Work Text:
Kiss Today Goodbye
Arthur’s head pounded and he was aware of the faint taste of blood in his mouth. His old injury from the Questing Beast was aching, sending an acute, slicing pain through his shoulder, and any attempt to move sent a wave of nausea through his stomach.
There was a noise: a strange, deep noise that sounded close and far away all at once. It was a voice, but it was like no voice Arthur had ever heard before. It was other-worldly, unnatural, and so deep it made the earth around him shudder. He forced his eyes open, the action sending a sharp, stabbing pain through his temple, and saw the blurry outline of Merlin standing in front of him.
The sound was coming from him - as impossible a notion as that was - and Arthur watched in bewilderment as he roared up at the great dragon and the beast stilled itself entirely. Arthur watched in horrified fascination, uncomprehending and staggered by what he was witnessing. The dragon bowed its head and Merlin stopped the noise, his back rigid and his fists clenched tightly by his sides.
He bent and picked up the spear that had been knocked from Arthur’s hand when he’d been sent flying and parried it towards the creature, who reared back in what looked more like deference than fear.
“I am the last of my kind, Merlin. Whatever wrongs I have done, do not make me responsible for the death of my noble breed.”
“Noble?” Merlin echoed, his voice hoarse and raw. “Is what you’ve done here noble? Hundreds have died because of you! Innocent people, people who never did you any harm, have suffered terribly because of your need for vengeance!”
“I did what I had to do.”
“You did nothing of the kind!” Merlin shouted angrily. “You’ve wrought devastation on Camelot. You tried to kill the very person you’ve spent the last two years telling me to protect! You let your hatred blind you, and worse still, you made me complicit in it. I would never have released you if I’d known what you intended to do.”
Arthur’s stomach rolled and his mouth went dry. It couldn’t be true. Merlin couldn’t be the one responsible for releasing the dragon, couldn’t be the person who had helped the awful monster wreak such destruction on Camelot and her people. It was too terrible to countenance.
“How could you do this?” Merlin said in a whisper, his voice broken and defeated. “All those times…all those times I came to you for help, for guidance. All the times you told me about the great destiny Arthur and I had together, and then you do this! You tried to destroy the one person I care for most in this whole damn kingdom, the one person I would give my life to protect. How could you?”
“When you have been imprisoned in a stinking cave for 20 years, bound in chains and forced to never see the sky, then you may question my motives.”
“Don’t,” Merlin spat. “Don’t play the victim, not after what you’ve done. I should kill you,” he said, and Arthur watched as he raised the spear again.
“Will you?” the dragon asked, and Arthur wondered the same thing, wondered if Merlin truly had it in him.
Merlin paused, the spear shaking in his hand. “I am the last Dragonlord and you are the last dragon,” he said in a whisper, and Arthur’s world shifted sideways. “I can’t be responsible for your death, but I can’t let you live unless you give me your oath that you will never attack Camelot again.”
The dragon paused before it bowed its great head and said solemnly, “You have my word that I will never seek to harm Camelot and its people again.”
“And Arthur?” Merlin asked, his voice choked. “I want you to swear to me that whenever I ask for your help, you will grant it.”
“You are a Dragonlord, Merlin, you can command of me what you wish.”
“I don’t want to command it,” Merlin said through gritted teeth. “I want you to give it and give it freely.”
“Then I shall.”
Merlin stared up at the beast and Arthur watched, wondering who this man was in front of him. Merlin had always been a puzzle to him. He’d always struggled to completely understand him, but he had thought he’d known him better than this at least.
“Go,” Merlin said, biting the word out. “Leave. If you ever break your oath to me, I swear I’ll kill you. I have shown you mercy. Now you must do the same to others.”
“What you have shown, young warlock, is what you will be. I will not forget your clemency. If you have need of me, you have only to call.”
Merlin gave a curt nod and let the spear drop from his hand, a tremor wracking his body as he did so. He stepped back, every muscle taut, and watched as the dragon braced itself then flew up into the air, the draft from its wings sweeping across the field like a storm.
Arthur watched, holding his breath, as Merlin let his head fall into his hands, taking a few deep breaths before moving them up into his hair. His fingers clenched the black tendrils as he squeezed his eyes shut and seemingly tried to collect himself.
Arthur pushed himself up onto his elbows, feeling a faint trickle of blood run down his temple. He was trying to decide what the hell he was supposed to do when Merlin turned. Their eyes locked and the colour drained from Merlin’s face, his mouth opening but no sound coming from it.
They stayed that way for what felt like hours but could have been no more than a few moments, before Arthur pushed himself to his feet. His body groaned at the movement and his head was threatening to fall off his damned shoulders at any given moment. He gripped the hilt of his sword, trying desperately to ground himself, wondering how his entire world could have changed in the matter of only a few minutes.
“Arthur – ”
“How could you?” Arthur asked, his voice barely a whisper. He hadn’t known that was what he was going to say, indeed his thoughts were so muddled in his head he was amazed he could give voice to any of them.
“I – ”
“How could you?” he repeated, his voice harder this time as his blood thundered through his veins. “How could you do this?”
“I didn’t mean – ”
“Hundreds dead! Houses destroyed, entire parts of the castle ruined, people living in terror night after night, fearing for their lives, their loved ones, and all because of you!”
His head was pounding, his mouth was dry, and anger ignited him so forcefully he could feel it coursing through his blood. He needed answers. He needed to know how Merlin could have done this, how he had been so wrong to place such trust in someone he thought would never betray him.
“I had no choice. Arthur, please believe me, I – ”
“Believe you?” Arthur echoed incredulously. “Believe you? How on earth am I supposed to believe anything you say ever again? I trusted you, Merlin, and you betrayed me! You’ve looked me in the eyes and lied to me time and time again. I don’t know who you are.”
“Don’t say that,” Merlin pleaded.
“I can’t look at you right now.”
“Arthur – ”
“No,” Arthur said with a firm shake of his head. “I can’t, Merlin. Don’t make me or you’ll regret it.”
He barely registered the walk back to the citadel, nor did he pay much attention to the questions his father asked. He only assured him that the dragon had been dealt with and was no longer a threat to Camelot and her people, before he escaped to his chambers and slammed the doors closed behind him.
He couldn’t make sense of anything. It was all too jumbled, too unreal. How had Merlin managed to free the dragon and why on earth would he want to do such a thing? More troubling still was the notion that he’d apparently been visiting the damn beast since he’d arrived in Camelot, and those mentions of a destiny made Arthur’s skin prickle for reasons he didn’t want to examine.
Merlin had lied to him. He’d known Merlin kept things from him, but he had largely believed they were trivial things, like sloping off to the tavern and forgetting to do half the chores he was meant to do. Not this…never could he have imagined this.
He wrenched off his armour and chucked it in the corner of the room, sloshing some water in a bowl and washing away the grime and blood that covered him. He scrubbed until his skin was raw then gazed down at the filthy water as though he might divine some answers from it. He felt weary to the bone, indeed he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept, and the events of the past week threatened to overwhelm him completely.
He looked up with a frown. It had been only hours ago that he had stood in these very chambers with Merlin while he had declared that he would go shoulder-to-shoulder with him to face the dragon. Arthur had looked at him full of wonder, full of gratitude, unable to believe he had such a person in his life. Part of him knew he should have forbidden Merlin from going, but he was too selfish; he needed Merlin too much to do without him.
And there was the crux of the matter. Arthur needed him. He had always needed him. Merlin had been the one constant in his life for the last two years, and he struggled to remember a time without him. From the opening of the curtains first thing in the morning to the goodnight bidden with a gentle smile in the evening, Merlin was always with him, and Arthur had come to rely on that.
He pulled on a fresh shirt and glanced around the room to see if there was a decanter of wine, but none was to be found. With a defeated sigh, he went over to the doors to summon a servant, pulling them open and finding Merlin on the other side, his hand poised to knock.
“No,” Arthur bit out. “I didn’t send for you. I don’t want to see you.”
A glint appeared in Merlin’s eye and a flush spread over his pale cheeks as he braced himself and said, “Tough.”
He pushed past Arthur into the room and Arthur stared at him dumbfounded for a moment before he closed the door and said angrily, “You can’t just barge in here. I’m not ready to talk to you yet.”
“Well I’m not waiting around for you to decided when you’ll deign to talk to me. I’m not a puppet you can play with when it suits you.”
“How dare you?” Arthur breathed in shock. “How dare you be the one who’s angry after all you’ve done?”
“I have so much to be angry about, Arthur!” Merlin shouted, taking Arthur aback with the force of it. “You have no idea, no idea how much I…how much I’m keeping in here,” he said, thumping his chest. “Sometimes I’m surprised I don’t break with the force of it.”
“Then tell me,” Arthur said, moving closer, feeling his anger boil just beneath the surface. “Tell me all the things you’ve kept hidden from me. Tell me all the lies you’ve told. Tell me who the hell you are, because I’m wondering if I ever knew you at all.”
“I – ”
“You released that thing, that monster. You let it loose and it nearly destroyed Camelot.”
“I know! I hate myself for it, Arthur. I saw what he did; I saw the devastation, I heard the screams. I will never forgive myself for the lives that were lost, and what happened will haunt me for the rest of my days.”
“Then why do it, Merlin?” Arthur asked, the tension radiating through his body and making his muscles ache. “Help me understand because I’m really struggling.”
Merlin took a breath that rattled his whole body and averted his eyes, staring at a point beyond Arthur, looking every inch as tired as Arthur felt. “To explain it…I’d have to tell you everything,” he said eventually, his voice sounding strange and faraway.
“Well that would be rather novel, Merlin. Perhaps it’s time we did have everything out in the open, mm?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Merlin whispered, his eyes still fixed on that point over Arthur’s shoulder, his expression so unreadable it made Arthur’s skin itch.
“Why?” Arthur asked, unable to stop himself.
“Because once I tell you…everything will change. Once you know the truth in its entirety, you’ll either have to banish me…or kill me.”
“You can’t mean that,” Arthur breathed, horrified at the assertion and the certainty with which it was said.
“Oh, I do,” Merlin said, finally allowing his eyes to meet Arthur’s, and Arthur recoiled at the sorrow he saw there, at the look of total surrender in Merlin’s expression.
He suddenly didn’t want to know, he didn’t want to be party to any truth that would see Merlin torn from his side. He didn’t want to hear whatever confession might fall from those lips and have his world come crashing down around him for the second time that night. He wanted to be selfish, to tell Merlin to keep his silence and to go back to the way things had always been between them, but the box had been opened now and there was no way of closing it.
He met Merlin’s eyes and felt his nails digging into his skin where he was clenching his fists tightly. He wished he could stop time and let them just be Arthur and Merlin for a few more minutes before everything changed and they would find themselves as strangers.
Merlin took another shuddering breath and Arthur felt bile rise in the back of his throat. He clenched his fists tighter and resisted the urge to flee as Merlin opened his mouth and uttered the words, “I’m a sorcerer.”
“No,” Arthur whispered, shaking his head. “No you aren’t.”
“Yes I am,” Merlin said through gritted teeth.
“Why are you saying this?”
“Because it’s the bloody truth. Because I’ve been hiding who I really am since I came to this kingdom and I can’t do it anymore. It’s killing me.”
“It’s killing you?” Arthur said, feeling breathless. “You…you’ve lied to me all this time. You’ve wormed your way into this court…into my life…and all the time you’ve been – ”
“I’ve been what, Arthur?” Merlin fired at him, his face twisted in anger. “What have I been besides loyal? What have I done besides save your life time and time again and got nothing but contempt from you for my troubles?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Arthur asked, feeling as though his world was spinning wildly out of control and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Since the day I met you I’ve been saving your life,” Merlin said, his body so taut with tension Arthur imagined he could almost feel it.
“You…you pulled me out of the way of the knife but – ”
“That’s the first instance of many, Arthur. Every threat you’ve ever faced, everyone who’s ever wished you harm, I’ve fought and dispatched. The only reason you’re alive today is because of me.”
“I won’t listen to this,” Arthur said, his skin feeling hot and a horrible tension spreading from his jaw that made his teeth ache.
“You haven’t got a choice.”
“Get out. Get out of my rooms, get out of my sight. I don’t want to breathe the same air as you.”
“Arthur – ”
“I mean it, Merlin. I can’t even look at you right now, and I won’t be held responsible for what I might do if you stay here.”
Merlin’s brow creased and he took a step back, looking at Arthur as though he couldn’t comprehend what he’d just said. “You’d never hurt me,” he said in a whisper that Arthur was certain would haunt him for the rest of his life.
“Don’t test me,” Arthur said, his voice low.
Merlin looked at him, his eyes searing Arthur painfully, before he said in a voice that shook, “Maybe I never knew you either.”
They stayed suspended for a moment, the tension vibrating between them, and Arthur felt that something inside himself had broken beyond repair. Eventually something seemed to snap in Merlin, and he pushed past Arthur, sending him stumbling as he left the room and slammed the door behind him, the silverware on the table rattling with the force of it.
Arthur let out a slow breath and staggered towards the bed, sitting on the end of it and letting his head fall into his hands. The word “sorcerer” was ringing in his head, and threatening to tip him over a ledge he hadn’t even been aware he’d been standing on.
Had his whole life with Merlin, the very relationship he thought he’d had with the man, been so tenuous? Had he really shared the last couple of years of his life with a stranger? It made his heart ache to think that the one person who had understood him so profoundly, who had walked into his life and turned it on its head, had betrayed him so cruelly.
There was something, though, something that was also turning around in his mind, that was fighting against this hideous revelation to try and set things right again. He heard Merlin’s voice ringing in his head, turned the words over and over again, and couldn’t block out what they might mean.
You tried to destroy the one person I care for most in this whole damn kingdom, the one person I would give my life to protect.
But what did it matter? What did it matter if Merlin cared for him…if he cared for Merlin in turn? What did it matter that the last few months had seen them grow closer, that Arthur felt barely anything when he thought of Gwen’s feelings for Lancelot and instead found himself considering Merlin’s smiles and the colour of his eyes?
All of that now seemed reduced to ash in the wake of Merlin’s devastating revelation. The man had magic and had been by his side for two years, concealing the fact, concealing who he really was and hoodwinking Arthur into believing he was something he wasn’t.
And yet.
He would be lying if he said everything he had witnessed that night had killed his feelings completely. It was still Merlin: still Merlin who was sometimes the only person who could wrestle a smile from him, the only person who seemed to know his thoughts better than he did, and the only person who had ever managed to make Arthur feel that he wasn’t alone.
If it hadn’t been for Merlin, his father would be dead by his own hand. He recalled the moment, his sword pinned to his father’s chest, his blood thundering through his veins, and Merlin’s voice suddenly cutting through the miasma of grief. It had grounded him, anchored him, and he’d listened as Merlin had talked him down from killing Uther. No one else would have been able to reach him in that moment, no one would have been able to talk him round, and it had been a testament to how close they’d become that Merlin was able to do so.
How could he lose that? How could he forfeit having Merlin by his side day after day? He needed his snide comments, his acerbic insults, his shared looks that let Arthur know that he also privately agreed the person they were dealing with was a moron. He needed Merlin’s gentle touches, his soft smiles, his warm company. He needed them more than he’d ever realised, and to suddenly be confronted with their loss was more than he could handle.
He'd reacted badly. He’d made threats he hadn’t meant and refused to listen to anything Merlin had to say, despite there being so much that clearly needed to be aired. He’d been so angry, and he still was, was still confused and hurt, but all that was now being overridden by the very real threat that he was about to lose the person who had somehow lodged himself in his heart and couldn’t be removed.
He pushed himself off the bed and left his chambers, walking swiftly through the corridors and ignoring everyone who crossed his path. He made his way quickly to the physician’s tower and knocked hard on the door, nerves assaulting him. There was no answer, so he opened the door to find the main chamber empty, his eyes going to Merlin’s bedroom door, which was slightly ajar.
Gathering his courage, he moved through the room and up the small staircase, pushing the door aside and stopping short when he found Merlin stuffing things into a bag.
“What are you doing?” he breathed, and Merlin jumped in shock and paused his actions.
“What does it look like?” he replied, recovering himself and stuffing a shirt into the bag haphazardly.
“You’re leaving?”
“I thought it best before you decided to stick me on a pyre.”
“You truly think I would?” Arthur asked, feeling sick at the notion.
Merlin gave him a hard look and said, “You just threw me out of your chambers because you didn’t trust yourself not to hurt me. Forgive me if I believe you’d happily lead me to my death.”
“I was angry. Surely you know that I’d cut off my own arm before I hurt you,” Arthur said, hoping Merlin could see how much he meant it.
“Doesn’t matter,” Merlin said with a sniff. “Things have been said, things we can’t undo. It’s best if I go.”
“You can’t leave.”
“I can’t stay! I was a fool to think I ever could. I was an idiot to think that this wouldn’t all blow up in my face eventually. I’m a sorcerer living in a kingdom that denies my very right to exist. I should have turned around the moment I got here. I should have gone and found somewhere that wouldn’t have been so bloody dangerous for me.”
“Why didn’t you?” Arthur asked, genuinely wondering why Merlin hadn’t turned tail the second he had realised what peril Camelot held for him.
Merlin looked at him, his jaw clenched tightly, his expression shuttered. “Someone changed my mind,” he said tersely.
Arthur swallowed around the lump in his throat and said, “The dragon?”
“Yes, the bloody dragon,” Merlin spat bitterly. “He filled my head with nonsense about destinies and duty. He convinced me that I had a purpose, that my magic was meant to serve some higher cause. But all it’s brought me is misery.”
Arthur stayed quiet, not knowing what to say and feeling deeply uncomfortable at the notion that there was some great destiny involving him that had governed Merlin’s thoughts and deeds for the past two years.
Merlin looked at him and for the first time Arthur could see how tired he looked. It was a tiredness that looked as though it went all the way to his bones, a tiredness that looked as though it might overwhelm him at any moment, and Arthur’s body ached to reach out and comfort him.
“I lost my father today,” Merlin said, his voice hollow and flat, his eyes red-rimmed and his face ashen.
“Your father?” Arthur echoed. “But…I thought you’d never met him.”
“I hadn’t…until yesterday,” Merlin said with a heavy sigh.
“I don’t….Oh…Balinor,” Arthur said, the pieces finally clicking into place. Merlin nodded, wrapping his arms around his waist, and Arthur’s heart broke for him. Suddenly Merlin's tears made sense, and he couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to have been reunited with his father, only to lose him almost immediately after.
“I held him in my arms and watched him die. Only a few hours earlier he’d called me son and I called him Father. Then I had to bury him in a shallow grave and pretend that my heart wasn’t broken.”
“Merlin – ”
“I had to come back here and watch you prepare to face the dragon, knowing that it was all my fault. If I’d never set him free, Camelot wouldn’t have suffered so terribly, I wouldn’t have been responsible for the worst calamity in decades. If I’d never set him free, my father would still be alive,” he said, his voice catching as a hideous expression crossed his face and he bowed his head, his shoulders hunched.
There was nothing in the world at that moment that could have prevented Arthur from moving closer, and he did so cautiously, his chest tight as Merlin’s pain seeped into it. He reached out, his hand shaking, and slid his fingers tentatively beneath Merlin’s chin. He tilted his head gently upwards, and his heart clenched to see tears in Merlin’s eyes.
He slowly moved his fingers in a gentle caress along the sharp line of Merlin’s jaw, his heart feeling as though it might pound out of his chest at any moment, his mouth horribly dry. Merlin was looking at him with such uncertainty, his expression so openly vulnerable that Arthur was compelled to slide his hand around the back of Merlin’s neck and pull him gently into his hold.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against Merlin's temple. His hand was gentle against Merlin’s neck while his other settled in the small of his back, holding him close as he felt Merlin’s hands press against his chest. “I’m sorry for all you’ve suffered.”
“It’s all my own doing,” Merlin whispered brokenly into Arthur’s shoulder. “I have no one to blame but myself.”
“Merlin – ”
“I lied to you, Arthur. I lied to you for years.”
“I know,” Arthur said softly, his hand moving slowly upwards to cradle Merlin’s head, his fingers sliding through the black hair as his nose pressed against Merlin’s skin.
“I’ll leave, I’ll – ”
“I wouldn’t be able to bear it, Merlin,” Arthur confessed, his voice catching in his throat. “I can’t…I can’t lose you.”
He felt Merlin’s hands clench in the fabric of his shirt as he took a shuddering breath, the air hot against Arthur’s neck. “You don’t want me to go?” Merlin asked, his voice small and sounding so unlike him it made Arthur uncomfortable to hear it.
“Of course I don’t. Merlin…I…Do you really think I could ever do without you?”
“You’d find another servant,” Merlin said, the heat from his hands seeping through to Arthur’s chest.
“God, Merlin,” Arthur said with a frustrated sigh, his fingers tightening in Merlin’s hair. “Do you really think that’s all you are to me? Do you think you’d be so easily replaced?”
He pulled back, his hand still holding the back of Merlin’s head while the other moved a little further up his back, ensuring that their bodies stayed close. “Does a man hold his servant like this?” Arthur asked in little more than a whisper. “Does a man spend all his time with someone who’s nothing more than the hired help? Does a man…does a man ache to be near someone who means nothing to him?”
“Arthur,” Merlin said, his voice quivering, his eyes searching Arthur’s, and Arthur wondered if he was as easily read as he felt himself to be.
“Merlin…” His voice died in his throat and he moved his hand to let his thumb trace the swollen plumpness of Merlin’s bottom lip.
“Don’t,” Merlin said in a whisper. “Don’t do it if you don’t mean it.”
Arthur held his gaze for a long, protracted moment before he slid his hand up to Merlin’s neck and pulled him gently forward. “I mean it,” Arthur vowed quietly, before he tilted his head and pressed his lips gently to Merlin’s. His hand cradled the back of Merlin’s neck tenderly, while he felt Merlin’s hands slide up to his shoulders, their hold tentative at first until Arthur pulled him closer.
He felt long fingers grip him tightly as his own hand sat hotly against Merlin’s back, keeping them pressed against one another. He’d spent hours imagining this moment, despite whatever denials he’d made to himself otherwise, and it was nothing like the image he’d conjured in his mind.
It was soft and tentative where he’d imagined it would be firm and assured. It was slow, rather than frenzied, and Arthur found himself lost in the tenderness of it. Merlin’s lips were softer than they had any right to be, and his nose kept nudging Arthur’s cheek in a way that should have been irritating, but instead felt like a caress.
“I mean it, Merlin,” he whispered as he broke away gently, pressing his forehead to Merlin’s and keeping his eyes closed, clinging to the moment for a little longer before reality came and tore it away from him.
He felt gentle fingers brush his jaw, and he opened his eyes and pulled back as Merlin moved his hand to rest softly against his cheek. He leant into the touch and splayed his hand against Merlin’s back, wanting to be in as much contact with him as he could.
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, his voice strained and cracked. “I’m sorry I lied to you, I – ”
“I understand,” Arthur said quietly, his body humming at having Merlin in his embrace, and wanting desperately to keep him there. “I don’t like it, and no doubt there will difficult conversations, but…”
“But?” Merlin asked cautiously.
“I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you. I…I need you, Merlin…for more than just saving my life.”
Merlin gave a soft laugh and moved his hand up to gently brush the hair from Arthur’s forehead, Arthur’s skin tingling at the touch. “Where do we go from here?” he asked, looking half-afraid of the answer.
“I don’t know,” Arthur answered honestly. “For now, I’m tired and too overwhelmed to think about anything properly.
Merlin nodded, looking a little disappointed and removed his hand, but Arthur caught it, twining their fingers together and saying, “Lie with me.”
“I – ”
“Just to sleep,” Arthur said with a gentle smile. “I don’t think either of us is ready for anything else just yet.”
Merlin returned the smile, the action so achingly charming that Arthur took half a second to reconsider his assertion before they moved to the bed. Merlin chucked the bag aside, and Arthur felt relief claw at him that he’d found Merlin in time and managed to stop him from leaving. It didn’t bear thinking about to consider what might have happened otherwise.
They settled themselves on the small bed, and Merlin arranged himself in Arthur’s arms and shiftes to get comfortable. Arthur lay back against the thin mattress, hardly bothered about the complete lack of luxury, or the fact he could feel straw digging into him from the lumpy thing that had the audacity to call itself a pillow.
Merlin tucked his head beneath Arthur’s chin, and Arthur closed his eyes as he welcomed the weight of Merlin against his chest, their legs twining together as they tried to get as close as possible. There was an odd kind of confession on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back and squashed the urge down, setting it aside for a better time. In that moment, all he wanted was to keep Merlin close and to revel in the feeling of having him in his arms.
“Will you still be here in the morning?” Merlin whispered into the silence.
“Yes,” Arthur said quietly. “And we can face tomorrow together.”