolted out of his peace by a sharp knock on the door.
Arthur stood from his spot, only barely catching the candle when it tilted with his movement. With a swear, he stumbled from the bed almost getting caught in the curtains when he opened them. He made sure to send his most intense glare when Merlin laughed at his graceless flailing.
When he opened the door Arthur was suddenly face-to-face with an out of breath Gwaine. He raised his eyebrow in question. “Have you seen the kid?” he asked on uneven breaths. “I lost him ages ago, been looking all over.”
For a brief moment Arthur stood unmoving, not knowing exactly what to say. Instead of answering, he simply took a step to his side putting the bed into clear view. Merlin was sat there, leaning in a bit to see the door clearly. When he saw who it was another bright smile crossed his face and he waved his hand enthusiastically. Gwaine, on the other hand, widened his eyes and peered back at Arthur with blatant surprise.
In the blink of an eye, his shocked expression slid into a taunting kind of grin. Arthur had to hide the flush on his face with a dramatic roll of his eyes. Ignoring Gwaine’s heightened mood, Arthur turned and stalked back to Merlin on the bed. “Sorry,” he said, closer to his kingly voice than he had been using on Merlin. “He bullied me into closing the curtains. Lost track of time, didn’t realize how late it was.” Arthur had to try and sound unaffected, but he knew Gwaine would see right through him. In fact, Gwaine might be the only person brave enough to berate him about this later, as unlucky as it was.
Thankfully, he wasn’t given any room to talk as Merlin shuffled awkwardly on the bed, grunting as he made his way to the edge. At one of his particularly graceless movements Merlin knocked around some books and the candle started to fall. Arthur rushed to grab it, flame only just missing the pages below it.
“Gods, Merlin!” he grumbled, righting everything on the bed again. “What did I tell you?”
Merlin didn’t even falter his movements, sparing Arthur only a glance before jumping off the bed fully. “You caught it,” he muttered without a care. The disbelieving glare Arthur sent to him never caught, Merlin instead turning fully to Gwaine. “Is Lancelot back from patrol yet?”
“Yep,” Gwaine said cheerfully, ruffling Merlin’s hair once he was close enough. He swatted away his hands lazily, probably used to the act by now. “Been back for hours, but someone was off hiding in the King’s chambers.” With his last words Gwaine smirked up at Arthur, clearly trying to embarrass him as predicted. It was a wonder why Arthur had lifted his banishment in times like these.
Merlin didn’t notice their silent bickering and instead ran back toward Arthur where he was grumpily swiping the crumbs from Merlin’s lemon cake off the bed. He clumsily piled his books together, shoving the parchment roughly in between their pages. Absently, Arthur hoped the ink had fully dried on the page. Knowing Merlin, probably not.
With stumbling steps, Merlin ran up to Arthur’s desk and unceremoniously dumped everything there. Arthur didn’t even hide his groan at the action. But Merlin didn’t address it, continuing his run over to Gwaine in the doorway. Just as he made it there, he called out behind him. “Night, Arthur!”
Something bright and wonderful pooled into Arthur’s stomach. It was the first time he’d said his name. So naturally. And there was nothing else to taint it. No fear, no suspicion, not even the strange politeness that sometimes laced his tone. It was nothing but the unwavering sincerity Merlin was never afraid to show. For a moment, Arthur could imagine it was his Merlin that had said it. For a moment, he didn’t really mind that it wasn’t.
“Goodnight, Merlin,” he mumbled, looking at his fading figure still rounding the corner. His eyes flicked up and caught Gwaine’s. Immediately, a considerable heat warmed his cheeks. Gwaine was looking at him with that wolf grin again, saying without words everything he thought about their little study session. Even with the awkward shyness in his veins, Arthur glared tensely back, hoping for the life of him this would not be used against him.
Surprisingly, Gwaine conceded easily, turning toward where Merlin had started walking. Just before he was out of sight, he faced Arthur again, faux deference on his face. “Goodnight, my lord,” he said with an exaggerated bow, ducking around the corner as soon as he’d done it to avoid Arthur’s wrath. Then he was gone, door closed between them, finally leaving Arthur to deal with the confusing swirling in his head all alone.
Notes:
ayyyyy. okay sorry this took forever. I think this is just gonna be a short and sweet one with one more chapter, maybe two? Okay more than likely two unless it's a long ass chapter. Anyway, I'll try to be back quicker this time. The next part is literally just like all them hanging out so it should be fun <3
Chapter 3
Notes:
alright, so when i started writing the rest of this i realized i had a section that just didn't mesh well with the feelings i wanted for either of the other chapters. so, i thought i would just add it as its own chapter even though it's pretty short. consider it an interlude lol. It's honestly like a single scene but I still really like it so I couldn't just get rid of it. also get ready for a kind of random character addition lol
TLDR: super short chapter, sorry ya'll
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Gods. Merlin!” Arthur yelled, grabbing the boy by the scruff of his neck and pulling him back from where he’d almost tumbled down the stairs. The little idiot hadn’t even been paying attention, instead turning his head down every hallway with no regard for where his feet planted. It was incredibly lucky Arthur had been there, having just returned from an early dinner with Gwen. Regardless of any attempts at indifference, she had noticed his improved mood immediately and when Arthur hesitantly told her about his and Merlin’s meeting the night before, she had been nothing but overjoyed. Arthur couldn’t help but share her relief, embarrassed as he may be.
And now, not but a few minutes after Gwen had teased him about an end to his alleged moping, Arthur was back with the person he’d been missing for so long. Not that he was particularly happy with the boy at the moment. “What were you thinking? Actually, no, don’t answer that. Obviously you weren’t thinking, as per usual.”
Merlin glared up at him and twisted out of the grip on the back of his shirt. “I was distracted,” he mumbled. That familiar wave of annoyance at his carelessness was strangely comforting to Arthur. Still, he rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips.
“Yes, I can see that.” It was a classic Merlin move to state the obvious and act like it was an answer. “It is a wonder you haven’t fallen down a well or something at this point.”
Merlin huffed and patted down his shirt from where it had ridden up. “Wells are easy, I get water all the time. Stairs are the weird ones.” Arthur’s eyes widened a bit in understanding. It did make sense, Merlin had very little reason to use stairs in his small village. Especially ones this long and this rock hard.
And yet, it was just another non-answer. “It is a fairly simple concept, Merlin. I would think even someone as daft as you could figure it out.”
Suddenly, cold eyes were on his, narrow and irritated. “Are you this mean to everyone?” he asked, sharpness in his tone. For a moment, Arthur’s blood ran cold. He’d gone too far. In the commotion, he’d forgotten just who he was talking to and now Arthur would lose him again.
But, in spite of the rising panic, Merlin just kept that heated glare on him. No fear, no distrust, just his regular insolence and chagrin. Arthur almost smiled despite himself. Just like the first time they had met, the moment Merlin was familiar with him at all, he wouldn’t hold anything back. Even if Arthur was the most powerful man in the kingdom.
“No one can get under my skin like you can Merlin,” Arthur sighed, trying his hardest to keep the happiness out of his voice. It didn’t seem like it worked too well and Merlin’s scowl turned mischievous. Before he could say whatever insult was likely to come out of his mouth Arthur continued. “What are you even doing here?” It was a part of the castle that saw less traffic, mostly just servants on the way to the royal chambers.
Merlin’s shoulders suddenly rose and he buried his face down a bit like he was trying to hide. When he spoke his voice was quiet, sheepish. “I couldn’t remember where your rooms were.”
Arthur stood a bit straighter, eyes widening in surprise. “Were you looking for me?” With the way Merlin had evaded him for so long, Arthur would have never thought he’d be the one to seek out their company.
“No. Maybe,” Merlin said petulantly, not giving Arthur even a hint of his gaze. “Yes,” he grumbled, very reluctant in his answer. This time Arthur couldn’t help the fond smile that stretched on his lips. He might not ever admit it to anyone- was denying it pretty well to himself- but this young Merlin was nothing but endearing and, honestly, cute.
“Your book is still on my desk,” Arthur stated and suddenly Merlin’s eyes were locked with his, full of a grudging wonder. “Illegible notes shoved in the pages and everything.” With that, Arthur turned and continued down the path he’d been on before Merlin’s interruption.
After just a moment the thump of hurried steps rang behind him and Merlin was again at his side. “It’s not inlegible,” he complained once they were in stride.
“Il-legible,” Arthur emphasized with a teasing smile ghosting his face. “Obviously, you see my point.”
Merlin’s fiery glare burned into Arthur, hot on his skin even though Arthur couldn’t quite see his eyes. “Are you always this much of a prat?” The way he said it, all petulant and carefree, it brought Arthur right back to the beginning. He could almost feel the piercing stare from that peasant boy that mocked him in the market. Who knew how much he would treasure something that should have only brought him contempt.
“Judging by how much you love to tell me at every chance you get,” Arthur started, pushing the door to his chambers open, “I would say yes.” Merlin’s bubbly laugh when he entered the room echoed, bringing a warmth to the space that had been missing for too long. Suddenly, the cold stone walls didn’t feel so imposing anymore.
The two ended up in the same position as the night before, though Arthur insisted the curtains be only partially closed to avoid another candle incident. Merlin grumbled a bit, but Arthur knew he was happy when the sun fell and he could stare out at the changing pinks and oranges. It bathed the room in a sweet peace that Arthur wasn’t sure was from the sun’s rays or the more radiant smile on Merlin’s face.
When the sun had dipped low enough, George came into the room to light candles and prepare for the end of the day. After addressing Arthur his eyes drifted over to Merlin’s form hunched over on the bed, without a hint of surprise. Even though George was never anything but hauntingly professional, Arthur knew there was a calculating side behind the stoic mask. George always seemed to know the goings on of the entire castle at all times. Not the gossip like Merlin would rattle off to him sometimes, though he knew those too, but more just for the knowledge of it. The safety. As reassuring as that was sometimes, Arthur found he was still a bit unsettled by the ability.
After all the appropriate candles were lit, George walked up to a bunched up sheet on the floor and Arthur winced. The crisp white of the sheet was stained with a giant splotch of black ink. Of course, because the boy had no ability to use his brain for once, Merlin had spilled an entire bottle in the middle of his bed. It would have been fine if it was just the two of them, but now someone else had to see the damage of Arthur giving in to Merlin’s childish whimsies.
“Yes,” Arthur stuttered once George reached down to the cloth, “Merlin seemed to have a bit of an accident. I apologize, George. You may throw it out if necessary.” With a nod his way, Arthur turned back to the report he was reading and tried to hide any emotions from showing on his face.
“Of course, sire.” George bowed his head and collected the rest of the laundry as well. In his wanderings he ended up right next to Merlin where Arthur had left his training shirt earlier. George looked up at the boy with the biggest smile Arthur had ever seen on his face, which, granted, was still almost nonexistent. “Hello, Merlin,” he greeted with a polite nod.
Merlin stared back at him, face blank in that way it was when questions were bouncing around in his head. “Hi,” he said charmingly, if not a little distracted. After a moment he leaned his head closer and caught George’s attention again. “Are you one of his other manservants?” he asked.
Clothes all gathered in his arms, George stood with the impassive look back on his face. “I take over when you are indisposed, yes,” he replied. Arthur barely suppressed a laugh. George jumped on any chance to do Merlin’s job, often having to hide his annoyance that the position was only ever temporary. Though Arthur had learned how to see the veiled frustration behind those blank eyes over the years. After all, Merlin had a habit of being indisposed.
But it all faded out when Merlin looked back up at him, genuine and innocent and true. “Thank you.” George’s eyes widened marginally and he nodded back with a hint of a smile. As he continued his work, Merlin’s eyes tracked him across the room. “Is it miserable?”
“Merlin,” Arthur warned, trying to smack the back of his head but the boy was too quick. He disregarded him anyway, the only response being a cheeky smile while he kept his eyes trained on George. Surprisingly, he shared in just a bit of Merlin’s humor.
“I am honored to do it,” he stated proudly. Arthur almost smiled at the sentiment. As cold as George presented himself, that was something he never tried to hide.
“Washing his socks and pouring his wine?” Merlin asked with a distasteful look on his face. This time Arthur finally got a solid hit on Merlin’s head, though it was still much softer than his glare would imply.
George laughed softly at their antics, something that Arthur wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard before. “I find it very rewarding,” he answered, finally piling the laundry all into a basket before meeting Merlin’s eyes again. “Even in only the small way I am able, I get to help the greatest king Camelot has ever known.”
There was a brightness to George’s words that brought an airy breath to Arthur’s throat. One might have known the honor George found in serving the King, but never had Arthur felt it like this before. It loosened a coil on Arthur’s heart that he hadn’t even known was there. That feeling of pure belief was something missing from his life without his Merlin beside him. But now he found it elsewhere. Knew it wasn’t something unique to the boy that was always attached to his hip, though no one could ever be as passionate as him.
After a breath, Merlin turned slowly, regarding Arthur like it was the first time he had really seen him. It burned in Arthur deep. Flicking his gaze away, he cleared his throat to stifle the uneasy atmosphere and sat up straighter against the headboard. “That will be all, George. Thank you, you are dismissed for the night.” Luckily, unlike another servant Arthur knew, George was respectful enough not to comment on the subtle blush that must’ve been on Arthur’s cheeks.
George bowed deep, reminding Arthur of his early morning training that he was already dreading waking up for. They said their goodnights and George started walking to the door, laundry in tow. Before he could walk through, Merlin called out to him as well, cheerful and kind in the way only Merlin could ever be. “Goodnight, George!”
He turned back to the boy, a startled but sweet smile on his face. “Goodnight, Merlin.” It seemed no one was immune to the endearing pull of Merlin in this childlike form. At this point, Arthur was worried he might be able to control the entire kingdom if he so chose to.
“He’s nice,” Merlin remarked once the door was closed and they were back to their solitude.
Arthur leaned back a bit with a smirk. “Strange to hear you say that with how much you complain about him in the future.” At Merlin’s questioning look Arthur continued on with a breathy laugh. “He’s been after your job since before you even got here.”
With a short hum Merlin turned his eyes down, cogs turning in his brain again. After a moment, he must have come to a conclusion, gathering up his things to focus on his studying again. “I guess I must find it rewarding too. If I’ve fought him off all these years.”
Something wonderful bloomed in Arthur’s chest. If he thought hearing praise from George was good, he was nowhere near prepared for that sweet innocent look on Merlin’s face. Arthur had to bring the report inches away from his face, trying to hide the stupid grin he couldn’t get off his lips. “If that were true, I believe my Merlin would have told me from time to time.” Arthur was honestly impressed by how much snark and how little delight he was able to get through in his tone.
“I probably don’t want your head getting bigger than it already is,” Merlin smirked, his special kind of distracted insolence that Arthur had become so familiar with over the years. Words he’d heard fall from similar lips time and time again.
Arthur ground his head back and let out a groan, making sure to keep the scroll in front of his face. Because, while Merlin was being a right brat, Arthur was ultimately more annoyed at himself for the unreasonable euphoria that came from those words. It seemed it was going to be much more difficult to hide his true feelings of happiness around this Merlin, regardless of what crass words he used.
Thankfully, Merlin went right back to being absorbed in his book. For the most part the kid wasn’t actually reading it. He would flip through pages, scanning pictures and words, and if something jumped out at him he would read every word on the thing probably three times over. When Arthur had gotten through a whole report and Merlin was still on the same page he peaked over to see what had caught his focus.
“We fought one of those, years back,” he noted, gesturing down to the picture of a griffin at the top of the page.
Merlin whipped his head up at him, excitement lighting his eyes. “Really!?”
Arthur couldn’t help the laugh from breaking through his lips. “Yes,” he said much more fondly than he really intended to. “You were there. Actually it was back when you first became my manservant.” Merlin stared down at the book again in wonder, reading the page like it was something new again. Arthur could almost see the scenes he was creating in his head, imagining the creature on the page being just within his reach. “In fact, that’s how we met Lancelot. He killed the beast.”
There was an awestruck grin on his face that must have been infectious, judging by its effect on Arthur. Then, after a moment more of looking at the page, Merlin’s eyebrows shifted down and he pursed his lips. “The book says it can only be killed by magic,” he wondered, looking up at Arthur with those earnest eyes.
“Well, we didn’t seem to have too much of a problem with it,” Arthur chuckled. Yet Merlin just cast his gaze down again, lost deep in a circle of questions again. “Most of these books are very old, Merlin, and rarely contain only truth.” Merlin stayed exactly where he was, still staring off into nothingness with shifting eyes. “What, you scared one might be lurking about in Camelot now?” he teased, irrationally wanting to gain the boy’s attention again.
“Scared to find it when I’m with you instead of Lancelot, maybe,” he immediately shot back, not even deterred from his thinking. Arthur’s affronted gasp finally got him to at least move his eyes up, sly smirk directed his way.
Just as Arthur started to speak, there was a soft rapping on the door and they were pulled from their little feud. Lancelot himself opened the door once Arthur responded, bowing respectfully as he walked in. “Good evening, sire,” he said before turning his gaze away from Arthur. “Merlin, I will be heading to bed if you’d like to come with me? Gaius will be awake for a while longer if you’d rather wait for him, though.”
Oh. Lancelot had come knowing Merlin would be there. It had gotten late again without their notice, and this time, everyone knew exactly who they were spending their time with. Not to mention Arthur had now twice made other people go out of their way to make sure the child actually went to sleep at a reasonable time. He’d have to pay more attention to that in the future.
“No, I’ll go with you,” Merlin called, very unceremoniously jumping from the bed. Once down he stayed there at its side, shifting a little awkwardly on his feet. Finally, after seeing Arthur’s confused but expectant expression, he huffed and asked in a shy voice, “Can I keep the book? Just for a while I promise! I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”
Arthur didn’t know if his heart could take it. Because this small, lovable boy was looking up at him with the most trusting expression he’d ever seen. Arthur knew he had Merlin’s trust, seen that look with adult features many times over, but there was something so guileless in those eyes. It meant something more for that perfect an expression to be given him from one so innocent, so pure.
“Yeah,” Arthur replied, voice coming out a little scratchy and quiet. He cleared his throat and sat back straighter against the bed. “Do not. Lose it,” he accused, sending Merlin a knowing glare.
Unfortunately, Merlin had either seen right through his act, or been too appreciative to care. And, instead of the playful insults he usually used in those times, his smile simply bloomed bright and wonderful. “Thank you, Arthur,” he said, quickly running around the bed so he could walk with Lancelot out of the room.
The second the door closed Arthur slumped down a bit, burying his face in his hands. He let out a frustrated groan. That boy was starting to have much too much influence over him. Once again, Arthur started wondering if this kid really might control the country soon if things kept progressing the way they did. Concerningly, Arthur found he didn’t have too big a problem with it.
Notes:
okay, sorry again. i know it's like barely anything but i already have most of the next chapter written out. hope you liked George's little cameo. no idea why this part even came to me, he's not a character i use often, but i thought it was too cute for even the most stoic man in the world to be endeared by that cute lil' boy <3
aight, hopefully i'll be back soon with more.
thx ily byyeeeee
Chapter 4
Notes:
Gwen chapter!! Gwen chapter!! Gwen chapter!!
lol, she's just best girl in this one. also Elyan. i feel like i never give that man enough enough time in my stories :/
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Arthur walked into Gaius’ chambers mostly out of boredom. There were still a couple more hours before he was supposed to meet Gwen for an afternoon picnic. Usually Arthur protested to wasting almost half the day not working on his ever increasing work, but he’d had a stressful week. And Gwen was the kind of girl to plan the whole thing and demand Arthur come because she knew he needed it. Arthur still hadn’t found out what he did to deserve her.
So, he put Leon in charge of the morning trainings, went to a more than frustrating counsel, and realized he had plenty of time before he had to leave and nothing to do with it. First he thought about watching the knights, but they would probably rope him into drills and he’d end up at the picnic bruised and sweaty. The stacks of reports should also be attended to. Arthur never got through enough when he was sitting with Merlin, but he’d already been putting that off and may as well continue. Then he saw the empty jar of salve for a cut he’d gotten a few days prior and decided Gaius’ seemed like the most enjoyable option.
When he walked into the room he found that Gaius wasn’t actually present, but Gwen and Elyan were sat with Merlin at the table. Beneath them was a spread of papers, all filled with different doodles and scribbles. Gwen was leaned over Merlin’s paper, smoothly drawing animals that were much cleaner than any of Merlin’s scrawlings. There were actually a few of those mismatched twins on the page, Merlin obviously trying to copy the art once she was done. Arthur honestly couldn’t tell what most of them were until he found the more polished version.
“Here to join us, Arthur,” Elyan drawled once he’d walked fully into the room. The other two in the room looked up, Gwen smiling sweetly and Merlin giving him an amused kind of smirk.
Arthur held up the empty bottle and walked closer to the trio. “I’m actually here for medical reasons, not playing hooky.” Elyan grinned at him, shifting a bit to show a small bandage on his shoulder that he must have gotten from training. Though it looked like it had been wrapped a while ago and Arthur raised his eyebrows purposefully, something which Elyan ignored.
Studying the papers more closely, Arthur could see Elyan’s hand in a few of them. Every once in a while he would find rude embellishments or funny faces added to Merlin’s already messy drawings. Arthur even found some of those old games that he used to play with Morgana when they were avoiding studying. He couldn’t help but smile at the memory, regardless of any of the discomforting thoughts that always swirled when thinking of her.
“Gaius isn’t here, but I can tell him once he’s back,” Merlin muttered distracted by a speech bubble drawn next to a very lumpy goat, irritably scribbling over the ‘Merlin stinks’ and crudely writing ‘ELYAN’ above it.
“If you even remember,” Arthur muttered, setting the jar down on an empty spot on the table. “I seem to recall you being too busy tricking nobles and knocking down bookshelves.”
Merlin glared up at him dramatically. “It wasn’t a bookshelf, it was a few books,” he grumbled, stare looking more like a pout than anything else. Arthur couldn’t help but smile back, triumphant.
When his eyes moved up he suddenly found both Gwen and Elyan gazing at him with a secretly bemused expression that always made them look so similar. Apparently that perceptive glint in their eyes was a family trait. Arthur thought having one pair of those clever eyes aimed at him was embarrassing, but having both elicited an impressively red blush on his cheeks.
Gwen snickered a bit as she stood, walking around the table toward Arthur. Once close enough, she rested a gentle hand on his arm and shared an affectionate smile with him. “I only have a few more things to finish up before midday,” she said, quiet and sweet in the way she always was with Arthur. He nodded his head subtly, mirroring the veiled fondness in her eyes.
They never were so outward with their romances. Of course, it wasn’t like it was hidden from anyone anymore. Maybe it was a habit they’d yet to break from their early days. Or maybe Gwen just preferred a more discreet display of public affections. Arthur liked to think it was because there was something special about the private world they shared just between the two of them, something secret and intimate and unguarded.
Arthur followed her with a fond gaze as she stepped out of the room. The caring look slid off his face once he noticed the cheeky smirks Elyan and Merlin were sharing. He schooled his expression and walked a little closer to the two, feigning disinterest.
“I like Gwen,” Merlin remarked, innocently looking back to the parchment, though Arthur could still see the playful look in his eyes. “I’m glad you are making her queen.”
Somehow, even more heat climbed onto Arthur’s cheeks. In fact, he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this embarrassed. He braved a glance at Elyan and immediately regretted it. His face was full of nothing by a sly kind of gratification which just made Arthur even more sheepish. Merlin might have been the instigator, but he was the captive audience.
Arthur sputtered around his words for a moment, thoughts too jumbled to get anything coherent out. It’s not like neither of them knew where their relationship was heading, but it wasn’t something they really talked about. It had been brought up, of course, but Arthur had never gone outright and said the word marriage. Arthur still had a hard time keeping his heart in check when Gwen glanced over at him with those loving eyes, it might just stop beating if she started waxing poetic about everything they would share together in the future.
Eventually calming his stutters, Arthur sighed and let out a shy voice. “She is an incredible woman.” That was all Arthur could say without embarrassing himself any further. Unfortunately, even that didn’t work. Merlin and Elyan stared at each other again, grinning devilish and satisfied.
After a moment, Elyan stood from his position and puffed out a dramatic sigh. He walked past Arthur on his way out of the room and clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “Good answer, Arthur,” he stated all confident and sly. It was a mood that Elyan was in fairly often, but rarely this immensely. And rarely did it ever go well for Arthur when it was.
Just before he made it through the door Elyan turned, wolf grin more sure on his face. “Hey, does this mean once you’re married I’m in line for the throne?” he asked with the kind of snark that he must have learned from Merlin, old or young.
Arthur crossed his arms and steeled his features, though he didn’t know how successful it was. “Even if that were true I’d still have the power to disinherit you, you know?” He’d tried to say it with all the unmoving grace of a king. Unfortunately, Elyan was already too familiar with Arthur and propriety was a thing he often found unnecessary.
Elyan suddenly put his hands together imploringly, eyes shining up theatrical and sarcastic. “Not if I beg my sweet, considerate sister the queen to ‘please let me stay with my family.’” He even jutted out his bottom lip, brows drawn high on his forehead, but nothing could hide the blatant amusement under his mask.
Annoyance heated his skin and Arthur made a halted step forward. Before he could say anything, Elyan was already gone, rushing through the castle to hide from Arthur’s retaliation. With a sigh, Arthur gave up and stalked over to Merlin. He hit him lightly on the back of his head again and Merlin narrowed his still teasing eyes. “Will you stop embarrassing me in front of every person in this castle?” He asked angrily, though most of that was to hide the swirling feelings he was still trying to push down.
“I was just saying my opinion,” Merlin said flippantly, bringing those disrespectful shoulders up again.
“Yes, well, your ‘opinions’ tend to be insults and mockery I’ve found,” Arthur complained as he noted all the different papers scattered across the table. “What are these?” he asked, gently pushing a parchment out of the way to find a letter filled with uneven words.
“Letters,” Merlin replied unhelpfully. At Arthur’s disapproving look a small smile graced his lips, but he kept his eyes down. “Percy said I should write stuff to send back home cause I can’t actually talk to them. Said I should act like they’re still from my time and they’d still appreciate it.” Merlin spoke the words casually, but Arthur could feel the joy that always seemed to surround the boy.
With a smile, Arthur pulled the finished letter out completely. The smile immediately dripped off his lips. There at the top of the page written in Merlin’s choppy handwriting were two words that stabbed into Arthur’s heart.
Dear Will.
A pit grew in Arthur’s stomach, deep and tormenting. There was a part of himself that felt a bit grateful that, at least for a moment, Merlin got to live in a world where he still had his best friend. Though, it was too hard to reach once Arthur continued to study the words.
I’m sure I already told you all this.
“Who else are you writing to?” Arthur quickly asked, trying to pull himself away from any unwanted feelings. He knew the pain would be occupying his mind again once he was alone in his chambers that night anyway.
“Just Mom,” he said cooly, thankfully not picking up on Arthur’s distress. “Don’t really have anyone else to talk to.”
Merlin continued to scribble away at his letter, too engrossed to spare Arthur another glance. “You should write one to yourself,” Arthur suddenly suggested, not really knowing the words would leave his mouth until they were already out. The amused but questioning look Merlin sent up to him looked just like Arthur remembered. “Old Merlin,” he clarified with a tired roll of his eyes. “I’m sure he’d like reading what you write, and I’m sure you have something to say to him.”
For a moment Merlin tilted his head and shifted his eyes, thinking the idea through. “Okay,” he muttered, shrugging easily. His hands went back to work, but Arthur saw he was focusing on drawing something in the corner of the page rather than actually writing anything. “And Gaius says I might not remember anything anyway.”
Strangely, his response brought with it a heavy disappointment that weighed down on Arthur’s chest. As painful as it was when Merlin had first woken up with that fearful stare, Arthur had grown to cherish these moments they had together. It would be embarrassing, and Merlin would find creative new ways to mock him for it in the future, but Arthur wouldn’t change a thing. There was something remarkable happening between them, something Arthur didn’t know if he could ever find again. He didn’t know if he could handle losing it.
Arthur cleared his throat and stood straight again, back to his usual regality. “I’m sure my Merlin would welcome it either way,” he said, irked by the stringiness to his voice that he couldn’t quite get rid of. Even though it was largely undetectable, Merlin must have heard enough of the struggle. His head turned up to Arthur with a tiny stitch in his brow, eyes again looking like they were reading Arthur’s thoughts. Apparently that was a trait that Merlin possessed even with their limited time together.
Once again, Arthur squared his shoulders and tried to mask any stubborn emotions on his features. It never quite worked when he was with Merlin. He turned a fragile glare down and started a slow walk to the door. “Do not,” he said, Merlin’s head flipping around to keep Arthur in his sight, “forget the salve, Merlin.” Arthur pointed his finger at the boy in warning.
Merlin didn’t rise to his bait. Instead, those curious and concerned eyes sliced through his icy heart with every step. Arthur gulped and turned fully, unease only slightly lessened. As he walked up to the door he heard Merlin readjusting in his seat and call out in a strangely worried voice. “I’ll see you later, Arthur.” He’d almost said it as a question, almost as a comfort. Arthur turned slightly, meeting Merlin’s eyes in a strange kind of appreciation and nodded his head slowly. The bright smile that stretched on Merlin’s face was the only thing that could extinguish some of the painful fires that rolled through his stomach.
* * *
Their meetings were standard now. Every day, right after dinner, Merlin would bound into his room without a knock and settle down on Arthur’s bed like he owned the place. He’d moved on from the bestiary and now read some of Gaius’ medicinal plant guides. The first time he brought it Arthur couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter. Such a strange thing for a child to find worthy of their attention.
When Merlin wasn’t picking through the medical book, he continued writing his letters. He’d already discarded three pages from the one for Hunith because he wanted to revise something. Or, Arthur would point out wrongly spelled words and Merlin would get so annoyed he’d crumple the paper because he knew Arthur hated it. It was stupid to tease the boy about them but often he just couldn’t hold back. Really, if they had to spend any extra money on new parchment, it would all be Arthur’s fault.
Strangely, Merlin had the most trouble on the one he was writing for himself. It surprised Arthur. He’d already heard many random comments from ‘young’ Merlin on what he thought of ‘old’ Merlin’s life. But for a very long while, Merlin sat there staring at a blank page, hand ready to ink but never finding the words. Arthur couldn’t help but steal flickering glances at the page, waiting to see what might start the show.
Eventually, he couldn’t take it any longer. Arthur, like most other annoyances in his life, blamed it on Merlin. His eyes couldn’t stay on his own parchment long enough to take in much of any words. It wasn’t even that Arthur was curious about words he wrote, necessarily. Honestly he just needed the boy to write anything down. Anything to mar that perfect paper and finally take Arthur out of the irrational anxiousness it brought him.
“What do you think of Camelot?” Arthur blurted out, unwilling to watch that blank page for the rest of the night.
Merlin peered up at him, clearly confused by this random choice of conversation, especially because they had been silent for most of their time together. “What?”
Arthur sighed, hands moving back to the top of the report that he would now have to start all over again. “You're trying to think of what to say to yourself,” he nodded down to the white page in Merlin’s fingers. “Don’t. Write like he’s someone new. He’s not you, he’s never experienced the things you are now. So,” he asked with a shrug, “what do you think of Camelot?”
For a moment, Merlin just gazed back at him with widened eyes. Not questions, but ideas were swimming around in his mind. Good. Now maybe he could start to fill in that infuriatingly pristine page.
Thankfully, graciously, Merlin brought the quill down and filled in the first few words. With a relieved breath Arthur focused again on his report, not even trying to suppress the pleased smile on his face.
“I like you,” Merlin muttered quietly. “I don’t know why old Merlin doesn’t trust you.”
Arthur dropped the parchment he was going through, not really feeling where it hit his legs. “What?” Arthur knew those goddamn shoulders were coming up before the word had fully left his mouth. Pushing down the annoyance was easy enough this time, too stuck on the unsettling words, words Arthur never thought would be uttered, said in such a carefree way. “What makes you think he doesn’t trust me?”
Parchment long forgotten, Arthur moved a fraction closer to the boy with stiffened muscles. Unfortunately, Merlin didn’t catch his eye, lifting those shoulders again sharply. “No,” Arthur said in anger. But it sounded much too desperate to be convincing, leaning alarmingly close to pleading. “Don’t just give me that incessant shrug, tell me.”
“I don’t know.” Merlin’s hands were flicking against the quill in his hand, the only sign of any unease stemming from the relentless pressure suffocating the room. That and his refusal to meet Arthur’s gaze. “You just don’t know everything yet.”
“What don’t I know?” Arthur leaned in close. He needed to know. Whatever this young Merlin thought, whatever he said, his voice rang with truth. The way he stayed hunched down but tried to keep his back straight, that was something Arthur had seen Merlin do many times. He regretted saying anything, maybe hadn’t even meant to in the first place. And now he was trying to act like they were of little consequence to get Arthur off his trail.
But the words weren’t insignificant. Not in the slightest. In fact, it might have been the most distressing thing Arthur had ever been told. And that was with his already very distressing life.
Arthur’s heart almost shattered when the only response was that unassuming shrug, panicked and rueful if you knew what signs to look for. Unfortunately, Arthur also remembered that gesture with a more mature body, and he knew that no matter what he did, there would be no answer to his question.
A groan stuttered through his teeth, but Arthur couldn’t quite make it sound like irritation. Too much disappointment and panic was still clouding his mind. Clouding everything around him, so heavy no amount of fire could ever burn it away. “I hate those contemptuous shoulders of yours,” he grumbled. “Almost makes me want to cut them off, but then you would only have your mouth to annoy me with and somehow that seems even worse.”
Arthur was grateful for the small smile Merlin gave him then, though he still couldn’t meet his eyes. “If I don’t do it so much in the future you must already have a lot of experience with my complaining.”
A tired groan flew through Arthur’s teeth. “You are infuriating.”
“So you’ve told me,” Merlin said, smile growing just a bit.
“You’re lucky I can’t put a child in the stocks.” Arthur huffed and picked up the parchment from where it rested dead on his lap. “I will just have to wait until old Merlin comes back.”
“That,” Merlin started, leaning back but still not offering his gaze, “sounds like a problem for him.”
It was their regular back-and-forth. Harsh words, but calm tones. This was how they always displayed their closeness, with insults and jibes and the underlying knowledge that it was always rooted in an overwhelming care.
But that warm affection wasn’t there this time. It was empty. Tainted. A bitter, choking venom that neither wanted to address but could never claw the taste from their mouths. And whatever it was, Arthur found it harder and harder to control the blatant hurt burning behind his eyes.
They didn’t really talk again after that. Every once in a while Merlin would ask another question or Arthur would tease him again, but any of their usual fire had frozen over with ice.
Arthur was almost thankful when Gwen knocked on the door to collect Merlin at the end of the night. Merlin had seemed relieved too, excited really. Apparently he would be going back to the forge to sleep with Gwen, rather than with any of the other’s in the castle. After that first night, Merlin always slept with another person close. It came from years of sleeping right next to Hunith in that cramped hut, someone always nearby in the dark hours of the night. It must be even more comforting in Gwen’s small house in Camelot’s lower town, so similar to the home still so fresh in Merlin’s mind.
When Merlin jumped off the bed with only the letters in his hands Arthur glared at his retreating form. “Hey!” Merlin met his eyes with an innocent expression, though he had to know it wasn’t really convincing anymore. Arthur pointed an accusing finger over to him. “I am tired of all your books cluttering up my rooms. Put them back.”
Merlin rolled his eyes dramatically, slumping down with a ruffled sigh. He bounced around the room quickly, stacking the random books he’d left around and scurrying around the corner to put them back in place along the bookshelf. The annoyed grumbling as he ran around brought a subdued smile to Arthur’s lips. But nothing could drown the demon the boy had now set loose in his mind.
Arthur started cleaning up as well, piling the small stack of reports he was able to get through. It wasn’t nearly enough, not with Arthur too focused on Merlin’s blank letter and then devastated by his later confession.
“He can sleep here, you know.” Gwen had walked up beside him without Arthur knowing. Distraction had definitely yet to leave him, and Gwen was always good at figuring out whatever Arthur was trying to hide. She gave him a sweet smile, concern stitched between her brows. “He’s here every night anyway.”
“No,” Arthur mumbled, turning back to collect everything on the bed. Maybe at some point, it could have happened. Arthur had thought about it at least, when every night someone else would take the boy back to their beds for a peaceful slumber. It didn’t sound so bad, having a warm body and a steady heartbeat next to him while he slept. One he could wrap up in his careful warmth and protection. But Arthur had very little experience with it over his years, and he had absolutely no idea how to even bring that up to a person let alone a child.
And now, he didn’t think he ever could. Not if Merlin didn’t trust him. Merlin could never feel safe around Arthur. He needed someone that could give him comfort in unconsciousness, not someone who he still kept his wary sights on. Suddenly images of Merlin’s terrified eyes flashed in Arthur’s head again. He must have never really lost that fear for Arthur. Just ignored it for a while because Arthur had given him a quiet place and books to read. Maybe his Merlin was just as good at hiding the terror.
“With all his gangly limbs stretching out in that bed? I think I’d kick him to the floor the second I felt one of those pointy elbows jab into me, child or not.” Honestly, it was pretty good acting on Arthur’s part. For some reason, it was always easier to mask when the torment was particularly harrowing.
But Gwen knew him too well. She had a talent for finding even the deepest of Arthur’s secrets. Guises never quite worked with her, and as unnerving as it was, Arthur was grateful there was someone who would confront him when he was too cowardly to do it himself.
Well.
Someone that trusted him at least.
Merlin came tumbling back into the room, messily grabbing his letters again and heading to the door. As he walked out of view, Arthur realized that he hadn’t said goodnight this time. Seems Merlin was just as tormented as he was by their night together.
With a small but knowing smile Gwen walked up to him and placed a caring kiss on his cheek. “I can see right through you, Arthur Pendragon.” Her words were soft and soothing, concern stubbornly wavering her voice at the edges. Even then, it easily lifted some of the harsh weight gripping Arthur’s heart. They shared one more soulful look, full of everything they never voiced but always knew, before Gwen turned back to the door and walked out.
The light she always brought with her faded quickly though, and within moments Arthur was back in those tortuous thoughts, swimming desperately. It made him feel weak. Like a child, left alone to sleep in a cold bed and no one’s hand to grasp if the night became too dark.
Notes:
hey, so you know how sometimes a whole idea will just come to you from a single random line? that line is finally in this chapter! It was just the 'i like you. don't know why old Merlin doesn't trust you.' the whole thing came from that one random scene like a flood dude, most of this should be credited to higher powers, i swear.
okay, anyway, remember when i said there would only be two more updates all the way back in chapter two? ~i lied~ after this there will definitely be one more, maybe another after that depending on whether or not I want to write a little epilogue of sorts.
one more random thing, i think Merlin would just keep shrugging because he knows the things he wants to avoid but sometimes doesn't have a way to talk himself out of it. of course, he learns how to do that pretty damn well when he's older lol
okay thanks for reading byyyeeeeee
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