Chapter Text
When Merlin awoke he could almost believe he’d went through with it last night after all, because he’d never been so comfortable in his life, and it was entirely possible that he was in the afterlife right now.
As he started to sit up, something slipped off the top of his head, and he glanced behind himself as if to see what it was before realizing that it must have been a hand. That was when he spotted Arthur beside him and nearly startled himself off the bed.
“Gods,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes, aware Arthur was looking at him.
“You fell asleep.”
“I fell asleep in a chair,” Merlin felt the need to defend himself.
Arthur looked amused. “You were snoring.”
“What?!”
“I had to move you. I couldn’t take it.”
He rubbed his eyes again, just so he didn’t have to look at him. “Well. Thanks for not dumping me on the floor.”
After he decided he was able to face Arthur again, he took in his friend’s appearance and spoke his conclusion aloud: “You didn’t sleep.”
“No.”
A rush of guilt descended upon the warlock. “I shouldn’t have burdened you,” he said ruefully. “I know that was a lot last night-”
“I needed to hear it,” Arthur interrupted. He turned to him. “Merlin. No more lies. No more secrets. And none of these ridiculous sacrifices. Understood?”
“Alright,” Merlin said carefully.
“Not ‘alright,’” the king said, agitated. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Gods, Merlin. I thought you were going to do it last night. I thought I was going to lose you. Then what would I have done?”
“Hired a more competent servant?” the warlock suggested.
“I’m being serious! Promise me.”
“I won’t do the spell!” Merlin said, hands flying up in surrender.
“No more self-sacrificing. Promise,” the king said sternly.
“Well - it it’s for the good of Camelot-”
“ Mer lin.”
“I promise,” he huffed.
Arthur fell back on the pillows, sighing heavily. His hands were on his face again, and they muffled his words. “You are the bane of my existence.”
“I’m quite the opposite, if you were paying attention to anything I said last night, thank you very much,” Merlin said testily, which actually got Arthur to laugh. He sat up again.
“So that’s it. That’s your destiny.”
Merlin eyed him, not certain what he was supposed to say. “. . .Yes? What do you mean?”
“That’s why you’re here. Why you’ve been here this whole time.”
Arthur wasn’t going to outright ask, but suddenly, Merlin understood what he wanted to know.
Now the warlock flopped back on the bed. “Maybe in the beginning. Well, at first I didn’t even want anything to do with it.” He grinned up at Arthur. “Thought you were an idiot. And a total prat.”
“Right,” Arthur rolled his eyes.
“But I. . .I don’t know. I mean. Come on Arthur,” he said, shifting uncomfortably despite the fact that he was lying on the King of Camelot’s soft bed, “I care about Albion and Camelot, and I guess the prophecy, too. But I don’t do it because Kilgharrah wouldn’t stop yammering about it, I do it ’cause. . .it’s you .”
He shifted around again as he tried to explain. “It’s one thing to believe in some prophecy, but I know you, Arthur.” His eyes flickered upwards, a bit hesitant, but honest. “I believe in you .”
Arthur stared at him for a moment, but it was a different intensity than last night, something that made him nervous and hot in a different way. Then Arthur reached down and ruffled his hair before standing. “Get up, Merlin. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Scowling as he patted his hair back down, he sat up and prompted, “By which you’re referring to. . .?”
“Well, we’ve got to figure out how to stop Morgana without you killing yourself. That hasn’t changed, except for the footnote,” the king said, raising an eyebrow at him.
“You’re not letting that go, are you?” Merlin harrumphed.
“And now I can finally propose those papers lifting the magic ban I’ve been drawing up,” he mused.
Merlin jerked to standing. “What?” Then, “You’ve been-?”
“Then start to find you some suitable clothes and manners. If you’re to be my Court Sorcerer, that is.”
The warlock’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Arthur-” he croaked.
“That was what Kilgharrah wanted, right?” Arthur asked him. “You by my side, as Court Sorcerer?” He blinked and looked away thoughtfully. “Unless he meant something else.”
Merlin was so busy hyperventilating that he almost missed this last bit. “Something else? Like what?”
“Like an advisor?” Arthur’s expression said he was teasing the warlock. “Did you have any other ideas in mind, Mer lin?”
Mimicking Arthur’s unassuming countenance, he shrugged, replying airly. “None at all, sire.”
The king studied him for a long moment before drifting towards his desk, presumably looking for his writings to lift the magic ban - Arthur was lifting the magic ban - as he pressed, “That satisfies your prophecy, then? It’s everything you’ve ever hoped for?”
“It sounds like you’re implying something, my lord,” he said dryly even as his heart thudded treacherously in his ribcage.
The king briefly rested the papers he’d gathered up back down on the edge of the desk. “I’m implying you’re a coward.”
“A-” Merlin was affronted. “Better a coward than a prat!”
Arthur grinned. “Alright, are you ready?”
“As your Court Sorcerer and Advisor,” Merlin said haughtily, “and perhaps as your manservant as well, I might suggest you put on some proper clothes, sire .”
His friend glanced down at his nightshirt.
“Or maybe getting some sleep first? You’re talking in circles.”
Arthur seemed to deflate a little, but the determination on his face remained. He finally let go of his papers and walked back over to Merlin. “Pick out something regal. We’re making history today.”
“Everything you own is regal,” Merlin snorted. “And you need to go back to bed.”
Stopping right in front of him, Arthur frowned. “Just because you’re becoming Court Sorcerer doesn’t mean you get to boss me around, Mer lin.”
“What about in the other position?”
“Advisor?” Arthur said, unimpressed.
“No, the other one,” Merlin hummed.
Arthur narrowed his eyes, but he was smiling. He tilted his head so that their foreheads were touching, just like the night before. “Who’s talking in circles now, Mer lin?”
Before the warlock could retort, his king was kissing him.
Merlin, beginning to reciprocate eagerly, was still registering the wonderful turn his life had just taken when Arthur pulled back and started pressing hot dripping open mouthed kisses down his neck, pausing barely a quarter beat for, “’S this okay?”
“I like this position,” Merlin said stupidly. As Arthur huffed a laugh, the warlock decided to return the favor, only he was quicker, darting barely-there butterfly kisses from the king’s neck to his jawline before reclaiming his mouth. He met a lot of teeth because a grin was plastered there, and it was odd and silly and lovely at once.
He didn’t realize what Arthur was doing before it was too late and an incredulous “Merlin!” startled him. To his embarrassment, the king’d been hiking up shirt, not only exposing pale skin but the array of scars there. Face flaming, he tried to force the fabric down but Arthur held firm. “Oh gods,” Arthur said, thumbing at the marks, “it’s gonna take us all morning to get through these. “
“No time,” Merlin chirped, managing at last to cover them up when Arthur’s hands moved to his waist. “Remember sire , you’ve several meetings to attend,” Arthur was backing him to the bed as he spoke, “the usual training with the knights, a nap to take, and you haven’t even eaten breakfast yet.”
As the backs of Merlin’s knees hit the bed, Arthur held him still, growing serious. “I will start on lifting the ban today,” he promised. “But everything else can wait, don’t you think?”
“Well-”
Arthur launched them both forward onto the mattress, back where they’d started the morning. What if that was how all their mornings could start? Waking up together? Merlin couldn't remember wanting anything more for so long, though he’d buried it deep down. Why should he deny himself now, when Arthur finally knew who he truly was?
So when Arthur pushed his shirt up again, and traced a faded white nick above his hipbone, and asked, “What’d you sacrifice this for, you clotpole?” Merlin answered, and waited for his turn to kiss Arthur’s sacrifices, too.