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“That will be all, Merlin.” Arthur relaxed back into his pillows with a sigh, ready for a good night’s sleep.
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “No, sire.”
Arthur spluttered. “That’s not what I – what do you mean ‘no’?”
“N. O. It’s a very common word, surely even with your privileged upbringing, you would have heard it at least once.”
“Not from a servant who has been given a clear dismissal,” Arthur growled.
Merlin folded his arms. “I’m not leaving.”
Arthur sighed. He recognised the stubborn set to Merlin’s jaw and knew he wouldn’t budge easily. “I am sure I will regret asking this, but why not?”
“Because-” Merlin looked around the room, apparently seeking inspiration for a bald-faced lie, “because your tunic still needs mending.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You fixed it this morning.”
“Right. But, ah, the hem of your cloak is getting a bit ragged, you won’t look very kingly trailing all those loose threads behind you...”
“My cloak was replaced with a new one last week.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, your armour could do with another polish.”
“You spent two hours today polishing it! My opponents could use it for a mirror!”
“Okay, but there’s still that speech I should look over-”
“You have reviewed it three times.”
“-and the windows are looking a bit smudged-”
“Birds will be crashing into the glass at this rate!”
“-the fireplace needs to be swept out-”
“While the embers are still burning?”
“-and I think I forgot to plump your pillows properly earlier-”
“MERLIN!”
Mercifully, the babble ceased, and Merlin had the decency to look at least slightly abashed.
“There is no job that needs to be done that cannot wait until tomorrow. It has been a long day and I am going to bed. I order you to do the same.”
“No, sire.”
If there had been a goblet at hand, Arthur would have thrown it at his head. “Merlin.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry. “But I am staying right here. You can go to sleep; I promise I’ll be quiet.”
“How can I possibly sleep with you staring at me?!”
“I’m not staring at you. I’m watching over you. There’s a difference.”
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to draw on every ounce of patience he possessed. “Merlin, have you forgotten that there are armed guards outside my door?”
“Have you forgotten that you’ve nearly been killed five times in the past week?”
“I’m not sure it’s been quite that many-”
“First, it was the bandits on patrol.” Merlin began listing them off on his fingers.
“That hardly counts, we face bandits all the time.”
“One nearly caved your skull in with a mace!”
“He tripped over a tree root and knocked himself out, that’s not exactly what I would consider a life-threatening situation.”
“Then!” Merlin continued, counting off a second finger as if he hadn’t listened to a word Arthur said. “There was the assassin in the market square.”
Arthur scoffed. “Clearly not a very good one. He knocked a stand of melons over onto himself before he could even try to throw his poisoned knives at me.”
Merlin was undeterred. “A few hours after that, an arrow nearly skewered you at the banquet-”
“It sailed right past my chair, he was a terrible shot.”
“The next day, you received a cursed gift from an anonymous well-wisher.”
“We don’t know for sure that it was cursed. Gaius claims to have found a few strange symbols on the broken shards of pottery, but I half suspect he was making it up to get you out of trouble for dropping a perfectly good vase.”
Merlin ploughed ahead. “And then yesterday, you were challenged to a duel and were almost beheaded!”
Arthur swallowed, remembering the terror of being flat on his back with the axe blade arcing towards his bare throat, too winded to move, believing the horrified gasp from the crowd would be the last thing he ever heard. “That was a close one, I’ll grant you that. But the axe handle broke and I dispatched the ruffian in short order.” He huffed a laugh. “Saved by shoddy craftsmanship.”
“Arthur, someone is trying to kill you.”
“They’re not trying very hard. If these attempts are the best they can do, then I have nothing to worry about.”
“You’ve been lucky so far, but next time-”
“I’ll be fine, Merlin, quit being such a worry-wart.”
“You’re the King of Camelot, I can’t- we can’t afford to lose you!”
“Precisely. I’m the King. Regular attempts on my life are just part of the deal, I’m afraid.”
“Well, that settles it, then. I’m never letting you out of my sight.”
“Merlin.”
“I’m serious!”
“I can hear that. But you can’t seriously think you’ll be any better at protecting me than the armed guards I have stationed throughout the castle.”
“You’d be surprised!” His chest heaved with the vehemence of his statement.
Merlin was certainly the most passionate man in his employ, but the point remained that he was just one skinny, unarmed manservant. “Go to bed, Merlin,” Arthur said gently. “I promise to still be alive and kicking when you wake up.”
“I am not leaving you here alone to be murdered in your sleep!”
Merlin started pacing, his agitation clear in every step as he marched to the window, glared out at the silent courtyard as though it had personally offended him, then turned on his heel and stormed over to check that the servant’s entrance was locked, before striding onwards to test the latch of the main door. Arthur watched in disbelief as his servant repeated the whole cycle, over and over again, with absolutely no sign that he intended to stop any time soon.
“Merlin. Merlin.”
Merlin whirled on him. “I said no! Dock my pay, threaten to throw me in the stocks for a week, make me clean the dirty socks of the entire army, I don’t care! I won’t leave your side.”
“Merlin, what has gotten into you?”
He flung his arms in the air. “Maybe I don’t want you dead, is that so crazy?”
Based on the manic look in his fever-bright eyes, Arthur wasn’t going to rule crazy out.
“I’m not going to die.”
“No, you’re not,” Merlin said fiercely. “Not while I have any say in the matter. That’s why I’m staying right here.”
“Merlin, you can’t stand guard over me every hour of every day.”
“Watch me.”
“You need to sleep. Look at yourself, you’re exhausted.”
“I’m not.”
“You look like you’re about to fall over.” He hadn’t noticed before, but Merlin had deep dark circles under his eyes and he was awfully pale. “Have you even slept at all this week?”
Merlin’s expression was sullen. “A little. Not really. But that doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters! I can’t have my manservant running himself into the ground.”
“And I can’t let you die!” Tears leapt to his eyes and Merlin turned away, shoulders stiffening as though he expected Arthur to laugh at him.
Normally, Arthur would have. He was never very comfortable with displays of emotion. But he had never seen Merlin so distressed before, either, and he found he couldn’t muster the usual insults.
He climbed out of bed and padded softly over to his servant.
“I’m safe, Merlin. I’m right here. Maybe there were five attempts on my life this week, but I don’t have so much as a scratch on me.” He spread his arms. “See for yourself.”
Merlin turned slowly, and his gaze ran critically over Arthur’s bare torso.
It was hardly the first time Merlin had seen him with his shirt off, so there was absolutely no reason for Arthur’s heart to beat faster or for a flush to creep up his neck.
“You don’t have to ogle me, Merlin. Just- quit your fretting, alright?”
Solemn blue eyes rose to meet his. “I can’t help it. I don’t expect you to understand-”
“Is this the part where you tell me you ‘care a hell of a lot’ about my armour?” Arthur jibed, even as he felt a rush of warmth at the memory of his servant declaring his intention to face a dragon with him.
“I care about you,” Merlin said bluntly.
Arthur gaped like a fish. He couldn’t believe Merlin had come right out and said it.
“I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, and I know you don’t feel the same way, but I consider you my best friend. You are more important to me than anything, and I would rather die myself than lose you.” His voice choked a little on the words, but his chin jutted out, as though he was daring Arthur to judge or belittle him.
“Merlin, you think I don’t- You’re the only true friend I have. I know I have the respect of my subjects and the loyalty of my knights, but you – I’ve never met anyone like you before. No one has ever cared for me the way you do.”
“Then let me,” Merlin whispered. “Please, Arthur.”
Arthur became aware, then, of how close they were standing. But for some reason, he didn’t want to move away.
“You can stay,” he relented, and he saw the relief sweep over Merlin’s features. “But I won’t have you losing any more sleep over me.”
Merlin frowned.
“Come here,” Arthur said, and thought nothing of manhandling Merlin as he always did, taking the younger man by the upper arms (since when did he have such defined biceps?) and manoeuvring him across the room until he was next to the bed. “Boots off, I won’t have you soiling the sheets.”
“Arthur, what-?”
“You want to stay, I want you to get some proper rest, this is the logical solution. Take your shirt off. Neckerchief, too; knowing you, you’ll manage to choke yourself in your sleep otherwise.”
“Logical?” Merlin squeaked. Apparently he had lost all capacity for coherent thought or action, and Arthur found their roles reversing as he helped his servant remove his tunic.
“Yes, Merlin, do keep up.” He pressed down on Merlin’s bared shoulders (he’d always thought the man was skinny, but it seemed he’d bulked up a bit recently) until he was sitting on the bed and then tugged off his boots, tossing them somewhere behind him.
“Arthur, what are you doing?”
“Your job, apparently,” Arthur huffed. He tugged the covers out from under Merlin and tumbled him onto the mattress.
Startled blue eyes blinked up at him, and his hair was an endearingly tousled mess against the pillows. Arthur’s gaze tracked down his surprisingly toned chest and firm stomach before jerking back to his face.
“You need to eat more,” he said. “Budge over.”
Merlin scooted sideways, almost involuntarily. Arthur climbed in next to him and flung the covers over them both.
“There. Now if anyone tries to kill me, you can fight them off.” Arthur was joking, of course – he had his sword under his bed and if anyone broke in, he would be the one doing all the fighting, but Merlin’s girlish screams would at least be useful as a wake-up call.
But Merlin’s tone was deadly serious as he replied, “I’ll die before I let any harm come to you.”
Arthur knew he was telling the truth, and it made something in his heart clench. “Come here.” He pulled Merlin in close and wrapped his arms around him. “For warmth,” he explained.
Merlin hummed against his chest. “I can hear your heart beating,” he murmured.
Arthur kept his voice just as low, cherishing the intimacy of the moment. “Do you believe me now? I’m perfectly safe.”
“I’m going to keep it that way,” Merlin swore, snuggling in closer. He closed his eyes and the tension slipped out of him. Soon he was fast asleep.
Arthur pressed a kiss to the top of his head. I love you, he thought.
ooOOoo
Arthur drifted in a bubble of contentment, comfortably slumbering with Merlin’s warmth curled against him.
The peace was decimated by the sound of shattering glass and a battle cry.
Arthur rolled out of bed and came up with his sword in hand, ready to confront the invader.
Merlin was faster. “Forþ fleoge!”
The dark-robed figure was slammed back against the stone wall and fell to the ground.
Gold faded from Merlin’s eyes. He looked to his King with a tangled mix of fear and regret. “Arthur...”
“Watch out!” Arthur tackled Merlin to the floor and a blast of fire narrowly missed them.
Merlin twisted beneath him and flung out his hands, gold flaring once more. “Hleap on bæc!”
The intruder grunted with the force of the impact, but it only slowed him down for a moment. He spat out another spell, sending a ball of flame directly towards them.
With strength he shouldn’t have had, Merlin shoved Arthur under the bed and caught the fire with his bare hands. A sharp snap of “Akwele!” sent the blaze hurtling back to its caster. It struck the centre of his chest and his robes ignited.
The sorcerer squawked out a spell to douse the flames with water conjured from nowhere.
Arthur rolled out from the other side of the bed, sword grasped tightly, intending to use the moment of distraction to his advantage.
He didn’t have to.
Merlin stormed across the room, and his once harmless-seeming servant was suddenly danger personified.
The man scrambled up to meet him, a crystal clenched tightly in his fists. He started to chant and it began to glow an ominous purple.
“Stop,” Merlin said, snatching the crystal out of his grasp and crushing it to dust. There was a burst of power, like the crack of lighting, but Merlin didn’t even flinch.
“King Arthur must die,” the man blurted. “We’re kin, help me-“
“King Arthur is under my protection,” Merlin snarled. “I am Emrys – do you know that name?”
The man paled drastically and dropped into a bow. His hood fell back and Arthur noticed a druid tattoo at the base of his neck. “My lord Emrys. I heard rumours, but I did not believe...” He cast a glance at Arthur. “How can this man be the one spoken of in prophecy? He is no friend to magic.”
“I am magic,” Merlin said. Fierce. Proud. “And Arthur is my friend.” His declaration exuded confidence, but there was something fragile in his gaze as he locked eyes with his King.
Were they friends? Arthur wasn’t sure. His world had been turned entirely on its head.
Merlin had magic. Merlin had lied to him.
Merlin had also sworn to protect him, and he was keeping that promise, even though by Camelot’s laws it could cost him his life.
I would rather die myself than lose you.
Arthur tried to imagine sentencing Merlin to death, but the very idea just filled him with revulsion.
Magic or not, liar or not, Arthur could never watch Merlin burn.
He couldn’t live without him.
“This explains a lot,” he said, the words wandering out of their own accord. As he said them, he realised how true they were; so many strange occurrences, bizarre coincidences, and unlikely victories against impossible odds suddenly made a lot more sense.
Arthur groaned as he realised how stupidly oblivious he had been. “Of course you have magic. You weren’t even subtle about it – you literally announced it at court once!”
Merlin’s cheeks heated with embarrassment.
“I’m an idiot,” Arthur said. “No, you’re an idiot! Why on earth would you come to live in the heart of Camelot and take a job as a servant, working for the man who tried to eradicate all people like you?”
“Good question,” the druid muttered.
Merlin shrugged a little. “Destiny?”
“Destiny,” Arthur repeated.
“You’re destined to become the greatest King that Camelot has ever known.” Merlin’s expression was open and earnest, his words passionate. Arthur could tell he had complete and utter faith in what he was saying. “It has long been foretold that you will unite the lands of Albion and restore magic to the realm.”
Arthur stared at him. “And you?”
Merlin smiled. “I’m destined to serve you.”
Arthur frowned. “That can’t be right. With the power you have, you could be anyone, do anything, and you’re meant to be a servant?”
“Actually,” the druid interjected, “if you really are The Once and Future King, then Emrys is meant to stand at your right hand as you bring about the Golden Age of Albion.”
Merlin looked a little stunned at that.
A strange feeling spread through Arthur’s chest. After a few moments, he realised what it was.
Joy.
Pure, unadulterated joy.
Because when he invited Merlin to stay, he had wanted it to be forever. And now he knew that it could be.
Destiny had brought them together, and nothing was going to tear them apart.
“Merlin, come here. I have something very important to tell you.”
Merlin cast a glance towards the druid, who held up his hands in a clear gesture of surrender, before doing as he was beckoned. “Sire?”
Arthur tried to think of how he could express everything in a succinct and elegant way. Kingly. Regal.
Merlin’s eyes were very blue. And he had perfect bow-shaped lips that looked very soft and inviting, particularly when they parted like that as Merlin made to ask another question.
In the end, it wasn’t even a conscious decision. Arthur acted on impulse, on instinct. Merlin was here and Merlin was his and Arthur loved him.
Arthur pulled Merlin flush against him and pressed their lips together. Merlin’s words were muffled against his mouth, but they shifted to a moan as he melted into Arthur’s embrace. He opened up willingly to the swipe of Arthur’s tongue and they tangled together in a perfect dance.
A cough came from behind them.
Arthur and Merlin broke apart. Merlin’s face was flushed, his lips were deliciously slick, and his eyes shone. It took him a few moments to break his gaze away from Arthur to frown forebodingly at the druid.
“Are you still planning to kill Arthur?”
His eyes widened with fear, and he was quick to reassure them. “No! No, of course not! I was misguided, Arthur is clearly not our enemy, I won’t make that mistake again.”
“See that you don’t.” It was very clearly a threat, backed with incredible power.
The man nodded frantically. “Yes, Lord Emrys.”
Merlin looked back to Arthur. “Do we need to have him arrested?”
Trying to kill the King was treason of the highest order, and punishable by death. But then, so was magic. And Arthur was responsible for the deaths of many of this man’s kin.
“No,” Arthur said.
Both Merlin and the druid visibly relaxed.
“Return to your people. Tell them I would like to meet to discuss terms for a new treaty and a change to Camelot’s laws.”
Merlin beamed at him, and the man bowed his head. “Yes, sire.”
“Tell them also that King Arthur is defended, and I will brook no further attempts on his life,” Merlin added.
“Of course, Lord Emrys.”
“If you see Morgana, or know of a way to contact her, let her know that I wish to negotiate for a peace between us. This land has seen enough bloodshed.”
“I agree, sire. It shall be as you say.”
The man bowed again and scurried towards the window, where a grappling hook was still lodged in the frame. As he scaled back down the wall, Merlin sighed.
“I’m setting up wards first thing in the morning. I am really sick of people trying to kill you.”
“My great protector,” Arthur murmured wonderingly, drawing Merlin in close. “It’s you, isn’t it? My guardian angel. It’s always been you.”
“I would never let anything happen to you, Arthur.”
“Mm.” Arthur slid one hand into Merlin’s hair and settled the other at his waist. “There was something I needed to tell you.”
Merlin’s gaze flickered to his lips. “Yes, sire?”
Arthur leaned in, breath ghosting across Merlin’s skin, allowing just the slightest brush of contact between them before withdrawing.
He waited for Merlin to open his eyes.
“I love you. And I want to court you, if you’ll let me.”
Merlin seemed to be battling with a maelstrom of emotions. “But-”
Arthur pressed a finger against his lips. “Hush.” He knew what Merlin would say – there was a myriad of reasons why they shouldn’t be together.
But there was one very good reason why they should.
“I love you,” he repeated. “Do you love me?”
Merlin didn’t hesitate for even a moment. “You know I do.” There were tears clinging to his lashes. “You’re everything.”
“Then?”
“This is crazy,” Merlin whispered. “But yes. I’m in love with you, Arthur Pendragon. So yes to anything, everything, all of it. Just yes.”
“Good.” Arthur closed the space between them, and the joining of their lips was like sunshine, like birdsong. Like the beginning of a new day.
Behind them, the dawn rose, and light flooded through the window, bathing the room in a golden glow.
It was more than a kiss. It was destinies aligning and their promised future finally coming into focus. It was two halves being made whole.
It was Merlin and Arthur, and it was forever.