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There were not many times Merlin was hesitant to speak to Arthur, especially now that he knew about Merlin's magic. But, as Merlin paced back and forth before the door to Arthur’s chambers, he knew there was no coming back from what he was about to say.
His magic had been revealed by accident, and Arthur had eventually accepted it, then embraced it. He has not lost him then. But he might be about to lose him now.
Back and forth before the door. Back and forth. This could ruin everything. He really shouldn't do this.
Back and forth. Back and forth. He couldn't keep silent any longer. If he didn’t tell, it surely would slip out. It was better to do it on purpose.
Back and forth. Back and forth. If he could rip his heart from his chest, that might make things easier.
Back and forth. Back and forth. This was all Arthur's fault. Stupid. Handsome. Prat.
Back and forth. Back and forth. He should stop pacing and do what he came here for.
Back and forth. He should stop pacing now. He really should stop.
The door was yanked open from the other side. Merlin jumped about a foot in the air and then whirled to face the now open door.
Arthur stood there in nothing but his pants, his arms crossed over his chest. As usual, he was ridiculously attractive. It was not fair how attractive he was. Even when clearly angry.
“Merlin! What are you even doing!” Arthur snapped.
"Your apparent, idiotic, need to test if you can wear a hole in a stone floor can be done somewhere else. Somewhere where I am not sleeping!” his voice rose on the last sentence.
Merlin watched him with wide eyes, and the words simply spilled out of his mouth. “I love you.”
Arthur's eyes grew huge, his brows shot up, and annoyance faded into shock. “What? What did you say?”
“I love you.” Merlin blurted out again, and moved a hand to the back of his head. “Just. I love you. Hope you don’t mind…” He continued to ramble, cursing his mouth, “There's not much I can do if you do mind. I mean, I would never force you into anything, but I’ve tried shoving it down, and it doesn't work, so I had to at least tell you...”
“You love me?” Arthur interrupted and repeated the words with the strangest look on his face. “You’re sure?”
Merlin could not help the tone with which the next words came out of his mouth, “Pretty damn sure.”
“Right,” Arthur said calmly. “Right…”
And then, without warning, he grabbed Merlin by the top of his shirt and physically hauled him inside his room, kicking the door shut and pressing his lips against Merlin's with fervent intensity.
It took a moment for his mind to catch up to what was happening. A kiss! Merlin was kissing Arthur. Arthur was kissing Merlin. This meant... This meant... Arthur had feelings, too? Warmth spread through his body along with a tingling sensation and a leap in his stomach. Arthur's lips were soft… His mouth fit perfectly against Merlin's. This was like magic, sunlight, and joy. This was like safety and belonging. All of those mixed with his deep, until now, restrained need for Arthur. Arthur, oh gods, Arthur. Arthur would have to stop this eventually because Merlin had absolutely no intention to, ever.
Merlin grabbed Arthur's shirt, clinging for dear life, and moaned into Arthur's mouth, pressing himself closer. Their tongues intertwined as the kiss deepened. Desire for the other man rose higher inside Merlin, engulfing him completely. Thankfully, Arthur dragged him further into the room toward the bed. Merlin felt his side contact with the sword that Arthur kept by his bed, knocking it away and across the floor. But he didn’t care about that right now. Not when his legs felt shaky and desire continued to pulse through him, urgent and demanding. His hips bucked as they fell onto the bed together. Arthur...
The sound of a window opening interrupted them. Along with two pairs of feet hitting the stone floor. Arthur, always quick to react, let go of Merlin, jumping up as he shoved Merlin back down toward the bed protectively. Likely without thinking, because Arthur knew what Merlin was capable of now. From his new position, Merlin could only see and thus use his magic on one of the assassins. What he could just make out besides the assassin was Arthur reaching for a blade that was no longer where he kept it.
Merlin threw the man he could see out the window with his magic, his eyes flashing gold as he did so. And then pushed himself off the bed.
He was too late.
The second assassin, despite being pinned to the wall by Arthur for the most part, managed to strike Arthur's head with a club.
The sickening sound of metal hitting flesh spread through the room. Arthur's eyes rolled back as the assassin thrust him back.
Arthur fell.
Merlin lunged forward to catch the man he loved as his magic threw the man who had struck him against another wall so hard his neck snapped.
He knelt, supporting his fallen king, as Arthur's weight dragged them both to the floor.
Oh, gods!! Merlin could see the blood.
“Arthur?" He called as he cradled the other man. "Arthur!?”
His fingers traced through red-stained golden hair, feeling for an indent that would mean death, and instead found a bump that meant possible death. His eyes flashed gold as he attempted to heal Arthur with magic. Nothing changed. Arthur didn’t so much as stir. He could only hope he had done something.
Merlin screamed for Gaius. While there had not been guards close enough to hear Merlin's confession, he knew there were some close enough to hear his screams, “GET GAIUS NOW.” He heard footsteps running away.
Merlin caressed Arthur's slack face as his heart pounded in his chest. “Hey.. hey, it's time to wake up. Enough beauty sleep. Arthur? Arthur, please!"
This was all his fault, he realized, looking down at Arthur's limp form. If he hadn’t knocked the sword away… if he hadn't been distracting Arthur…. Guilt welled up inside him. Sticky and overwhelming.
“Arthur…” Too much blood. Too much blood was flowing from Arthur's head! Merlin ripped off his neckerchief and tried to slow the blood flow. It wasn’t enough. He tore off his own shirt… “Arthur… Please.”
But the man he loved remained completely limp in his arms.
Gaius entered the room a short time later, rushing forward, toward both of them. Merlin could feel his eyes swim with tears as he looked up at him. He held Arthur desperately to his chest, as if he could keep him among the living if he held him tight enough.
“He hasn’t woken up… He's not waking up…” He met Gaius' eyes. “There was an assassin with a club. Gaius, it’s bad… I think it's bad. No indent, but it's swelling. I tried to heal it. I don’t know if I did anything.”
Gaius immediately knelt down and pulled back one of Arthur's eyelids and then the other, as he knelt next to them.
He spoke his findings aloud before Merlin could even ask. “Dilated pupils, but not uneven ones.”
“Which means?”
“There is likely no dangerous internal bleeding.” The words were like the sweetest music.
Gaius's skilled fingers moved over Arthur's skull. “Nothing is broken either, that's a good sign, the assassin with the club must have been weakened or preoccupied.”
He had been, by Arthur slamming him into a wall. Merlin's breathing came a tiny bit easier, but he still held Arthur tightly.
He had to watch, unable to look away as Gaius pulled out his medical kit and carefully sewed the wound to Arthur's head closed. He had to watch because, what if Gaius was wrong!?
“What now?” Merlin asked, realizing he was shaking and trying to stop himself. Gaius laid a hand on his shoulder. “We will see if he wakes soon.”
“And if he doesn't!?" Merlin only had to see the expression on Gaius’s face to get his answer.
The next several minutes were the longest and most excruciating of his life. It took too long, far too long, until Arthur let out a moan.
Stirring in Merlin's arms, Arthur’s eyes opened and then immediately shut. “Bright…” his voice slurred.
“We’ll get you somewhere dark soon, sire.” Gaius spoke, “I just need to ask you a few questions.”
“Head… Hurts…” Was Arthur's only response.
“Sire, do you know where you are?” Gaius asked in a calm voice.
Arthur's brow creased in concentration. “Was in my room… in bed?”
“Do you not remember what happened, sire?”
“What happened?” Arthur's face screwed up in confusion.
“You don’t remember anything else?” Merlin asked, realizing Arthur might not remember his confession or their kiss. If he didn't, how could Merlin tell him again!? How could he tell him knowing that them being together had caused this to happen to Arthur?
He knew others would say that kind of thinking was extreme but, if the sword had been where it was supposed to be, if Arthur had been less distracted, he might not be lying on the floor in pain trying to make sense of the world right now.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked. “Where?”
“I’m here, with Gaius,” Merlin told him. Arthur didn’t realize who was holding him either; it seemed.
“Sire, we’re going to take you to a dark room to rest now.” Gaius nodded to some guards Merlin had failed to notice.
“Am… alright,” Arthur slurred.
“Of course you are, sire,” Gaius told him smoothly. “That's why we’re letting you rest and recover.”
Merlin followed as Arthur was carried to a dark room near Gaius so the physician could check on him often. The image of Arthur grappling in panic for a sword that was not there, or him shoving Merlin back onto the bed, or him lying on the ground bleeding kept repeating in Merlin's head. Along with two words “my fault.”
Merlin took a spot on a chair next to Arthur in the dark room and gripped the edge of a nearby end table so hard it pressed painfully into his skin. The images kept repeating over and over. An endless assault sending the feeling of self-blame deeper and deeper inside him.
He didn’t know how long he sat like that by Arthur's bedside. Finally, the images started to go away, leaving behind the guilt as they did so. Merlin’s thoughts began to race as he tried to figure out what to do with the emotions. He shouldn’t tell him. But what if he remembered? He shouldn't be with him. But he loved him. And look what that love had done. 'My fault’, the words repeated in his head. No, technically, that was the assassins' right? It was the assassins’ fault. A more sane part of his mind protested before being quickly overturned. No, the assassins had done this, but they had almost succeeded because of him!
Merlin tore his gaze away from Arthur, who seemed to be sleeping soundly, and looked to the window. It was still dark out, which meant there was time for him to get advice.
After a silent apology to Arthur about not staying by his side, (despite the fact that he now knew the other man would be alright) and a quick word with Gaius, Merlin ran.
Merlin had never been afraid of dark forests, and the Darkling Wood was no expedition. He fell a few times more than normal in the dark, but other than that, the walk was calming, as nature always was, which was good because Merlin's mind was anything but calm.
He reached what he had named the Dragon Clearing. There were a few places in the Darkling Woods the dragon could land, but this was the largest and ironically most hidden.
Merlin shut his eyes for a long moment and then opened them, feeling the power of a thousand voices come though his throat “O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!”
Kilgharrah swooped down from above a short time later and landed with a thump as his wings folded back to their non-flight position. He looked at Merlin with his golden eyes.
“What is it, young warlock? You are distressed,” the giant beast prompted, and Merlin paused, trying to figure out the best way to phrase the all-consuming question on his mind.
Looking up at the creature that was friend and kin, he asked.“Arthur was hurt. He's alive, but he was hurt. It was my fault? Or partly my fault.” The words felt heavy as they left his mouth, but he forced himself onwards. “I distracted him. It's something I want to do again. It made me happy. And him too! But I’m worried. The assassins came, and he couldn't react in time.” Merlin took a deep breath. “He could have died. He could have died because he was distracted by me, but perhaps if I always check before we do anything?”
He shook his head. “That might not be enough. There will not always be assassins. But it was still because of me, and it could happen again. I don’t know what to do.”
He looked up into the dragon's golden eyes.
The dragon tilted his head slightly. “Your duty is to protect the young Pendragon. I do not understand everything you are saying, but above all else, you must protect him. It is your destiny. Magic is on the verge of being allowed, but you both still have much work to do. You must not put the young Pendragon in danger.”
Merlin looked away. He could feel the stone crushing his heart. “You’re right.”
“The burden you bear is a heavy one. Will you tell me exactly what happened? Perhaps I could be of more use?”
“No.” Merlin told him, “No, you’ve... I've heard enough, I think. I just hope I can follow your advice. I told him because I could not hide it anymore, I’ve got to do better. I’ve got to keep it in. You’re right. I’ve been selfish enough.” Merlin didn’t know if he could prevent it from slipping out forever, but he would try. Perhaps he could come up with a way to dismiss it believably if it did slip out….
“Young warlock?” the dragon asked.
“Please go,” Merlin told him. “I need to be alone.”
He watched the dragon fly off before sitting down next to a tree and burying his face in his pulled-up knees to let the emotion out.
Arthur's eyes flickered open with a groan. He felt like someone had taken an axe to his head, or rather, he imagined that would cause this kind of headache. The kind that felt like someone had split his skull in half.
He moved a hand to his head, feeling a bump and smoothly sewn skin. Head wound. Great. He tried to remember how he had gotten it, and bits came back to him.
Reaching for a sword.
Jumping out of bed.
Kissing Merlin.
Arthur sat straight up in the dark and immediately regretted it as dizzy nausea overcame him. He did not lie back down, though. There were more important things to focus on. Like memories of kissing Merlin!?
A hand pressed against his chest, pushing him back down. And Arthur looked to the side into the eyes of Merlin himself.
Immediately, he knew there was something wrong. There was something very wrong. Merlin was trying to hide it, but Arthur could see it in his eyes. “Merlin!? What? You’re not alright.”
Merlin scoffed then responded in a quiet voice. “Says the man who is recovering from a head wound. I’ve got some food to feed you, so I'm going to prop you up slightly on your pillows. No sudden sitting up! Gaius said you need soft sounds and darkness for a while.”
Despite the tease, there was definitely something wrong with Merlin. “I’m not hungry,” Arthur objected, scowling.
“Gaius warned me about that, that you might not be hungry for once in your life. But you need to eat. So, I mixed the tincture for treating pain in the food. It should still taste fine.”
The words were like normal; Merlin was being a practical monster in his focus on getting Arthur well as usual, but beneath the words, there was an almost dead-sounding, crushed feeling to Merlin. And it terrified Arthur more than he could say. Nonetheless, he ate, wondering what was wrong with Merlin all the while.
As his recovery progressed, Merlin never brought up the kiss. Arthur actually wondered if his concussed mind had made it up out of his desire for something like that to happen.
And Merlin? Merlin didn’t change. Outwardly, he was the same as always. But there was something, inside him, that was hurting or broken, and Arthur did not know how to fix it. He needed to figure out how to fix it.
He tried everything. Asking Merlin to perform little magics he enjoyed brought a forced version of Merlin’s usual smile. Making sure he had his favorite foods did nothing; Merlin ate like he couldn’t taste what he put in his mouth, but made “mmm” sounds when he noticed Arthur watching. Arthur wanted to shake him by his shoulders and demand an answer. “How can I help you?” he wanted to scream. But he didn’t.
Because even hinting that something was wrong would make Merlin clamp down and leave Arthur's sight as soon as possible.
Arthur wanted his friend back. He wanted his friend to be okay. Alright, he saw Merlin as more than his friend and was desperately in love with him, butit all came to the same thing. Merlin had to be alright.
Arthur had to find a way for him to be alright.
He needed to get Merlin somewhere where he couldn't just run if asked. It was the only way he could figure out what to do. He needed Merlin to tell him!
Arthur finally got them both to the woods, claiming he wanted to go hunting privately. Merlin didn’t even put up his usual fuss, which made Arthur even more worried.
Once they were surrounded by the anonymous darkness of the trees and a slowly setting sun, he rounded on Merlin.
“Alright, something’s wrong. It's been wrong ever since I hit my head. You can’t keep hiding it.”
Immediately, Merlin looked away. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“You kept your magic a secret for so long. Are you truly going to keep lying to me?” It was a low blow, but Arthur was desperate.
Merlin turned back to him, wide-eyed, “NO! It's not like that! I mean…"
It still wasn't enough; Arthur decided to go out on a limb. “Does it have anything to do with the memories that have been coming back of you kissing me?”
To Arthur's horror, Merlin’s guarded face crumpled into an expression of anguish. He fell to his knees onto the leafy ground. And suddenly it was spilling out as if hiding it had been a great ordeal.
“It was my fault, Arthur! We were kissing, and we knocked the sword away. You were distracted, and didn’t have time to react! You pushed me onto the bed, and I was not fast enough. It was my fault you got hurt, and I talked to the dragon, and he said I cannot put you in danger. He's right! I did put you in danger.”
And it all made sense. Merlin was blaming himself for the assassins. He has a tendency for self-blame that was almost as big as his disregard for his own safety. Arthur should have seen it coming.
And, it called for extraordinary measures. Arthur knelt down and placed a hand on either of Merlin's shoulders. The man he loved looked up, startled by the sudden intimate gesture.
“You’re an idiot.” Arthur told him, “You always were. You’re blaming yourself, again, when it was not your fault. Alright, we’ll have to be a bit more careful. We’ll make sure not to move the sword, but the assassins' choices were their own. You’re not responsible for them attacking me. And, deciding you have to hide the first time we kissed from me and doom yourself, and to never…” he paused and gestured with one hand. “You know, as a solution this is a new level of extreme and stupid, even for you. Were you just never going to tell me?” His voice rose as he asked the last question.
“I was going to try, and eventually fail, at never telling you. But I would try.” Merlin mumbled, his tone mutinous. Despite his words, Arthur could see in his eyes that he was slowly convincing him. Which probably meant he had not had too long to convince himself of the ridiculous idea that this was his fault. Or that he was getting better.
“What if you get assassinated because you're with me?” Merlin asked.
Arthur scoffed, “I’ll take my chances.” It was the wrong thing to say.
Merlin shook his head and pushed Arthur back. “No! NO! I cannot accept that.”
It was time for even more drastic measures.
“How many times have you saved my life?” Arthur began. “Do you only consider that when you want to brag or annoy me? I’m more likely to get saved from being assassinated when you’re with me. And it has side bonuses, like this.”
Arthur leaned in, easing his lips against Merlin's own gently, letting him pull away if he wanted.
Merlin pulled back despite his eyes being filled with longing. “We need to be more careful. We need to stop this from happening."
“We cannot be careful enough to stop every assassination attempt on me,” Arthur told Merlin. “Honestly, they happen no matter how careful anyone is. And that does not depend on us being together.”
“I know,” Merlin told him. “But when we are together, we'll be more careful. I need that. I can’t let you die because I failed in what I’m supposed to do!”
Arthur watched Merlin sadly. On one hand, he appreciated devotion, but it also had a dark side. This dark side. The fact that Merlin truly thought he was solely responsible for keeping Arthur alive at any cost.
“If I die because one time out of hundreds you cannot save me, then I will die knowing I’ve done good for my kingdom and had a full life.” He paused, “I hope that life includes you as more than my servant or sorcerer. I want it to include you as mine.”
It was hard to be this direct and open about his emotions. His insides were screaming that he was being weak and foolish. But this was Merlin. “You are more than just my protector.” He didn't know how else to phrase this. How to say it right. “You are more than that, Merlin!”
But, apparently, what he said was enough because tears began to flow down Merlin's cheeks as he leaned in and kissed Arthur. Arthur had time to hope he had gotten through to him, and then he was swept away by what was happening.
Arthur wrapped his arms around the other man, kissing him back fiercely. Merlin's mouth was soft and supple against his own, eager and responsive, opening against his as Arthur deepened the kiss and their tongues danced.
They both stood up with difficulty, still wrapped around each other as the kisses grew more insistent. The feeling of Merlin in his arms and mouth was intoxicating and somehow comforting at the same time But he wanted more. He needed more. He needed this man right now. Arthur took a few steps forward, aiming to press Merlin against a tree. But Merlin side-stepped, pressing him against it instead and lifting Arthur's hands above his head as he bit Arthur's tongue lightly, teasingly. Even in kissing, Merlin was mischievous and somehow that just made Arthur need him all the more.
Arthur moaned into his mouth as Merlin pressed his hips against his, bucking slightly. Then, Merlin pulled back only to raise an eyebrow to Arthur in question. And, his expression; just as much desire as was running unchecked though Arthur shone in Merlin’s eyes. He was utterly and completely enthralling in his need. Arthur pulled his hands from Merlin's hold and raced to untie Merlin's trousers, in answer to the question the raised eyebrow implied. His hands exposed Merlin's length. And, for a moment, Arthur just stared at it, hesitating. Because he wanted this to be perfect. Then, the desire overwhelmed that, and Arthur obeyed it. He grasped Merlin, feeling him harden further under his touch, and moved his finger experimentally.
Merlin let out a moan, and Arthur continued, then he knocked Merlin’s legs from under him, sending him toppling to the ground, and landing on top of Merlin. He pressed him down onto the leafy forest floor and lifted his head out of the kiss. Arthur put a challenge in his eyes, and raised a brow. Merlin's hands moved frantically ignoring their fall, working to free Arthur’s own cock and experimenting. Arthur trembled at the feeling of familiar calloused fingers in a place they had never been before, stroking him just lightly enough to tingle. He pressed his mouth to Merlin's again, then moved down his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin and enjoying the feeling of his body pressed beneath Arthur's own. It made his mind go wild. He licked the top of Merlin’s chest; the texture of his sparse black chest hair rough against Arthur's tongue.
Then, abruptly, Merlin squeezed Arthur’s cock, and used the sudden overwhelming sensation to take advantage and roll them so he was on top now. Arthur’s fingers pressed against him instantly, trying to replicate the same trick, but Merlin used a free hand to yank his head back by the hair, and Arthur was lost. Then, he saw the fierce possessive look in Merlin's eyes, and he was hopelessly lost. Merlin had won whatever this was.
Merlin pulled his hair, yanking his head downward. Did he want him to take him in his mouth? Was that a thing you could do? As the very idea sent a shiver of delight down his back, Arthur decided he would make it a thing you could do, but he would not do it immediately, he would work his way to it. He began licking Merlin's cock and around the balls first, then his length, feeling the other man’s soft skin in contrast with the hardness beneath it and taking delight in each and every moan that escaped Merlin's lips as his back arched off the ground.
Encouraged, Arthur took him into his mouth fully, and felt Merlin throb inside him repeatedly in response. He moved his tongue around the hard length, pressing here and there before he sucked experimentally, wondering what that sensation would do.
Merlin’s responding gasp of pleasure sent another silver down his spine, but it did more than that too. It made him throb, it made him harden further. This was definitely something to continue. Arthur sucked more intensely, stopping and starting again repeatedly. Feeling himself grow wet as Merlin pulled his hair.
“Gods,” Merlin's head arched back. Arthur ran his teeth down the edge of Merlin's length, just enough to hopefully create a tingling sensation before going back to sucking and prodding with his tongue again. Merlin's entire body tensed with pleasure in response. He trembled. Each little shake he made made Arthur more and more insane.
The dance of pleasure inside him was working its way to a crescendo. Arthur pulled his head back, gasping, “I’m going to…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Merlin let out another moan, “Oh, gods, me too.” Then, he pulled Arthur's head back up by the hair and reached down to press long fingers into Arthur's length. The feel of him massaging sensitive spots around the foreskin threw Arthur over the edge. His own hands were frantic in their movements, as he moved them to Merlin's wet cock in return. He was not even sure what he was doing, only that Merlin's little finger movements were making it impossible to think or plan. The waves of pleasure inside rose higher and higher until a moment of sheer bliss caused ropes of seed to explode from his cock. Merlin’s explosion of pleasure came just a moment later as Arthur panted helplessly
Afterward, they lay on the ground side by side, reclothed and in awe of what they had just done.
“Not bad,” Merlin whispered teasingly.
“I let you win this time,” Arthur replied. And he had, hadn’t he, giving in to Merlin when he could have kept resisting.
Merlin’s grin was mischievous. “Just keep telling yourself that, sire.”
There was a long pause before Merlin added, “We’re going to be the talk of Camelot, assuming you and I are together now.” He looked at Arthur, uncertainly, a brow raised in silent question.
“We’re together now,” Arthur said emphatically. Before the sound of breaking branches and approaching footsteps took his concentration into a completely different direction. He sat up abruptly, reaching for his discarded sword. With his other hand, he raised a finger to his mouth, gesturing for Merlin to be quiet.
Merlin was already sitting up beside him. He scrambled to his feet as quietly as he could.
Arthur got to his feet as well. “What do you suppose are the chances that it's some sort of friendly group, and not an enemy that wants to kill us?” He whispered in a barely audible voice.
“Arthur, it's always some sort of enemy that wants to kill us,” Merlin replied in the same low tone.
Arthur gestured for Merlin to follow him. They moved through the woods quickly, trying to find a place to hide. Arthur knew there was a nice cave nearby, if they could just get there. Even if the enemy found them, following them inside would limit the direction they could come from, and erase their chances of surrounding the two of them. Perhaps, Merlin would not even have to use his magic.
They had almost reached the cave, when the mounted riders broke through the forest and surrounded them. Arthur frowned, recognizing a few knights and nobles of Camelot. “What is this?” He demanded moving back to back with Merlin.
“This is how your reign ends, or at the very least, your plan to legalize magic.” The speaker was a knight Arthur had known for years—a great friend of his father.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Arthur lied.
“You plan to legalize magic for your little pet there. Did you honestly think none of your advisers would realize what you were doing? Not even your spymaster? Either you kill him here, or we kill you and take you somewhere no one will ever find you.
They wanted him to kill Merlin? Well, that was never going to happen. Arthur had to wonder at their intelligence, ambushing them, knowing Merlin had magic? Perhaps they did not know how powerful he was. And, likely, they didn’t know all Arthur could do with a sword. None of these men had seen him in action, or even in practices lately. He gave them a cocky grin.
“I’m no one's pet,” Merlin said from behind him. “I am the last dragonlord, and the sorcerer Emrys. And this was a very stupid plan.”
Arthur heard the twang of a bowstring and did nothing. Merlin could stop arrows easily. As he expected, he heard Merlin's quick incantation. What he didn’t expect was Merlin’s bonecurdling scream.
Arthur whirled in time to see Merlin fall to the ground, his eyes rolling in his head. He didn’t look badly injured; an arrow had managed to graze his arm and broken, leaving the tip protruding slightly. The tip was not even fully inside him.
There had to be some other major injury, something Arthur was not seeing or understanding. Immediately, he moved to protect Merlin, but he could not stand between him and danger when danger was coming from every side.
Worse, Merlin started thrashing too much for him to stand over him either. He stabbed the first man who darted forward, and the next, but as he had known, it was not enough. Arthur was just about to stab a third man when he realized they were holding a dagger to Merlin's throat. Merlin's struggles had subsided in an alarming stillness now. Arthur remained at an impasse with the man who now held Merlin's life in his hands.
“What did you do to him?” All his instincts told him to stall.
Another one of the enemy knights leaned down and yanked out the arrow, before bandaging the light graze on Merlin's arm. Merlin, however, remained completely limp now, eyes closed, and unconscious. His breathing came in quick gasps.
“WHAT DID YOU DO!” Arthur yelled.
“Witch iron.” A nearby knight told him smugly.
Arthur had heard of this before, in the old tales. They said that it could do horrible things to magic users, but the secret to its making had long been gone. Some even said it had never existed at all, and was only a legend.
“We relearned how to make it, and the arrow was tipped with it. Once it punctures the skin, it's said to bring unendurable pain; the more powerful the magic user is, the worse the pain.” The man with a knife to Merlin's throat spoke. Then, he pulled out a cuff from his pack and locked it around Merlin's wrist. “He cannot use his magic now, so we can transport you to the perfect place to kill you, a place where your bodies will never be found. We’re no longer giving you the chance to kill him; you murdered two of us, and there is no hope for you. We’ll get rid of you first, and tell him it was all because of him making you accept magic.
Arthur looked at Merlin. If they were going to let him wake, perhaps there was a chance for him to survive. A chance he would not have, if Arthur kept fighting and they decided to kill him right now.
And, perhaps, by some miracle, if he survived, he could save Arthur. Even if he couldn’t, surrendering now was Merlin's best chance. His only chance. He hoped Merlin would not blame himself for what happened. Even as he knelt down and dropped his sword, he hoped Merlin would not blame himself for whatever happened to Arthur.
Merlin came to and pushed himself up with both arms. He recognized the area. He was in a camp on the cliff near Gepthon Lake. How? He tried to remember what had happened. There had been so much pain.
A man sitting nearby leered at him. “Oh, good, you’re awake. You won’t be doing any magic with that cuff on.”
That's right, they had shot him when he and Arthur...
“Arthur! What did you do to him?” Merlin scrambled to his feet, calling on his magic despite the man's words, and felt it refuse to answer his call. He looked around frantically. There were no weapons nearby, nothing to defend himself with.
“Oh, we decided to get rid of him, so no one will ever find him. He accepted magic, and now he pays the price. Now you know what manipulating him into legalizing magic cost him."
Only one thing about that response mattered right now. “Get rid of him so no one will ever find him.”
“Where is Arthur?” Merlin yelled.
The man pointed to the cliff’s edge, grinning smugly. “We tied a chain around his feet and attached it to a stone, before shoving him over that into the water. I can’t quite remember how long ago. You caused his death, little magic user.”
Merlin looked at the man wide-eyed. “No, no, no, no, no.” As the man opened his mouth to laugh, Merlin took off running. If they were chasing him, he didn't know. Only one thing mattered, and the world narrowed in on that one thing. Saving Arthur.
He dropped off the edge of the cliff and swiveled as he fell, letting the locking mechanism of the cuff on his wrist scrape against the stone of the cliff. It was painful, but it also unlocked the cuff just before he hit the water. That was what mattered now.
Merlin dived into the murky depths without bothering to go up for air again. The lake was abnormally deep, and he used his magic instinctively to shove himself downward toward the distant figure on the barely visible lake bed that could be Arthur. It also could be a log or something, but it was all Merlin saw.
As he descended closer, he realized it was indeed Arthur. The light that penetrated this deep only cast an eerie glow, making it hard to tell Arthur's condition, but Arthur was not struggling, and Merlin was fairly sure his eyes were closed. He moved a hand to what had to be a chain attached to Arthur's leg, calling on his magic to make it release. Then, Merlin wrapped an arm around Arthur, and used magic again to shoot them both toward the surface.
He broke through the surface of the water, and immediately struck out for a nearby mossy shore. Now that the lighting was better, he could see that Arthur's lips were blueish, and his skin was pale. He didn’t cough. He was not recovering.
“Hold on, prat, don’t die on me, you’re not allowed to die on me,” Merlin told him, swimming as fast as he could towards land.
He dragged Arthur up onto the mossy shore as he reached it, laying him down and kneeling next to him, “Arthur!? Arthur!?” Merlin cried his name.
Arthur did not move from where Merlin had dragged him. He just lay there. His chest did not rise.
Merlin shook him frantically, “Breathe! You need to breathe! Breathe! Please, Arthur, breathe! Don’t do this to me! Arthur!”
Nothing. Arthur lay looking like a dead man, with his pale skin and blue lips.
Hesitantly knowing the entire world might end depending on what he found, Merlin's fingers felt for a pulse.
He felt nothing.
Merlin didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, He froze as the world shattered around him. No, this couldn’t happen, “Arthur,” his mouth stumbled over the word. “Arthur…” Arthur was dead. That concept didn’t make sense, Arthur and death being associated. Arthur was life and energy. Arthur was everything.
The screams finally came as Merlin shook Arthur and watched him lull limply. He shook him again and again, desperate. “NO! You can’t be dead. Arthur, come back!!! Arthur! You’re alive.. You’re alive… No… this can't…”
“That was quite a little stunt you pulled, but judging by your reaction, you were too late.”
The voice of the knight from before came from behind him. And, suddenly, the emptiness inside him, that unfathomable emptiness that he thought would never go away, was filled with something new. Rage.
Merlin let go of Arthur, turned, facing down at least twenty men.
Multiple bows were aimed at him, and Merlin knew what those arrows did. A distant part of his mind, underneath the rage, told him we could not rip all these people apart, that would take too long. He had a sudden memory of Ealdor, of his mother's voice. “There's a storm coming, get off the damp ground, Merlin.”
Meeting the eyes of the knights who had killed Arthur, Merlin called on his magic; he didn't cast a spell, he knew his rage and desire would be enough right now. “Die,” Merlin said in an emotionless voice, and sent a bolt of electricity to the wet ground.
He watched as they all died, spasming on the ground in front of him, and then going still. He watched and felt nothing.
Then, a single fact pierced through the rage in his mind. There had been a thumping behind him. Merlin whirled and found Arthur on the ground, in a different position. Had he moved? What was going on? Had Merlin's attack hit him too? It hadn't hit Merlin, and Merlin had assumed that would leave Arthur as well, but perhaps not. And did it even matter? He fell to his knees as the rage left him all at once.
He was back with the unendurable pain. Arthur was dead, Arthur was dead, Merlin didn’t want to believe it. His fingers moved to Arthur's neck again automatically. Still trying to make sense of what was impossible to make sense of.
And he felt a pulse.
Merlin made a choking sound. Not only did Arthur have a pulse, but it was a strong one. Strong but getting less strong.
Arthur was still dying again. Arthur was not breathing, even if his heart had miraculously restarted.
Merlin shook him with renewed hope; he sat him up and slammed a hand to his back. “Breathe! Arthur, please! I cannot lose you again. Your heart is beating somehow, now breathe! Come back! Breathe."
But Arthur was not breathing. Merlin was painfully aware of every breath entering and exiting his own lungs. Desperately, he wished he could give them to Arthur.
What if he could? Could he force air into Arthur?
Merlin bent down, sealing his mouth over that of the man he loved and breathing out as smoothly as possible. He had no idea if this would work, only that it had to. Nothing, nothing, then he realized he had felt air against his cheek coming out of Arthur's nose. He pinched it so the air could not escape, and tried again.
Arthur's chest rose. And, as Merlin pulled back, tears streaming down his cheeks, it fell again.
Leaning down, he breathed into him again, “C’mon, clotpole,” his voice broke in the face of Arthur's still limp body. “Come on!”
Time seemed to become irrelevant; all that mattered was keeping Arthur's chest rising and falling because as long as it was rising and falling and his heart was beating, there was a chance Arthur might come back to him. Come back to life.
Occasionally, he shook the other man, trying to get him to show some sign of recovering. Occasionally, Merlin begged him as he pulled back and watched Arthur's chest fall. He was trapped in a never-ending moment; Arthur was on the precipice of both life and death, and Merlin was trying to coax him back in the direction of life. Because Arthur couldn't die, he couldn’t.
Merlin kept going, kept trying, even when he got no response. He would keep trying as long as he had to.
And then, finally breaking the endless moment, Arthur lurched, coughed, gasped, and choked.
Merlin rolled Arthur onto his side with gentle hands, one hand striking his back, the other forming a fist in front of his mouth as he made choked squeaking noises that he would normally never have let leave his mouth.
Relief washed over Merlin. Blissful, compared to the agony he thought would be his forever.
He was alive. Arthur was alive. So much water came out of him, it had nearly… It had nearly... Merlin rubbed a hand soothingly up and down Arthur's back as the water gushing from his mouth started to slow, then finally came to a stop.
Arthur was just lying on his side, gasping, now. And, after a moment, Merlin pulled him into his arms and became capable of human speech again.
“You came back, you came back.”
Arthur didn’t reply, just laid in Merlin's arms with his chest heaving. Merlin leaned his head downward, pressing it against Arthur's, listening to him breathe.
His fingers moved to Arthur's wet hair, now carding gently as Arthur's breathing evened out. Safe! Merlin had to get him somewhere safe. He had to be somewhere safe until he woke up. Merlin half-carried Arthur to a cave he knew was nearby from a long-ago patrol.
Once inside, he held Arthur in his arms again. He hadn’t stirred and was not waking up. But he was still breathing, and his pulse was still there when Merlin checked. Merlin thrust rough healing magic into the other man; he was never good at healing magic, he hoped it would be enough because he could not get Arthur to Gaius right now.
He rocked Arthur gently in his arms, one arm wrapped protectively around him and the other cradling his cheek. “Please…” It was all he could say, “please… please.”
Merlin held Arthur as the sun set, as his magical fires became the only thing lighting the air. He held him and he begged. “Please. Come on, you can wake up… you’re alive, you need to wake up… I need you to wake up… Arthur… Arthur, please…” His heart pounded in his ears. Then, sneaking in because Merlin was no longer completely incapable of rational thought, came what the men had said.
They had done this because of Arthur's stance on magic, because of Merlin! Suddenly, the same self-blaming thoughts he had had after the assassination attempt rushed back to him. But so again did Arthur’s words about that. About how it was not his fault. His mind was all too ready to blame himself for their actions, but was that right? How was he supposed to decide and think when Arthur was like this!?
The moon was high in the sky when Arthur let out a low groan. “Arthur!” Merlin shifted and cupped his face with both hands tenderly. “Arthur?”
Beautiful blue eyes like the daylight sky opened and focused on him. He was awake!
“Arthur…” Merlin gulped like a fish out of water, gasping for air to say his name again and again. “Arthur, Arthur… you’re alright, you’re alive… you're awake now, Arthur…”
Arthur's eyes widened as he looked up at Merlin.
“It's alright,” Merlin rushed to assure him, “Everything is alright.”
“No,” Arthur's voice was hoarse and slow. “You’re not,” he reached up a hand to touch Merlin's cheek.
“Will be,” Merlin insisted. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. “I will be… will be.” Instead, he moved a hand to hold Arthur’s to his cheek. Arthur was plainly exhausted; he had no business spending energy keeping his hands on Melkin's cheek.
But! He was awake, alert, and talking in a voice Merlin never thought he would hear again.
Arthur's eyes remained on Merlin’s face above him, clearly concerned. But, he did not press immediately. Instead, seeming to take inventory of what was happening. “Ugh, my head…” Arthur groaned. Urgh… chest… I remember…” He trailed off, looking at Merlin as his eyes widened slightly and then narrowed. “How close did I come to dying, and why did you feel the need to kick me in the chest on top of all that?”
“I did not kick you in the chest,” Merlin wiped away tears. “I may have jolted you with lightning by accident, but I did not kick you in the chest.”
“Sure feels like you kicked me in the chest,” Arthur grumbled before pausing. “You what!?”
“It was an accident, and quite frankly, it seems to have restarted your heart somehow, so you should be thanking me!” Merlin pulled Arthur even tighter to himself. Caressing his face with one hand. Merlin could not suppress a sob.
“Restarted my- Merlin? Merlin, look at me.”
Quite frankly, saying look at me was unnecessary because Merlin had no intention of looking anywhere else for quite a while.
“I’m here… You did it. You saved me. I’m here. Whatever happened, it's over.” Arthur's voice was soft; it had a soothing tone.
And Merlin found words spilling from his mouth. “I had to make you breathe… breathe for you… and you were not waking up…You were dead.. I thought you were dead…”
“I’m here,” Arthur repeated in a firm but gentle tone, “Whatever you did, it worked. I’m alive.” He was clearly trying to comfort Merlin. The soft tone told him Merlin could express his emotions, and Arthur would not try to stop him or make fun of him.
So Merlin bent down and buried his face in the crook of Arthur's neck. His tears came freely. Arthur wrapped an arm around him, and Merlin lowered them both to the ground so that Arthur could hold him more easily. Merlin held him in turn and shook with muffled sobs, crying his heart out. A few times, Arthur started to say something in an uncertain tone, then trailed off before even finishing a single word. Finally, he said nothing, just holding Merlin, which turned out to be exactly what Merlin needed right now. The feeling of Arthur's arms around him, holding him tight. The feeling of Arthur's lips as he gave up trying to find the right words and just kissed whatever patch of Merlin’s skin he could reach. He needed this. He needed it badly. Slowly, as those arms held him, Merlin could feel the sobs coming to an end and felt a bit better. Finally, he gasped. “You almost left me, clotpole. You’re not allowed to do that from now on, never.”
“Do you want me to send out a notice to all assassins that they have to stop because you said so?” Arthur's voice was dry, but there was a testing note to it as if he was gauging how Merlin was. Banter was their universal are you alright language, but Merlin did not reply with banter.
Instead, Merlin thought about it for a moment.
“Actually, yes. Send out one saying you are under the protection of Emrys, and if they try, I will destroy them in ways they cannot even imagine.” And he would. Whatever he had to do to stop the assassins. Whatever he had to do to keep Arthur alive, with his heart beating, beside him. Whatever it took, Merlin would do it.
“Anything else you want added to this little note?” Arthur asked.
“No, that's about it… And, Arthur, I will destroy them. Anyone who tries to hurt you, ever. This cannot happen again. I won’t let it happen again. I failed you this time, I’m-”
Arthur cut him off, shifting himself so his sky blue eye met Merlin's night blue ones. The expression on his face was dead serious. “Merlin, do not try to apologize; this was not your fault. You saved me. You did not fail." Arthur paused a moment, then continued after taking a deep breath, "You seem to think you need to hold my entire life in your hands and keep it safe, no matter what. You seem to think that you are nothing but my protector! I don’t want you to serve me like that. ”
Hurt. Confusion. Merlin was sure both showed on his face.
Immediately, Arthur tried to explain, “I want you to serve me in some ways… I accept you want to protect me, and I appreciate the rescue, and I like some of the servant things you do, and don’t want to lose them, and how we act during them, but…”
He trailed off; either he was struggling to pick his words, or was starting to have trouble thinking due to his near-drowning experience.
Merlin knew he would remember the words that came out of Arthur's mouth next for the rest of his life.
“I want you as mine, beside me, not behind me,” Arthur finished after about a minute.
Merlin could feel the weight of what Arthur had just said wash over him. The words, and everything they implied. For so long he had thought of himself as Arthur's protector, the one who stood behind him and kept him safe. The one who was lesser. That was where destiny had put him. But, apparently, it was not where Arthur put him. Apparently, what Arthur wanted was them standing side by side. As equals. Protecting each other. Both important, and both precious.
Merlin believed in Arthur more than he did destiny.
He didn’t know what might change inside him yet, but he knew it would. He knew this was the beginning of a new era. “Beside you, not behind you?”
“Yes.” Arthur said firmly, “Can I go to sleep without you panicking?”
“I think so,” Merlin replied, and a moment later, Arthur was out. Merlin kept his fingers on Arthur's neck, watching him for any sign of drowning aftereffects, before eventually falling asleep himself.
The next day, Arthur insisted he could make it back to Camelot, and actually managed it with Merlin's help. By the time he was fully recovered and as the new pro magic laws came out, Merlin stood ruling beside him, not behind him.