Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Something about Merlin had always been…off. He lies as much as he breathes, but he’s honest with himself. 

So that’s why it’s really concerning no one has called him out yet, because he’s a TERRIBLE liar. 

You’d think with so much practice, a guy would get better at something that was literally keeping him alive. But no, when Arthur stomped up to Merlin demanding to know where his manservant had been all day, Merlin still stuttered and said, 

“I-uh, herbs for Gaius?” Honestly, Merlin had no clue what was going on in Arthur’s head. Esteemed knight, genius war strategist, crown prince of Camelot, and defended someone committing high treason in the heart of Camelot with his entire soul.

But then again, Uther had thanked Merlin for “being an ally in the fight against magic.” Guess it runs in the family? It had taken everything in Merlin to not collapse on the ground laughing in that moment, and that was when he just thought himself to be a sorcerer.

Now that Merlin knows he is magic incarnate, it’s even funnier. Uther literally told Merlin, “you’re very helpful in our hunt of you” and called it a day. 

There was something in Pendragon blood that drew them to Merlin. Arthur was Merlin’s best friend, he spent every waking minute away from Arthur with Morgana, and even though Uther would never admit it, Merlin was the king’s favorite servant. 

Guess they all liked his country boy charm! 

It was keeping him alive though, so he wouldn’t be looking a gift horse in the mouth. 

Merlin walked into the throne room leisurely, he assumed this was just another “Merlin can vouch for me!” Thing. 

Instead he was met with a fuming and red Arthur, huffing at an equally angry Uther. Merlin’s immediate thought was they found out he was magic, but quickly pushed that away. He wouldn’t have been granted an audience if so. He would just be burned on the pyre. 

Ugh. He hated the thought of burning. The older Merlin got, the more nightmares he had about burning. He was half convinced it was the memory of his kin. 

“Merlin, tell my father he’s being completely irrational!” Arthur spat, and Merlin almost wanted to think this seemed like two toddlers fighting. 

“Boy! Tell my son that his king demands it!” Uther shot back. Ahh. This was two toddlers fighting. 

“Your Majesty, Your Highness, I regret to say I have no clue what we’re talking about.” Merlin stated bluntly, folding his hands behind his back. If this had just been Arthur and Merlin, he probably would’ve made some snarky comment, but Uther was here, and both (grown) men looked like they would impale Merlin if he tried.

“My father is trying to marry me off!” Arthur hissed, his face managing to turn even brighter red. Merlin managed to hold back his snickers and turned to Uther, who stated his case.

“Well it’s about time, don’t you think? You’re nearly thirty!” Uther argued back. When Arthur tensed, as if to lunge at his father, Merlin stepped forward. There didn’t need to be any patricide today. 

“If I may, I do believe it is unfair to marry off Arthur without his consent, my King.” Merlin said, trying to calm both men down. 

“He’s over exaggerating this all! We’re simply having a ball!” Uther shouted, pointing a finger at Arthur, who scowled back. 

“Yes, a ball that you’re inviting every single eligible noble lady in the Five Kingdoms too!” Arthur snapped back. Merlin struggled to keep his face neutral. Uther was right, Arthur was over exaggerating this all, but only slightly. Uther shouldn’t be trying to force his son into a marriage, but Arthur could easily dodge all advances. He’d done it before. Merlin sighed, knowing that what he was about to do would not end well for him. 

“Your Majesty, In my opinion, we host the ball. Arthur, this does not mean you must marry someone. But sir,” Merlin said, turning to Uther, “do not push advances upon Arthur. Being rejected could hurt our relationships with the surrounding countries.” 

Uther nodded, and Merlin could see the smug look of a toddler who had gotten what he had wanted. 

Merlin and Arthur left the room in silence together, and the anger was radiating off of the prince.

Once the pair got back to Arthur’s chambers, Arthur let all hell loose on Merlin.

“How could you side with my father?” Arthur screamed, throwing a pillow at Merlin’s head. Merlin yelped and scrambled away, narrowly avoiding the next pillow.

“You prat! I can’t exactly disagree with the King of Camelot! Maybe you’ll survive it, but I won’t!” Merlin tried to reason, hiding behind a couch from the rage of his prince. 

“I can’t believe you!” Arthur shouted, completely ignoring what Merlin had said. “And that’s a lie! If my father would kill you for arguing with him you’d have been dead years ago!” 

“Yes, yes, very nice Arthur. Can we please just—“ Merlin was cut off by another pillow being lobbed at his head.

“STOP THROWING PILLOWS YOU CLOTPOLE!” Merlin shouted, deciding that Arthur would not be reasoned with right now. To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur actually hesitated for a moment. It was enough time for Merlin to tackle Arthur onto the bed, and with a tiny spell, keep the prince on his back. 

“Let go of me!” Arthur screeched, fighting to get Merlin off of him. Oh Arthur, constantly forgetting that Merlin had grown up in a tiny farming town and was accustomed to riding wild pigs and horses for fun. This was nothing. Eventually Arthur gave up. “You betrayed me.” Arthur muttered, sounding, for a moment, impossibly small. “You’re supposed to support me. Not my father.”

“Arthur, you must understand. Your father—“ Merlin began, before being cut off. 

“You don’t get it! You don’t know what it’s like to have a father!” Arthur spat out. Merlin’s stomach dropped. He struggled to keep a snarl off his face, instead letting his face drop to a neutral. 

He climbed off of Arthur, releasing the spell that had kept Arthur down. “You’re right, sire.” Merlin snipped, “I don’t. If you’ll pardon me, I must go help Gaius with some errands.” 

Merlin didn’t look back as Arthur scrambled to his feet. “Wait! Merlin! I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t.” The prince’s voice was almost pleading. 

Merlin wanted to forgive Arthur. But he also couldn’t help the fact that this made him even angrier. If it hadn’t been for Uther, maybe Balinor could have stayed with Merlin’s mother. Maybe Merlin would have grown up with a mother and a father. Even if not, if Arthur and the knights had just gotten there faster, maybe Merlin would’ve gotten a bit more time with his father. 

Merlin remembered when he had first told Arthur about his father. Arthur had opened up about his mother, about how he would’ve given anything for just a memory. And it had resonated with Merlin. He’d give anything to have a memory with his father. Not even for himself. He’d be content if it was just a memory of his mother and his father. They could despise each other. Just to be able to see them together would have been enough. 

Arthur latched onto Merlin’s wrist just before the servant had exited the room.

“Merlin.” Arthur pleaded. In his eyes, Merlin saw a desperate man. But what Merlin didn’t see was an apology. It hadn’t even seemed to cross Arthur’s mind to say sorry. No, it was a slightly demeaning, “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” But Merlin knew Arthur. And he knew Arthur had meant it exactly like that. Merlin gave Arthur a couple of seconds to choke out even a half-hearted, “Sorry.” 

But he didn’t. 

So Merlin wrenched his hand away, and before leaving, he spat, “You’re right Arthur. I don’t know what it’s like. But I’d much rather be a bastard son to a loving mother than an arrogant son of a tyrant.” 

Arthur’s hurt eyes almost made Merlin want to regret saying what he had. Almost. But the way Arthur’s entire body slumped and gave up, the way he had been broken by just a few words, made Merlin’s magic spark in his veins.

Merlin wanted to say it was the anger of the Goddess at the Pendragons that made him feel such a giddiness inside seeing Arthur like this.

But that just wasn’t true. This was purely Merlin. He liked to see Arthur like this. It made him feel better after watching someone Merlin knew could be great be so cruel. How could Merlin be the other side of a coin to someone who only believe magic could be good when it was good to him? 

And today was a harsh reminded to Merlin. Despite the fact that he had gained the trust of the Pendragons, despite the fact he was the most powerful warlock to ever be, despite the fact he loves Arthur. He would always be servant first, and human second. 

Maybe not even human, if Merlin’s secret were to be discovered. 

Chapter Text

“You’re right Arthur. I don’t know what it’s like. But I’d much rather be a bastard son to a loving mother than an arrogant son of a tyrant.” Merlin sneered at Arthur. Arthur’s stomach dropped. He opened his mouth, trying to say something, anything, but he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t cooperate. 

Arthur heard the venom in Merlin’s words. That was bad. But you know what was worse? There was some…malevolent joy in Merlin’s eyes. His mouth was quirked up in an amused smirk. He was enjoying this. He was enjoying the sight of Arthur hurt and beg!

Arthur wanted to grab Merlin again. Throw him to the ground, remind Merlin of his place. He was angry, god dammit. But that would just be proving Merlin’s point further. Merlin would win.

Instead, Arthur’s hands twitched by his side as Merlin stormed out of the room. Merlin had just committed treason against the king! And yet, Arthur couldn’t find himself to persecute his manservant. He couldn’t find himself capable of anything beyond trying to convince himself he had not just heard what he had. 

Arthur managed to stumble back to his bed at some point. How had this escalated so much? 

Arthur had been angry when he had said…it. He had been hurt that Merlin, his best friend, would side with Uther—a man that Merlin held no lost love for— over Arthur. He was angry and impulsive. He wanted Merlin to understand. How could Merlin understand what having Uther for a father was like?

But Arthur was nothing if not petty. 

He wanted Merlin to hurt more than that. He wanted Merlin to hurt more than him. He needed Merlin to hurt more than him.

Arthur needed to be better. He couldn’t let anyone best him. Especially not like this. 

So he brought up something he knew would hurt Merlin. He hoped it would hurt Merlin more than Merlin’s betrayal had hurt Arthur. What a sicko, he had hoped to hurt his best friend. 

And it didn’t even work. Now he sat on his bed—alone—trying to pretend he wasn’t sobbing because he had just lost the only person he felt truly safe with. Because he didn’t want to see reason. 

The next week was torture. Not because he couldn’t see Merlin, no, Merlin was still with Arthur every second of his day.

But it was different now. Merlin used to feel like this protective shield, some guardian angel that was always there. When Merlin was there, Arthur would be okay. 

Now it wasn’t even a malevolent feeling. Arthur would’ve preferred that over this. He’d prefer anything over this. Merlin was just…there. 

He didn’t make snarky comments.

He didn’t sneak food when he thought Arthur wasn’t looking. 

He didn’t snicker when Arthur stumbled. 

Instead he was the perfect servant. 

“Yes, of course sire.”

“Here’s your breakfast, Your Highness.”

“Let me help you up, sire.

And the worst part of it all, it was only with him. Merlin was exactly the same Merlin with everyone else. He still gossiped with Morgana. He still walked the castle with Guinevere and discussed different books. He still went to the tavern with Gwaine; He and Lancelot were attached at the hip, as always. He still laughed with Leon. Joked with Elyan. Helped Percy do volunteer work. He still went out the hunt down yarrow and poppy and whatever other herbs that Gaius needed. Fuck, he was even the same with Uther! Enough decorum to keep himself out of the stocks, but still the funny, little guy that had stolen all of Camelot’s hearts. 

Except with Arthur. With Arthur he…he…he made brass jokes! Fuck him, Merlin was just copying George! What a clot pole. 

But Arthur would not lose. Especially not to Merlin.

~.~.~.~.~

Fuck, Arthur was gonna lose. He couldn’t do this. He wanted Merlin back. He wanted his Merlin back.

He couldn’t stand another day watching Merlin be cheery, and sarcastic, and everything else that was Merlin, with everyone but him. Arthur had made up his mind. He was going to apologize. 

“Merlin!” Arthur barked when his manservant entered the room. The practiced aloofness and indifference on Merlin’s face was already crumbling Arthur’s resolve. But no, no Arthur needed to do this. 

“Yes, Your Highness?” Merlin asked, his voice betraying no emotion. Arthur grit his teeth. 

Apologize. Apologize. Apologize. Apologize.

“Merlin, I-I…I need you to tell the tailor to make me new clothes for my father’s ball. None of these ones are nice enough.” Arthur knew he sounded bratty as he said it. Merlin stood before Arthur in literal rags. His scarves were made of old shirts that he couldn’t wear anymore. His shirts were whatever he could scrounge up. His pants were way too small for his long legs. Arthur knew this. And yet he stood here, and complained about how his finest silk wasn’t fine enough.

Because he couldn’t man up and apologize. 

Still, some little part of Arthur hoped Merlin would react. He hoped he would bristle in the smallest way, just to show that he still held some semblance of emotion for Arthur. Arthur prayed Merlin would sit Arthur down and lecture him for being an obnoxious prat. 

But Merlin didn’t. Merlin nodded, and slipped out of the room, leaving Arthur’s breakfast on the table. Completely untouched. 

The sight of it angered Arthur. He scowled at the plate, as if it was the source of all his ailments, and he threw it at the wall. The clang echoed through the silent room.

Then Arthur stormed out of the room, desperate to take his anger out on something. In his case, it was the knights.

“My lord, is there something wrong?” Sir Leon grunted out as he parried one of Arthur’s attacks. This only spurred the prince on further. Everything was wrong! Merlin wasn’t here and that was wrong! Merlin wouldn’t do anything but his job, and that was wrong! Merlin was wrong. Merlin was everything, and he was gone.

Arthur bit back a sob with the realization. He hit Leon with the butt of his sword, sending the knight crashing to the ground.

He stood over Leon, waiting for the man to get up. He never did. Arthur’s heart stopped. He looked at his sword, the part he had hit Leon with covered with blood. Arthur dropped to his knees, crying out when he saw the giant gash on Leon’s head. 

The other knights rushed over when they saw the two men on the ground. 

Percival gasped, and Elyan clung to his side. Lancelot dropped to the ground, trying to help stop the flow of the blood. Arthur was still sitting in shock at what he’d done. He looked back up at the knights, meeting Gwaine’s gaze. When it settled on Arthur, it was full of disgust and horror. 

Arthur didn’t know what to do. 

Gwaine seemed like his was going to say something, but then his eyesight wandered to something beyond Arthur. Someone. 

Merlin. 

Merlin dropped the baskets he was holding and rushed over to the knights. He took Leon from Lancelot, and looked up at Arthur. 

It was the first emotion Arthur had seen on Merlin’s face in weeks, and it was quite a bittersweet moment. For the first time in forever, Merlin was truly acknowledging Arthur. But then again, it was hatred and horror. 

“What did you do?” Merlin shouted. Merlin was looking at Arthur as if Arthur was magic. There was this deep-seated horror and fear in Merlin’s eyes. But there was also a hint of betrayal. 

Arthur wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to beg for forgiveness. But instead he helped Percival carry Leon to Gaius, as Gwaine gave Arthur the stink eye when he thought the prince wasn’t looking. Merlin and Lancelot had rushed ahead to set up for Leon. Elyan had went to inform Uther what had happened. 

Arthur sat beside Leon as Gaius and Merlin tended to the man. At some point, though it was mostly hazy, Arthur remembered Merlin gently moving him so they could better get to Leon. It had been lovely, but it was soon overshadowed by Gaius telling him what had happened to Leon.

“Sire, he seems to have a severe concussion and part of his skull has been fractured. He also has developed a fever.” Gaius said gently, sensing the prince was already in shambles. “It will take a great deal of time for him to recover, and he might suffer permanent damage. But he will live.”

With that, Arthur was shooed from the physician’s tower and dragged back to his rooms by Merlin. Arthur desperately hoped Merlin would stay and talk to him. But he didn’t. 

The door opened a couple hours later while Arthur sulked. He quickly sat up, expecting it to be Merlin with an update on Leon. Instead, Gwaine stomped in, followed by a concerned Lancelot. 

“I truly don’t give a fuck what fight you and Merls are having, you need to get it together princess.” Gwaine snapped. Arthur was lost. 

“Gwaine. Gentle.” Lancelot prodded. Gwaine rolled his eyes.

“No, the princess needs to hear this. Merlin coddled him so long that he blew a simple thing out of proportion, and is now causing problems for everyone else when his precious Merlin left. I’m not gonna let him get out of it this time. He nearly killed Leon.” Gwaine hissed, and Arthur shrank back from the two knights. This time Lancelot didn’t argue as Gwaine ripped Arthur a new one. 

Gwaine yelled at him for all sorts of things. 

For starters, Leon. That was fair.

But then he started going on and on about how rough Arthur had made training recently. Arthur hadn’t even realized he was doing that. 

And apparently Arthur had been terrorizing every other servant but Merlin. In all honesty, Arthur had been terrorizing Merlin as well.

Then Arthur was getting berated for being rude to Guinevere. 

Then Lancelot spoke up. Lancelot was an honorable man, he’d barely said anything while Gwaine went off like a firecracker. 

Arthur had always known, deep down, Lancelot and Gwaine—especially Gwaine—would always hold more loyalty to Merlin than anyone else. They would not be here without Merlin. Lancelot and Merlin were strangely close, in a different way than Merlin and Arthur. They both seemed to know things about each other that no one else knew, in a way that was entirely inappropriate for a knight and a servant. But then again, Lancelot was not of noble blood. 

And then there was Gwaine. When Arthur first met Gwaine, he had been entirely convinced the man was in love with Merlin. In all honesty, Arthur still wasn’t completely sure Gwaine didn’t hold some feelings for Merlin. Who didn’t? It was Merlin! 

Arthur was entirely convinced everyone had had feelings for a man in their life, even other men. There was just no way someone could only care for women when people like Merlin existed.

So Gwaine being angry wasn’t a shock. Neither was Lancelot. What was surprising was that Lancelot would voice it. If it came down to life and death, Lancelot would choose Merlin. In all honesty, Arthur was beginning to think all of his knights would. But he wasn’t as blatant about his loyalty as Gwaine was. If Gwaine hadn’t voiced his concerns, Arthur would be more worried.

But Lancelot honored and respected the Pendragons, even if he disagreed with what they said. 

“Arthur, do you love Merlin?” Lancelot asked. There was no venom or hurt behind his words, they were just words. But not to Arthur. 

He wanted to laugh. What an outrageous thought. Love Merlin? Insanity! Disrespectful Merlin with his too large ears, and too long limbs, and his stupid smile, and his annoying amount of boy-ish charm. Merlin, who Arthur had thrown multiple tantrums over. Hadn’t Arthur admitted to himself Merlin was his everything? Hadn’t Arthur just thought about how it was impossible to not be attracted to men because Merlin existed? 

Did Arthur love Merlin?

“I do.” He admitted, even though every part of his body told him not to. That’s not true. It was one part of him. His father. It was Uther’s voice screaming in Arthur’s head that this was wrong. Merlin was a man, even worse a servant. Merlin didn’t blindly obey everything Arthur said. 

And that was exactly why Arthur loved him.

“Then act like it!” Lancelot hissed. It was like a slap across the face. Oh no, it was. That was just from Gwaine, who was still frowning at Arthur.

“What?” Arthur hissed, feeling much more in his right mind that he had in weeks. 

“I know what you said to Merlin. How would you feel if someone you had pledged your entire life to protecting, that you had just helped, had called you motherless? If instead of apologizing, had just reminded you that your friendship with each other shouldn’t exist? And then hurt one of your friends?” Lancelot spat. Arthur didn’t know how to respond. 

“Merlin is too good for you—too good for all of us—and you take that for granted. Because you didn’t want to lose? Let me tell you something Arthur, you didn’t ‘lose’ because you showed emotion or were hurt. You’re losing the man you love, though. I suggest you get over yourself and apologize.” Lancelot finished and left the room, Gwaine at his heels. Before Gwaine shut the door, he sent a rather vulgar gesture at the prince of Camelot. 

Arthur wanted to yell “that’s treason” but decided now wasn’t the time. Arthur needed to apologize to Merlin.

Chapter Text

So here’s a fun little fact, whenever Arthur sees Merlin, a funny little part of his brain shuts off. It’s called the prefrontal cortex, and it controls logical thinking.

This is how Arthur manages to be a renowned strategist, and will argue that Merlin’s just a funny little country boy while Merlin actively commits treason.

Of course, none of them realize this. 

Merlin is simply convinced this prat-tish prince has random moments of wisdom and is terribly oblivious.

And Arthur is fully convinced that Merlin is nothing beyond his manservant. Forgetting that his friend has a life beyond Arthur, occasionally.

While everyone else has to watch as two incredibly smart young man manage to lose all brain cells when together. 

And that is why Arthur could not manage to put an apology together, no matter how much he wanted to. His brain was overtaken completely by emotions, meaning he was so drowned in guilt, embarrassment, anger, betrayal, and love, that he devolved to the man his father had trained Arthur to be. 

So instead of, “Merlin I am so sorry for saying all that to you. I was hurt and unreasonable, and that is not excuse. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me, because without you I don’t know what to do with my life.”

Merlin got, “Merlin! What is this? Redo it all!”

At least while sober. 

The ball was a large success. Multiple courts attended, for this was the first ball thrown since the death of Ygraine De Bois. 

It also had a lot of alcohol. 

And a very confused, frustrated Arthur. 

And an even more confused, frustrated Merlin.

By the second hour, Arthur was black-out drunk. Of course, it was Merlin’s job to reign the prince in so he didn’t accidentally declare any wars on other kingdoms. But dealing with drunk Arthur meant Merlin had to get rid of all alcohol in the vicinity so Arthur couldn’t drink anymore. And when dealing with everything Merlin dealt with, you’d understand why he just drank everything near them. 

This all led to complete and total chaos. Arthur was too drunk to think his actions and words through, so Merlin was given Arthur’s crown and cloak. And Merlin was too drunk to argue about it. 

You must feel some empathy for the princess Merlin flirted with finding out she was not, in fact, receiving advances from the crown prince of Camelot, but instead, his manservant. This happened quite a bit. 

Pretty soon, word reached Uther about the mess his son and servant were causing, so both were sent out of the ball quite early. 

After being locked into Arthur’s chambers, both men collapsed in drunken laughter about…councilors being chickens? How did councilors being cowards become so funny?

Ahh no. They were laughing about councilors being chickens. As in they were imagining the different councilmen as chickens. The drunken stupor of two lovers, beautiful and absolutely incoherent.

“Arthur,” Merlin hiccuped, “I can’ believe you haven’t fig’r’d me out yet.” Arthur looked quizzically at his manservant. What in the world? 

“Haven’t figured out what, Merlin?” Arthur asked, rolling closer to Merlin. Was the blush on Merlin’s face the alcohol or the proximity? Arthur hoped it was the proximity. Merlin didn’t answer the question, just laughed. It was a light, melodic sound that made Arthur’s heart swell. 

It made no sense, but Merlin’s laugh sounded like a warm summer day. It was hopeful and it made Arthur think that everything would be alright. 

“‘M sorry, Merls. I sh’n have said all that.” Arthur slurred, pulling Merlin into his chest. 

“Said what?” Merlin asked, and Arthur relished the fact that Merlin’s voice was full of a childish joy. His Merlin’s voice. Merlin wasn’t mad at him right now, and Arthur was thriving off of it. 

“That stuff ‘bout your dad. It was wrong. I was hurt ‘nd you deserve be’er.” Arthur hiccuped. Merlin looked up at Arthur, and Arthur could’ve sworn his eyes looked golden. It was pretty. 

“I’s okay Arthur. Love you.” Merlin muttered, before curling back up into Arthur’s chest. 

Neither men seemed to realize what had just been said for a solid two minutes, before it finally pierced Arthur’s thick skull. 

If anyone else had been in the room, they would’ve said it was the happiest they’d ever seen the Once and Future King. 

Luckily for Arthur, it was only Merlin. With a large grin, Arthur flipped Merlin around and kissed him.

Arthur was soaring. 

Literally, actually. Drunk+Powerful Warlock=No control over magic, if you want the equations. 

“Merlin…we’re flying.” Arthur mumbled into the kiss. It took Merlin a few moments to process, and they promptly dropped back onto the bed. 

“You’re dreaming?” Merlin asked sheepishly, shockingly sober at the moment. Arthur rolled his eyes, and pulled Merlin back into the kiss. 

“Talk in the morning.”

~.~.~.~.~

“Merlin! You have magic?” A loud, angry voice awoke the birds the next morning.