Archive of Our Own

The journey back to Merlin’s cave took the rest of the day. They spent the long hours talking about what Arthur had been up to in Camelot besides learning the ancient language.

“The kingdom has been peaceful overall, but we’ve had our share of problems,” Arthur said. “There was an outbreak of an unknown illness a fortnight ago that had Gaius more worried than I’ve seen him in a while. And there was the threat of war at one point when Sir Gwaine accidentally bed the daughter of a king.” Arthur chuckled at the memory. “But all in all it’s been rather dull. I spent most of my time training the Knights and learning Dragon Tongue.”

Merlin, who had only heard frightening tales of the Knights, inquired after them nervously.

“The Knights,” he began. “Are they nice?”

Arthur looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “Worried what they’ll think of you?”

“More worried that they will try to kill me.”

“They’d never disobey their king.” Arthur’s voice took on a strained tone and Merlin felt Arthur’s muscles tense in their shared saddle. “They’d never lay so much as a finger on you without my permission.”

“That is good to know. I am scare of them,” Merlin admitted.

“Don’t worry, Merlin.” Arthur patted the bony knee beside his own. “The people of Camelot are good. You’ll never be in any danger.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Will you be in danger?”

“I’m the king. I can hardly expect to be out of harm’s way all the time.”

“Hmmm.”

“What is it?” Arthur glanced over his shoulder to see Merlin contemplating something.

“Nothing,” Merlin replied.

***

The sun went down but Merlin insisted they continue.

“The cave is close. Trust me.”

“If you say so, Merlin. I’m fine but the horse is beat. He’s not used to carrying two people and we’ve pushed him hard today.”

“It will not be long.”

Sure enough, after half an hour of riding, Merlin spotted the entrance to his home. Arthur, used to the bright lights of the city, didn’t see anything in the dark forest but trusted Merlin. He guided the horse based on Merlin’s directions and they  were soon dismounting and unpacking.

Everything was just as Merlin had left it, albeit a bit dusty. There were indeed spider webs but luckily no rats. Merlin hated rats due to a rather emotionally scarring event during his childhood, and since then had made sure he never saw a rat again.

Merlin lit the fire then ran around tidying the place up while Arthur slumped down against the wall. He was tired, his arse was sore from the day spent riding, and he didn’t understand how Merlin still had so much energy left in him.

He drank from his water pouch as he watched Merlin scurry about, dusting the books, destroying the webs.

“What I don’t get is, why don’t you just use a spell to magically clean everything in one go?” Arthur asked.

Merlin didn’t stop, but answered, “Cannot rely on magic for everything. Father said, ‘A lazy man is not a man at all, but a waste of space.’” He’d switched to Dragon Tongue briefly to quote the old man. “And I do not know if there is a spell for un-dusting.”

“Uh huh. Well, look, why don’t you leave that till tomorrow and come sleep?”

Merlin stopped and looked between both Arthur and the shelf he was cleaning with a hesitant expression. Arthur knew what it was like to get back from a trip and want to make sure everything was in place before finally settling down, but at the same time, it was rather late and the day had been exhausting.

Eventually Merlin’s shoulders sagged and Arthur knew fatigue had won out. Sighing, he pulled his shirt over his head and collapsed onto the familiar stone floor beside the fire. Arthur kicked off his shoes, took off his shirt, and moved next to Merlin. They’d both forgotten how hard the ground was and their muscles protested against the rock, but finally sleep overpowered them.

Merlin woke with a sneeze, which, of course, woke Arthur too.

“I knew I should have finished un-dusting,” Merlin said miserably.

Arthur’s laughter vibrated in his chest but didn’t make any audible noise. “Nothing to stop you now.”

“Yes there is.” Merlin tugged on the arm that was draped across him.

“Right.” Arthur moved it and laughed when Merlin pulled it back into place.

“Not yet. I like this,” he explained.

Arthur sighed and let his eyes close again. “Yeah. This,” rubbing Merlin’s chest. “This is nice.”

Merlin curled his body inward and shifted back so he fit more snugly into Arthur, wrapping the strong arm more tightly over him.

“I wish I could stay like this forever,” he whispered, mostly to himself, but Arthur hummed in agreement.

“But preferably in an actual bed with warm blankets and soft pillows,” the king added.

They stayed like that, breathing in sync, for another ten minutes. Then Merlin sighed and rolled out of Arthur’s embrace. Arthur groaned at the loss of warmth and curled his knees up to his chest. Merlin couldn’t help but smile down affectionately at the king pouting in his sleep.

He wanted to feed the horse but didn’t know what it ate. He settled for giving the creature some water and nibbled on a piece of bread while he finished cleaning up the place.

He had to be sure to eat what little food he’d brought with him from Ealdor sparingly, delicious as it was. He wanted to make it last. Part of him felt like if he still had a bit of their food it was like he was still there. At least he’d always have the neckerchief Rose had given him, and Matthew’s book. Those gifts would last far longer.

Arthur finally rubbed his eyes and woke up fully. Merlin broke off a piece of bread and handed it to him. After he felt enough time had passed for Arthur’s brain to get going, he asked what had been nagging at the back of his head for a while now.

“Arthur, do the Knights know you are here?”

Arthur took a large bite and shook his head.

“Did you tell them why you leave?”

Again, Arthur shook his head, but silenced further questioning with a hand. He swallowed and Merlin’s eyes watched the muscles in the king’s throat absently.

“I told them I was going on a trip for a few days. I ordered them not to follow me. Only if I’m gone for more than a week are they to look for me.”

“They did not ask why or to where you were to go?”

“Of course they asked. That doesn’t mean I told them. I am King, you know.”

Arthur gave him a look that insulted Merlin’s intelligence but Merlin kept on.

“Then you must leave soon?”

“No. I’ve only been away three days.”

“How long did it take you to get to Ealdor?”

Arthur slapped his head. “Shit, you’re right!” He threw the bread back at Merlin, who barely caught it. “I only have two days to get back. And the last thing I need is for the kingdom to know their leader is missing.”

He pulled on his shirt and boots, then as if seeing Merlin for the first time, froze and stared blankly at him.

“Are you coming with me?”

This was it. This was the question Merlin had been waiting for, yet he still didn’t have an answer. This was (possibly) the last chance he would have to go with Arthur and be at his side forever.

“It is…difficult for you to visit me,” Merlin started uncertainly. Arthur nodded, his mouth twitched nearly to a frown. “I may not see you again for many months. I may not kiss you, I may not laugh with you…I may even lose you to someone else.”

“Merlin, I’d never—”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Yes, I will go with you. But can I have some hours to gather my things?”

***

It was probably some sort of magic. Yes, that was it. Magic. That would explain how all the books, maps, carved figures, blankets, and other various odds and ends fit into only three bags.

Arthur was sitting on a very impatient horse when Merlin’s pale face finally broke through the darkness of the cave behind him.

“You’ve got everything?”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure? You don’t need a moment or anything?” Arthur asked as he helped Merlin onto the horse uncertainly.

Merlin just shook his head. “No. I am ready.”

“This is your home we’re leaving Merlin. I understand if—”

“No. Home is with you. I am ready.”

Arthur’s heart swelled up and he swallowed the lump threatening to form in his throat but he nodded.

“Alright. Off we go.” He gave the horse a quick kick and they headed for Camelot.

***

Arthur set a fast pace and Merlin was surprised at how well the horse seemed to be handling the combined weight at this speed. They rode until a little after sunset, then settled down for the night. They woke with the sun and were off again.

Camelot’s tallest towers were visible when they made camp the second night. The next day, the seventh day since Arthur’s departure, they would enter the city.

Though Merlin said little, Arthur saw he was still very nervous.

“Merlin, if there’s anything you’d like to know,” he began. “Anything at all, you should ask now before we get there.”

Merlin bit his lip and didn’t meet Arthur’s eyes across the fire for a while.

“You said I will help the court phys…the physici…Gaius?” Merlin gave up on the word—too many “sh” sounds.

Arthur nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

“That is in the day. At night I will be with you again, yes?”

Arthur didn’t answer the question right away. “You’ll be my manservant. I’ll say I was injured and you tended the wound—which is true—and that as a reward I offered you a job in the palace. Your skills as a healer are only extra benefits. Gaius needs an assistant but you won’t have to aid him all the time,” he assured Merlin. “And as you become more comfortable you’ll have time to yourself.”

That was good to hear. Merlin had wondered if he’d ever have time alone, away from even Arthur. He had a feeling the city would be more than just noisy, that it’d be unbearable at times, much different from the peaceful solitude of the forest. Even Ealdor was quiet. Where in the city he’d be able to find silence he had no idea though.

“So help Gaius and serve you in day, back with you at night?” Merlin asked for clarification.

“Well…” Arthur kicked a stick into the fire. “I think maybe it’d be better if you stayed in Gaius’s chambers at night. He’s got an extra room and—”

“No.”

“Merlin—”

“No!”

“It’s just until—”

“I stay with you.”

“Merlin, let me explain.” Arthur waited to be interrupted again but wasn’t. He continued. “I am the King. Imagine how the kingdom would react if they knew I was involved with a servant.”

“But I am not a servant.”

“You’ll become one tomorrow. And I certainly couldn’t tell them the truth. ‘The noble King of Camelot falls in love with some boy that was raised in a cave.’ Imagine how that would go over.”

Merlin’s brow furrowed. “You say that like it is bad.”

“It is bad, Merlin. It’s even worse than being with a servant. It’s like being with lower than a servant. It’s—it’s—” Arthur threw his arms up in defeat. Merlin stared at the fire mutely and it took a while for Arthur to see the tears silently rolling down his cheeks.

Arthur was up immediately and crossed over to comfort him.

“No!” Merlin shouted, pushing Arthur away. “You are ashamed of me!”

“What?” Arthur replied, hurt. “That’s—that’s not true, Merlin. I just don’t want the people to think—”

“Fuck what the people think.”

The harshness took Arthur off-guard and he took a step back. Merlin had that look in his eyes again. It wasn’t wicked, like when he swore he’d kill the beast all those weeks ago. It was more like the look he had when he first told Arthur about his father. A look of rage caused by pain held barely in check.

Arthur’s stomach twisted at the realisation. This time the expression was his fault. He put that look on Merlin’s face and he could do nothing to make it right.

“I should turn back right now,” Merlin said in Dragon Tongue, too angry to bother with English. “You had me believing this would be fun. That everything would be fine. That Camelot is a nice place. That’d I’d be happy at your side. But you were just lying the whole time. I bet this was all a game to you. Planned right from the moment you found out I had magic. Let’s seduce the boy, why not? Make him trust you, why not? Get him to come to Camelot of his own free will so we can slice off his idiot head, why not? And I believed you! I went against everything my father taught me and trusted a king! How could I have been so stupid?”

At some point Merlin had stood up and backed Arthur against a tree, yelling into his face.

“Your Knights probably know all about me. Probably call me the Idiot Cave-boy or something. Probably just laughing it up over a pint about how great it’ll be when their king gets back with a sorcerer following him like a mouse right into a trap. Agh!”

Merlin’s fist pounded the trunk behind Arthur’s head and the tree snapped in half from the magic released in the punch. Arthur watched the tree fall with wide, frightened eyes and the ground shook when it finally collapsed. Merlin seemed not to notice, only paced back and forth with his hands bent into claws, throat rumbling with angry growls.

The wind suddenly picked up and the fire went out. The leaves whispered anxiously above.

“Merlin—”

“SHUT UP!”

Some invisible force pushed Arthur back through the air and against a tree. He fell unconscious to the ground in a pathetic lump.

Merlin’s anger melted away and he ran to Arthur’s limp body, taking it in his arms.

“Arthur?” He tried to shake the man awake. “Arthur!”

The king didn’t respond. Merlin put a hand to his chest and relaxed a little at the steady rhythm of his beating heart. He pushed the stray strands of blonde hair out of Arthur’s face and rocked back and forth, tears dripping onto his forehead.

“I’m sorry.” Sobs racked his body. “I’m so so sorry, Arthur. I didn’t mean any of the things I said. Just please wake up.”

It took a few moments of relentless crying for Merlin to have a coherent thought. Setting Arthur down gently, he ran to rummage through his bags. After what seemed an eternity he found the book he was looking for, the book of spells that focused on protection magic. There were spells to create shields, spells to slow falls, and yes, spells to heal fatal wounds. Merlin didn’t believe Arthur’s injury to be fatal but he wasn’t taking any chances. He would use the strongest spell he could find.

Merlin flipped through the book, scanning the pages desperately, searching for the right incantation. Finally, he found one that seemed promising.

He placed a hand on Arthur’s damp forehead. “Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare.”

It didn’t work the first time. It never worked the first time. Why couldn’t it just this once work the first time?

He did it again. And again and again and again, until he was yelling it, feeling the magic flow through his veins, and out his fingertips into Arthur’s body.

Arthur sat up with a gasp.

“Arthur!” Merlin wrapped his arms around the king and squeezed the breath out of him. Arthur patted his back uncertainly.

“Merlin?”

“Arthur, I am sorry. I hurt you. I did not—”

“Merlin, it’s alright. I hurt you first. Whatever you did to me, I forgive you.” He reached up and caught Merlin’s tear before it could fall. “I may have been a little…untruthful to you. I didn’t tell you exactly how things would be because I was worried you wouldn’t come. But I could never be ashamed of you Merlin. Of course I want the whole world to know how much I love you. I just need time.”

“I am not worse than a servant?”

“No. Merlin, sometimes I think you’re better than a king.” He smiled. “Sometimes.”

Merlin laughed, and if it came out a bit shaky, Arthur could ignore that.

“Introduce yourself as a servant, let the people get to know you, give them a chance to be friends with you, and when the time is right, when everyone believes you to be the great man I know you are, then I will tell them. Then I will have no fear of what the people think, for if by then they haven’t recognised your excellence then they are not worthy of living in Camelot.”

“Okay,” Merlin swallowed and nodded. “I do not understand though, why you need their approval. You are king.”

“Contrary to popular belief, it is not the King who rules, it is the people. If the King does not honour his people, the kingdom will fail, and if the people do not respect the King, it will suffer.”

***

When the castle gates came into view, Merlin got off the horse and walked the rest of the way. As soon as the guard at the drawbridge recognised the king he sent someone off to tell the Knights of his return. Three of them came out as they approached the palace.

“My lord, we were just about to search for you,” said one with sandy hair.

“I told you seven days, did I not? I’m here now,” Arthur replied.

“Yes, of course, my lord. And who is this?” He looked to Merlin.

“This is Merlin.” Arthur laid a heavy hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Sir Leon, Merlin. Merlin, Sir Leon. Merlin here is going to be my new manservant.”

“Ah, I see. Hello, Merlin.” Leon offered his hand and Merlin shook it firmly.

“Hello.” He tried to make it sound as natural as possible. Arthur had told him that if he spoke stiffly people would notice that English wasn’t his first language. Or they would think he was simple, and Arthur was not going to let that happen.

“And this is Gwaine.” Arthur motioned to a Knight with brown hair that came down to his shoulders. “And that monstrosity over there is Percival.”

Both Knights took turns shaking hands with him. Merlin recognised all three of them from the day Arthur had left his cave the first time. Their red cloaks seemed less threatening within the city walls. In the forest they stood out, reminding Merlin of blood, and indeed that was what he was taught to associate them with. Now they smiled at him, welcoming him into their home.

“I’m going to get him settled in with Gaius then you can speak with me about anything important I may have missed in the past week.”

“Yes, sire.”

They disappeared back into the castle and a servant came and took Arthur’s bags. Another one led the horse back to the stable.

Merlin looked round at the scene in fascination. “You are their leader.” Arthur nodded. “They…take orders from you.” Arthur nodded again, his face becoming more amused by the second. “Oh my gods,” a phrase he’d picked up from Will. “The King of Camelot loves me.”

Merlin slapped his forehead as the gravity of the situation dawned on him and Arthur laughed.

“Yes, Merlin, I’ve been trying to tell you that. Now come on and let’s meet Gaius.”

***

Merlin liked Gaius’s chambers a lot, mainly because of all the books. There were numerous colourful potions, herbs that he’d never seen before (though some he recognised), and tools that completely baffled him. He looked around like he was in Heaven.

Arthur let Merlin take it all in for a few moments before leading him to the old man that was so deep in a book he hadn’t heard them enter.

“Gaius.”

The man looked up at the sound of his name and stood to address the king.

“Sire.”

“I believe I’ve found a suitable apprentice for you. This is Merlin. He’s quite skilled with herbs and potions and whatnot. This is his first time in the city so when you’ve got him settled in, bring him to me and I’ll show him around.”

Arthur nudged Merlin forward and watched the two of them shake hands.

“Nice to meet you, Gaius.”

“And you, Merlin.”

“Right. Well, I’ll leave you to make yourself at home.” Arthur squeezed Merlin’s shoulder and gave him a significant look, then turned to leave.

He could have sworn he heard Merlin whisper “I love you” in Dragon Tongue on his way out.

“Can I look at the books?” Merlin asked as soon as Arthur closed the door behind him.

Gaius gave a bemused smile at the man’s interest. “Don’t you think you should put your things down first?”

Merlin’s face fell. “Oh. Yes.”

“The room is just back here.”

Merlin followed Gaius back to the small room and walked in. It wasn’t much, but it was cosy. He could imagine himself living there.

“I’ll let you get settled, then we can get started,” Gaius said as he closed the door.

Merlin set his bags on the floor by the wardrobe and sat on the bed. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, familiarising himself with the scent of the place, feeling out the atmosphere.

If he listened carefully he could hear the people in the streets below. He stood and went to the window. There was practically the whole city, rolling like hills and valleys in front of him.

In a way it was like the forest. Instead of trees, there were houses. In place of branches, there were rooms. Like animals gathered in a clearing, people flocked to the market square. Children ran around like rabbits and squirrels.

The city had a unique beauty, different but somehow quite similar to the forest Merlin so dearly loved.

He smiled broadly. Camelot wasn’t nearly as frightening as he’d thought it would be.

***

Arthur was barely listening to the drone of Sir Leon’s voice. Bandits here, minor food shortage there, everything fine now of course, but extra measures being taken just in case…

Arthur’s mind was elsewhere. The truth was that Merlin had really scared Arthur back there in the forest. It was a reminder that though the wizard spoke English, wore clothes, bathed himself, he was still a product of nature, still wild and not to be trifled with. He was human, had been raised by a man, but he had to have spent countless hours with animals to have picked up such traits as the ones he displayed the night before. He was, after all, and always would be, a cave-boy.

This, Arthur realised, was what Merlin had meant when he’d said he wasn’t innocent. The man could punch trees in half, had knocked him unconscious with only a couple words for fuck’s sake, and that had been on accident. Arthur didn’t want to imagine the damage Merlin could do if he really tried.

Regardless, this was still Merlin. He was the same man he joked with, slept with, and loved. The same man who not too long ago had a handful of children surround him and hug his knees as they sent him off with tears in their eyes. When Arthur himself was angry, wasn’t he like a different person? Wasn’t everyone?

If the growling and frantic thrusts during sex weren’t a wake-up call, this certainly was.

***

Merlin followed Gaius through the huge halls of the castle, mouth agape at the expensive furnishings, intricately designed windows, and royally clad nobles they passed.

Finally they reached what Gaius announced was Arthur’s room. Merlin’s heart raced in his chest. This was Arthur’s personal space. It was one thing to know Arthur, and another completely to see how the man lived when he was alone.

Arthur was equally anxious on the other side of the door. He tried to keep his face passive as he looked over the documents spread across his desk. He looked up only when he heard the door click shut.

Merlin stood before him, hands behind his back, lips pulled into a thin line. The anxiety melted away when Arthur smiled.

Merlin relaxed and allowed himself to approach the king. He kneeled in front of the desk, placing his arms and chin on the wooden surface.

“How is my king?” He asked with a childish grin.

“Knee-deep in work already,” Arthur replied, leaning back with a sigh. “And how is my faithful manservant?”

“I am well. I am excited to see the rest of Camelot. I saw only parts of it on the way in.”

“I really should be going over this.” Arthur gestured to the mess of papers and Merlin’s face twitched. “But I’m bored to tears of it and could do with the distraction.”

“Good. Show me your room first.”

“Alright.” They both stood. “This is my desk. That’s the wardrobe, that’s the bed, that’s the table, and that’s another wardrobe.”

“Tell me more about the bed.”

“It’s just a—Oh.” Arthur stopped midsentence when he realised the hidden meaning behind Merlin’s words. He grinned “Well, it’s much more comfortable than the one in Ealdor and certainly better than a stone floor.” Arthur leaned against the bedpost. “Why don’t you try it out?”

Merlin stepped forward, mirroring Arthur’s grin with one of his own, and laid down on the soft red blankets.

“Ah. This is nice,” he sighed. “More nice than the one in my room.”

“Well it is the king’s bed. Of course it’s the best in the whole kingdom.”

Merlin put his head back and felt like he could melt into the soft cushions.

“How do you get up in the morning?” Merlin wondered aloud.

“With the knowledge that I’ll return to it again at night,” Arthur answered.

“It is so warm.” He curled into the soft velvety blanket.

Arthur, to distract himself from the very attractive man in his bed, said, “’It’s’ Merlin. Remember what we discussed about sounding natural.”

“It’s so warm, then.” He sighed as he got up. “I never should have laid in it. Now I know what I am missing. What I’m missing.” Merlin corrected himself before Arthur had a chance to.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Merlin.” Arthur pulled Merlin into his arms where he was leaning against the bedpost. “You may get to lay in it again sometime soon,” he whispered and pressed a quick kiss to the lips he adored.

Merlin leaned in for another but Arthur squeezed out from under him and he ended up banging his head on the bedpost. Arthur laughed as he made his way to the door.

“You coming, then?” He asked obnoxiously.

“Tease,” Merlin muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead as he followed.

***

Camelot was a lot like Ealdor, just more spread out, and more people. However, the people didn’t have faces as kind as the country folk and spoke hurriedly, like they were always in a rush.

The layout was much the same. A large, bustling market in the centre, with stores spilling into side streets every so often, with homes in the area surrounding it. Some things occurred more than once because of how many people lived there. There were two taverns, one in the east side and one in the west, three blacksmiths, two sawmills, two seamstresses (though truthfully every woman was a seamstress when she needed to be), and three carpenters.

And those were just the basic shops every town had. In addition, the central market, and even streets just near the area, had dozens of stalls offering wares of all kinds. Many of the items for sale Merlin had never seen before. Some of them he’d seen and wondered why people were so eager to buy them, as they were nothing special.

One of these things was quartz. Merlin had seen rocks just like them (and much prettier crystals as well) all over the place when he explored as a child. But the people here were buying them up like they’d be gone the next day if they didn’t get them quick.

“You know about money, right Merlin?” Arthur asked as they walked back to the castle.

“Yes. I learn about it—learned about it—in Ealdor. One woman give me a gold coin for help her and when I show it to Will he explain. Gold is valuable. It buys things I need.”

“That’s right, Merlin. And you also know not to waste it by spending it on things you don’t need, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, good.” They’d reached the castle doors. “Listen, Merlin, you’ve got the basics of English down, and your accent is coming along, but you’re still making some important mistakes. It’s great that you’ve got ‘learned,’ but the same rule applies to other words too. Like ‘show.’ You ‘showed’ the coin to Will. Do you understand?”

“Past tense, Will said it was,” Merlin nodded.

“Exactly. And some words you’ve already got down. But English is weird and some words have different endings. Sometimes there are different words entirely for different tenses.”

Merlin groaned. English was a stupid language.

“Look, I can’t take the time to teach you everything myself, so ask Gaius for help. He probably wants you to know how to read anyways, so just work on the spoken part at the same time. He’ll be more than happy to assist you.” Arthur rested a heavy hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Sound like a plan?”

“Yes, sire.”

Arthur smiled and gave Merlin’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” And he disappeared inside the castle.

***

Autumn faded into winter and Merlin soon became familiar with Camelot and its ways. He explored every inch of the castle he was allowed to (and some he wasn’t), learned to read and speak English fluently, and even became friends with some of the Knights.

He developed a routine. In the mornings he would take Arthur his breakfast, dress him, (then undress if they had time), go about his chores and help Gaius while Arthur worked, then bring Arthur his supper at night. Sometimes, maybe once or twice a week, Arthur would be too exhausted to make love to Merlin after supper, but usually as soon as he put his fork down, he’d say, “Come here, Merlin,” and proceed to kiss the living daylights out of his manservant.

Whenever they were alone Merlin insisted on speaking in Dragon Tongue. He felt it was important that he not lose touch with who he was and it made him feel closer to home. Arthur didn’t mind, in fact he liked it. He’d always found the language beautiful and sometimes preferred hearing Merlin speak it. The English Merlin wasn’t the real Merlin, wasn’t the man who saved his life all those months ago, and certainly wasn’t the man he fell in love with.

Even though Merlin the cave-boy was wild and dangerous, it was better than Merlin the manservant, docile and civilised (though still just as cheeky and mischievous). Merlin liked the city, but Arthur could tell that he missed the forest. Every time he caught Merlin staring out over the castle walls, or when he came back hours later from collecting herbs, Arthur sensed the longing rolling off of Merlin in waves.

When winter had really set in, as if in vengeance, Merlin visibly preferred the indoors. Camelot was north of Merlin’s cave, not by much but enough to make a significant difference in temperature. Arthur let his manservant sleep in his bed much more in the winter, for warmth as well as the obvious reason. Merlin learned a lot about sex that winter.

First, Arthur fucked him with his tongue, driving Merlin mad with pleasure. There was no growling then, replaced by purring. The way Arthur traced Merlin’s entrance, opened him up little by little with his thumbs then shoved his tongue inside, undid Merlin completely. It began as a small whine high in the back of Merlin’s throat, then when Arthur started sucking and making obscene slurping noises, coming from a place so private, so intimate, it evolved into a deep-throated purr, and Arthur found he liked that more than the growling.

Merlin returned the favour to Arthur and after a week Merlin begged for more, more, and Arthur slipped his fingers in one by one, eventually fisting the warlock’s arse. He watched in wide-eyed fascination as Merlin fucked himself with reckless abandon, bucking his hips back and forth while Arthur pushed in and out at the same time.

After that, Arthur decided he wanted to fuck the man properly. Merlin was more than ready.

“Pay close attention to everything I do, Merlin,” Arthur said, grabbing the oil. Merlin nodded.

Merlin laid back and spread his legs wide, inviting Arthur in. The sight took Arthur’s breath away every time, this powerful warlock giving in to him completely, laying there wantonly open and ready in his bed. He’d give anything to Arthur without the king even having to ask for it.

But Arthur didn’t want the control he’d been expected to have since birth. Since the first time in the grotto when Merlin had rolled Arthur onto his back and grinded down onto him, he’d found that he liked losing his sense of control, was thrilled at being the one taken care of. So Arthur would teach Merlin the final act of sex, teach him how to fuck the king and fuck him hard.

Arthur dipped his finger into the oil and inserted it carefully inside of the dark-haired man lying on his bed. So far not much was different from the previous times they’d done this. Instead of spit, there was oil, and if anything it felt better, more slippery and comfortable.

Merlin bit his lip when Arthur had three fingers wedged inside. It wasn’t the burn of the stretch; Merlin had been fucked open much too often that winter for only three digits to hurt him. It was simply the sight of Arthur preparing him for what he knew must be coming. The anticipation had Merlin as hard as a rock.

Things differed again when Arthur began slicking up his cock with the oil. The king knew he didn’t have to be generous with the amount. Merlin wasn’t only wide open, he had a bit of a masochistic streak sometimes. He knew the pain would only increase the pleasure. Still, Arthur put a lot on for his own sake. If Merlin saw him skimp out on the amount, he was likely not to use as much as he ought to, as much as Arthur needed when the time came for Merlin to bend him over.

Finally Arthur leaned forward and pressed the tip of his cock to Merlin’s entrance. Their eyes met and Arthur held the gaze as he pushed the rest of the way in. Merlin bit his lip so hard, Arthur was surprised it didn’t bleed.

When Arthur was seated firmly inside he leaned and planted a slow, reassuring kiss on Merlin’s lips. Only then did he started moving.

It was slow at first, languid and purposeful, but still hard thrusts that made Merlin’s breath hitch each time Arthur’s cock went in to the base.

“Next time, I want you to do this to me,” Arthur said hoarsely. “You can’t go so fast at the start…or you’ll hurt me…do you understand?”

Merlin whimpered and wrapped his legs tight around Arthur’s waist. Arthur took that as a yes.

“But over time…you’ll get faster…and faster,” Arthur narrated as he picked up speed.

“Yeah,” Merlin replied breathlessly. “Yeah, like that. I got it.”

“And sometimes…adjustments will need to be made.” Arthur moved Merlin’s legs so that they hung over his shoulders and Merlin gasped. “You see why, don’t you?”

“Yeah, gods, fuck yeah I see why,” Merlin moaned. Arthur had found the right spot and kept hitting it expertly.

“Finally…when you feel like you’re close…I want you to reach down…and touch me…just…like…this.”

Arthur curled his fingers around Merlin’s weeping cock and stroked it hard and fast, in time with his thrusts. Merlin wailed and came thick white strands on his chest. Arthur turned his head and bit into the skin of Merlin’s knee as he throbbed out his release inside.

It was only after he collapsed besides Merlin that he realised something was off.

“Um, Merlin?”

“Hm?” He had his eyes closed as he caught his breath.

“The bed is…Well, the bed is…levitating.”

Merlin jerked up and looked over the side. Sure enough, the bed was a good three feet above the floor.

It fell with a bang and Arthur hoped nobody would come running to ask what the noise was. Both men breathed a sigh of relief with nobody did. Then they burst out laughing.

“We really need to work on getting that under control, don’t you think?” Arthur said when his fit of giggles left him.

“Yeah. Remember that time the vase broke?”

“Or when the mirror cracked?”

“And I almost set the curtains on fire?”

“That wasn’t so funny, actually.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Not at all.”

“Quite frightening, really.”

Their banter stilled for a moment as they stared at each other, daring one to break the silence first. They ended up bursting into another set of hysterical laughter at the same time.

“I suppose I’ll just have to keep practicing,” Merlin finally said, trailing a finger down Arthur’s chest.

“I suppose. In fact I highly recommend it.”

Arthur kissed his amazing manservant until he felt him shiver.

“You’re cold. Come on, under the blankets.” He tugged the red fabric then stopped. “Do you think you could…?” He gestured to himself and Merlin’s leaking hole.

“Right, almost forgot.”

The mess was gone with a few unknown syllables and they curled up under the soft blanket. Merlin decided that moment that winter was his favourite season.

***

It happened one day when Merlin was doing Arthur’s laundry.

Emrys.

He couldn’t explain it, but Merlin knew someone was calling out to him. Some magical force was trying to communicate with him.

Emrys.

Merlin hung the clothes up to dry and took the basket to Arthur’s room, wanting to at least finish that chore before seeing what this thing calling him needed.

Emrys!

He set the empty basket down just inside the door and left so hurriedly Arthur frowned at him from his desk before setting back to work. Sometimes Merlin just did weird things like that.

Merlin followed the pull on his magic to the dungeons, of all places.

Down here, Emrys.

The torches at the far end of the hall were unlit and Merlin noticed a set of double doors there for the first time. The lack of light there did well to hide it and he was immediately curious.

It was no surprise that he found the door locked. Wherever this led, nobody was allowed in. The lock was old and rusty. If Merlin had a hammer he suspected it would shatter easily. As it was though, he didn’t, so he used his magic to simply unlock it.

The doors opened onto a staircase. Where they led, Merlin couldn’t be sure because it was so dark. He grabbed one of the unlit torches, cast a quick fire spell, and began cautiously down the steps.

There was a short hall at the end of the stairs. As Merlin walked on, the floor turned from stone to dirt, until finally he turned on a corner and found himself in an underground cavern much larger than his forest cave.

He was also face to face with a huge bronze dragon.

Merlin knew about dragons. He knew they were wise creatures that lived through epochs of time, and he knew about the dragonlords. Balinor had told him that when he died, the dragonlord status would pass from father to son, and the same would happen when the time came for Merlin’s son in inherit the gift. But both men had believed that dragons were extinct, that Uther had hunted them all down. Apparently at least one had survived.

“Hello Emrys.” Not surprisingly, the old creature spoke in Dragon Tongue. “I must say, I expected…more.”

Merlin frowned. He hadn’t even said anything and already the dragon was insulting him.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I am Kilgharrah.”

The dragon unfolded its wings, stretched, and shifted its position on the rock it sat on. Merlin found the whole scene a bit dramatic and unnecessary. Clearly Kilgharrah felt he was important.

“I’m—”

“I know who you are, Emrys.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Merlin.”

“It is of no importance to me what you call yourself. But you are Emrys. It is a name to be proud of, young warlock.”

“What do you want with me?” Merlin asked impatiently.

“The time of Albion draws near. You have played your part well, but not well enough. The time for action is now. The spirits grow restless,” Kilgharrah said cryptically.

“What is Albion? Played my part in what?”

“Your life is bound to that of Arthur’s. With your help, he is to bring magic back to the land and unite the kingdom,” the dragon replied in a tone Merlin thought was a bit frustrated. “It was not coincidence that the king stumbled into your home. It was fate.”

Kilgharrah lowered his head so that it was level with Merlin’s and the sorcerer stared back into the glowing eyes with scepticism. Though dragons were said to be wise, this one seemed too keen on the idea of fate. His eyes had that glassy look that hinted he could talk about Albion and fate and uniting the kingdom all day.

“Okay…Let’s say it was fate,” Merlin said hesitantly. “I do believe that I can persuade Arthur to lift the ban on magic eventually, in fact I’d been hoping for it. But that’s a long time in the future. And you say these ‘spirits grow restless?’ Are you saying I don’t have a lot of time?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying.”

“So it was ‘fate’ that led Arthur to come to me in my cave, ‘fate’ that I didn’t erase his memory of me, ‘fate’ that he fell in love with me, ‘fate’ that I come to Camelot and meet a dragon named Kilgharrah, and ‘fate’ that I help Arthur unite the kingdom and bring back magic?”

“Yes. All but the ‘falling in love’ part,” Kilgharrah replied. “That is certainly not necessary to fulfil your destiny, but I suppose a close bond can be…beneficial.”

“Right. Uh huh. Is that all?”

“Do not take my words lightly, young warlock. I am only trying to help you,” the dragon warned.

“Yeah. Why is that?”

Kilgharrah lifted his wing to reveal the chain tied securely around his leg. “I am locked up in this underground prison. Held captive since Uther hunted every magic user and sympathiser in the land. I am the last of my kind. I wish to fly freely in the skies once more.”

“You want me to free you.”

It wasn’t a question. Merlin understood the dragon’s feelings almost perfectly. His father had kept him in the cave for years and he rejoiced the first time he saw what lay beyond the monotonous stone walls. Merlin couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to own the air, soar high above the mountains, only to be chained underground for twenty years, despairing in the fact that you were truly alone in the world.

“I’ll do what I can to speed up the process. Help with this so-called Albion,” Merlin said. “Even so it may take years for Arthur to come around to it. He would be undoing everything his father worked for, and though he believes firmly in equality, it takes a toll on a man. It won’t be as simple as ordering a royal decree.”

“I have lived a very long time, Emrys. I have seen many empires rise and fall. I have witnessed the birth of religions, watched men fight to defend their gods, seen the land change from glaciers to green fields and back again. Though I can wait a few more years, there are those that cannot and will not. It would be wise of you to do all in your power to bring about the time of Albion,” Kilgharrah told him pointedly. “If Arthur is truly in love with you, your influence over him is great, and your power strong.”

“I am not going to take advantage of Arthur’s trust that way!” Merlin sputtered. How dare the dragon even suggest such a thing.

Kilgharrah’s features softened. “I too loved once.” Merlin wondered for a moment what dragon love could possibly be like, but decided better of it. “I understand your reluctance. But I have lived for millennia. You must ask yourself the question, as many before you have: is your love worth the fate of the kingdom? Of the world?”

Without another word, the bronze dragon flew away, deep into the dark abyss of the cave.

***

To say Merlin was troubled after that would be an understatement.

Somehow the plan had been turned upside down. Before, Merlin had simply to come to Camelot and wait for the time until Arthur announced who he really was, then he’d get to work on bringing magic back to the kingdom. What he hadn’t taken into account was how terrible it would be being a servant and how much he’d miss the forest. The added bother of Kilgharrah and his talk of destiny ruined everything completely. How was he supposed to do all the things the dragon talked about as a simple serving boy? How long would it be before Merlin could show Arthur affection in public? How many more months could Merlin last surrounded by stone buildings and noisy city folk?

Arthur sensed the change in Merlin almost immediately. The sorcerer sometimes went without smiling for days on end unless Arthur went out of his way to do something about it. Gaius had remarked on how serious the boy had been while working of late. Even the Knights noticed something was amiss.

“Is Merlin alright, my lord?” Leon asked the first day Spring training started up again. He’d been eyeing the manservant worriedly for a week and had finally gotten the courage to inquire after the cause.

“He has been a bit gloomy lately, hasn’t he?” Arthur agreed. If Leon was asking about it, something was definitely wrong.

“Why don’t we take him to the tavern?” Gwaine suggested. “That ought to cheer him up.”

Arthur shook his head. “He’s not keen on ale.”

“Probably needs a good lay. Just look at the poor sod. Ouch!” Gwaine rubbed his arm where Leon had hit him. “The bloody hell was that for?”

“You idiot,” Leon muttered.

Arthur raised a questioning eyebrow at the two of them, fighting back the blush he could feel rising in his cheeks.

Leon, ignorant of Arthur’s expression, stared daggers at Gwaine until the daft Knight finally caught on.

“Oh!” Gwaine said. “Well, why didn’t you—Ouch!”

Leon saw Arthur watching the scene for the first time and straightened up. Gwaine rubbed his arm bitterly and went off to warm up for practice.

“Maybe if you gave him the day off, sire, he would be in higher spirits. It’s been a long winter and he does like to go off into the wood every now and again, if I’m not mistaken. Perhaps some time away from the castle would be beneficial,” Leon suggested.

“Perhaps you’re right, Leon.” Arthur nodded. “I’ll give him tomorrow off, seeing as today is already half gone and we need someone to polish the armour.” He pat the Knight on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Leon. Not many would care so much for a simple servant.”

“It’s no problem, my lord. Merlin is more than servant. To all of us. He is a dear friend.”

He gave Arthur a pointed look that the king was completely ignorant of and turned to select a weapon for the day’s practice.

Arthur was glad that the Knights had taken such a liking to Merlin, but sometimes they spoke about him as if…

Arthur shook his head. He turned his eyes to focus on the dark-haired warlock standing silently at the fence on the other side of the field. As if feeling himself being watched, Merlin looked up. Arthur tilted his head ever so slightly, asking “Is everything alright?” without uttering a word. Merlin smiled and nodded back, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

The king’s worry must have shown on his face because Merlin cupped his hands and began whispering into them in Dragon Tongue. It was something they sometimes did when they needed to communicate from far away. With the help of a little magic, Merlin could simply speak into his hands and when he opened them, the words flew to Arthur’s ears, and Arthur’s ears alone. He did so now.

“How many times must I tell you I’m fine? More than fine since I get to watch a bunch of men sweat and twirl their swords around.”

Arthur’s eyes widened and Merlin had to hold his sides, he was laughing so hard. A couple of the Knights glanced his way before returning to their workout.

Merlin gathered himself and spoke into his hands again. “Well, go on then, before they suspect I’m more than just a madman, but a madman that is fucking the king.”

Arthur’s jaw actually dropped but he found himself chuckling a bit as well. Merlin covered his grin with one hand and shooed Arthur in the direction of the practice field with the other. When Arthur finally turned he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of a smile on Leon’s face.

***

Merlin did want to leave the castle on his day off, but it felt too much like abandoning his post. So he stayed in his room and read the book Matthew of Ealdor had given him. Until he heard a knock on Gaius’s chamber doors.

Gaius was out tending to some people down in the lower city and had said he wouldn’t be back for a while. That was another reason Merlin had stayed: to answer the door.

“Arthur?” Merlin greeted the king in surprise.

“Merlin? What are you doing here?”

“I live here. And you gave me the day off, remember?” Merlin slipped into Dragon Tongue and Arthur knew it meant Gaius wasn’t there.

“I do remember, but I thought you’d be…I don’t know, outside enjoying the spring weather.” Arthur waved his hand in the general direction.

Merlin stepped back to allow Arthur inside and closed the door behind him.

“You may have given me a free day but that doesn’t mean Gaius has,” Merlin explained. He sat down at the table. “He’s off treating someone or other in the lower city and won’t be back until late. I’m to stay here and see to anyone that may come by.” He looked to Arthur, who had sat down across from him. “Why are you here anyways?”

The truth was that he wanted to ask Gaius what had been troubling Merlin, hoping that the old man would have some insight as to why his manservant had been so sombre.

Arthur coughed, stalling for time. “I needed to see Gaius.”

Merlin was instantly worried. “Are you okay? Has your wound been acting up?” He began to get up but Arthur stilled him with a hand.

“I’m fine. I just needed to speak with him.”

“About what?”

Merlin wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he didn’t like the idea that Arthur felt he couldn’t come to him for help. Surely the king knew by now that he could tell Merlin anything.

“Oh, just some royal business,” Arthur said, waving his hand. “He was my father’s most trusted advisor and I still come to him when I need advice from an older perspective.”

Merlin mentally kicked himself for the earlier pang of jealousy he felt. Of course it was royal business. Of course Arthur was aware that he had Merlin.

“I’m not sure when he’ll be back.” Merlin let his eyes wander upwards to the ceiling and around the room. “He only said later.” Finally his gaze came to rest on the door to his room and after a few pregnant seconds he returned to look at Arthur.

Arthur wasn’t slow. “That’s fine.”

Arthur sat a few moments, tracing patterns into the wood of the table, humming to himself, before he looked up into Merlin’s impatient face with a smirk.

They stood and almost knocked over a table of important-looking vials in their haste.

***

It was the worst case of common cold Gaius had ever seen.

It was sad really, how often lower class citizens got sick due to poor conditions. But that was the way of things and it couldn’t be helped.

He returned tiredly to his chambers and immediately he felt something was different. It probably had something to do with the ragged breathing coming from Merlin’s room.

“Merlin?”

He walked over to the back room and only opened the door slightly before catching a glimpse of the man he was looking for. The boy was straddling some other man, bent over and kissing him while one hand fingered the man’s arse.

Gaius shut the door without being noticed. He ought to have left and come back. He really ought to.

But this was the first interesting thing he’d seen about Merlin in the months the boy had been in Camelot. He was old but he was human. He’d only listen a moment…

A voice that wasn’t Merlin’s spoke hoarsely in a language Gaius didn’t recognise. But the tone sounded insistent, like a command. It was followed shortly after by a whimper and Gaius had an idea of what was going on.

“Merlin!”

That couldn’t be right. It sounded as if…almost like…Arthur?

Gaius made his way silently back up the steps leading to the door and looked through the crack between the boards. All he could see was Merlin’s arse muscles clenching as he thrust deep into a man bent over.

He stepped away. It was one thing to listen but another entirely to watch. And if it was the king in there, he didn’t want to think about the consequences.

“Arthur.”

Maybe there was another lad named Arthur. And that had to have come from Merlin. But it didn’t sound like Merlin. It sounded like some sort of animal that had snarled the name. And indeed, over time, Gaius could make out the distinctive growling noise coming from behind the door. That couldn’t have been the sweet, smiling boy that Gaius knew, could it?

Arthur spoke in the weird language, insistent again but this time almost pleading, and Gaius could hear them speed up. At the same time the growling grew louder, more intense.

Suddenly one of them gave a high-pitched yelp. If he hadn’t peeked in, Gaius would have thought a woman was in there.

There was more talking he didn’t understand, another whimper, and a moan.

When the sound of skin against skin became audible Gaius had stood up, determined to leave and come back later. But at that moment all the candles lit themselves, and the books that were not on the shelves opened to their exact middle.

The door to Merlin’s room opened and shut itself repeatedly. Gaius couldn’t help it. He looked. Both men were kneeling on the bed, their backs to the door. Merlin was thrusting upwards into what could only be the king, based on the sun-blond hair. One arm was wrapped high across Arthur’s chest while the other one made tell-tale up and down motions lower. His head was bent into the crook of Arthur’s neck, drawing tiny droplets of blood from biting down so hard.

“Yeah, Merlin, yeah faster, I’m almost—”

Arthur came with a cry just as the candles went out, the books closed, and the door slammed shut for the final time.

***

Arthur loved being fucked by Merlin.

“Now Merlin,” Arthur ordered as he sat up, turned around and bent over for the sorcerer. “Fuck me now.”

Merlin thrust into him and Arthur let out a rather pathetic whimper. Merlin went agonisingly slow. He pressed wet delicate kisses into Arthur’s back as he moved his hips gently back and forth.

It was all well and good for a while but Arthur wanted the real Merlin. He knew Merlin tried to stay civilised for him during sex, knew the man didn’t like showing the wild animal that lurked deep inside of him, but that was the Merlin Arthur wanted.

“Merlin!” Arthur said rather impatiently.

“Arthur.”

The answer came menacingly close to Arthur’s ear, and the snarl was barely there but distinctive. Arthur bit his lip in anticipation for what was to come. He could feel Merlin’s control slowly crumbling.

“Come on, Merlin, we haven’t got all day.”

With that, Merlin’s hold on civility slipped and he pushed into Arthur’s stretched hole ferociously. He gripped the king’s arse hard enough to leave bruises and he would have thrust faster, fucked harder if the tiny voice in the back of his head hadn’t whispered, “Don’t hurt him.” It was the single remaining human thought in his head, and the only reason it hadn’t fled with the others was because of his love for Arthur.

Despite that, Merlin had leaned forward and licked a stripe over Arthur’s neck before biting lovingly into the soft flesh.

Arthur cried out. “Did you just—did you just bite me?”

Merlin’s answering growl frightened the king into silence. He wasn’t mad, he was just taken by surprise.

“B-biting’s alright, biting is fine. Go ahead, bite all you want.”

Merlin clenched his teeth a bit harder, but not enough to hurt, and Arthur moaned in pleasure. The wizard picked up speed and the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room.

Merlin pulled Arthur up and wrapped an arm around his chest, using his other hand to fist Arthur’s leaking cock. The king was faintly aware of the door slamming shut over and over again but couldn’t find it in him to care.

He slipped back into English as he neared the climax. “Yeah, Merlin, yeah faster, I’m almost—”

He came in Merlin’s hands with a stifled cry and he felt Merlin throb his release inside him. He could stay there with Merlin’s cock in him all day but knew it was impossible to do so. He leaned forward and the resulting feeling of emptiness hit him hard.

They fell in a heap on the bed, inhaling hard, catching their breath.

“You’re bleeding,” Merlin gasped. The guise of civility was back. He reached up and touched Arthur’s neck. His finger came away red.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t even realise.”

Merlin looked mortified. “I hurt you. I can’t believe I—”

“Merlin, it’s fine.”

Merlin ran his thumb under the edges of his teeth in worry, as if he couldn’t fathom the idea that he really did something like that. Then he set his jaw determinedly.

“No, Arthur, it’s not. I—”

He was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and closing shut outside. Both men’s eyes widened.

Gaius.

They dressed hurriedly and Merlin told Arthur to stay put while he tried to get Gaius to leave long enough for the king to make an escape.

“Oh, hey, Gaius,” he said, smoothing his hair down like he’d just woken up from a nap. The old man glanced up at him from the potions he was fumbling with.

“Hello, Merlin. Did anyone come by while I was out?”

“No. How was, er, that boy?”

“Timothy was still as sick as a dog. I’m worried about him. It’s been a month and he’s still not well.”

Gaius gave up searching for whatever it was he was looking for among the vials and gave Merlin his full attention.

“I’ll try something,” Merlin said. “Maybe it’s just the medicine you’re using.” Merlin winced at the implication. “Not that there’s anything wrong with what you’re giving him, it’s just—”

“No, no, you’re right, my dear boy. Your treatments usually prove to be more…potent anyway,” Gaius assured him. “When will you get around to telling me more about your methods? I’m interested in learning them to improve upon my own work.”

If there was a twinkle in Gaius’s eye, Merlin didn’t notice it. He was too busy trying to think of a way to get the old man out of the room.

“How about now? Why don’t we take a walk?”

Merlin linked his arm with Gaius’s but the man held fast. “I just came from walking, Merlin. Give an old man a break. I’m tired.” He sat down. “We can talk of it here, can’t we?”

Merlin panicked a moment. “O-okay, let me just…get my book from my room.”

Gaius allowed himself a small smile as soon as Merlin disappeared into the back room. Who did the boy think he was fooling? He was eager to see what excuse Merlin came up with.

After five minutes of listening to whispers in a language he didn’t understand, Gaius stood and approached the door.

“Merlin?” He began turning the handle, but it was yanked out of his grasp as Merlin opened the door fully.

“Just a moment, Gaius.” Merlin was about to close the door but he himself was pulled out of the way and replaced by Arthur.

“This is silly, Merlin, it’s just Gaius. Hello, Gaius.”

“Sire.”

“I know what this looks like.”

“I know what it sounded like.”

“You…” Arthur blushed to the tips of his ears. “You do?”

“I do.”

Arthur swallowed and regained his air of authority. “Right well, obviously, no one is to know and—”

“I’m sorry about this Gaius.” Merlin appeared in the doorway. “Don’t mind him, he’s just worried what people will think if they find out he’s with a servant, but I’m not even a real servant to begin with so—”

“Ignore him.” Arthur pushed Merlin out of the way and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. “The truth is that—”

“I saved his life!” Merlin yelled from behind the door, which he then opened.

“Why don’t you speak one at a time?” Gaius suggested. “Just start from the beginning.”

The pair of them looked at each other and sighed. Merlin began.

“I’m not really from Ealdor. I lived with my father, Balinor, in a cave. He died and when I was out looking for the beast that killed him, I saw Arthur for the first time.”

“You saw me before I ended up in your cave?” Arthur interrupted.

“Will you let me tell the story?”

“Fine, fine, go on.” Arthur waved him on.

“Anyways, my father had always told me to stay away from Knights so I watched their stupid attempts at killing the thing before I ran back—”

“What do you mean ‘stupid attempts?’”

“Arthur!”

“Alright, alright, keep going then.”

Merlin sighed in exasperation. “So I ran back. Then, a couple hours later…”

***

It was dusk when Merlin finished his tale. Arthur had added his own bits and pieces too, giving Gaius both sides of the story and thus explaining his odd behaviour since returning from hunting the magical beast all those months ago. They obviously left out the more explicit details, but otherwise told the physician everything. About the beautiful grotto, Matthew and Will, Arthur’s jealous moment with Enmyria, the fiasco on their way back from the tavern (which horrified Merlin), their journey to Camelot (falling tree and all), and the pretence they’d been living under since the king’s return.

Gaius sat back. “What will you do next?” He asked Arthur. “Will you lift the ban on magic?”

“What do you mean? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, as the law stands now, Merlin would be executed were anyone to find out about him.”

Merlin gripped Arthur’s hand and pleaded with his eyes. This was the moment the dragon had been talking about. That it had come to pass under such embarrassing circumstances was the workings of mysterious fate indeed.

“I—I honestly hadn’t given it much thought,” Arthur admitted. “Magic being outlawed has been such a huge part of the kingdom for my whole life. I knew it brought people some misfortune—liked Merlin here living in a cave—but I never thought about the executions once I became King. Well, that’s not entirely true I suppose.”

“Arthur. What are you saying?” Merlin asked hopefully.

“I’m saying, I never planned on killing anyone like my father. Magic is dangerous, but nobody should be put to death if they’ve done nothing wrong. Perhaps my father was wrong to ban it.” He consulted Merlin. “You don’t think it’s too early in my reign for so drastic a change, do you? I’ve only been King a year and a half.”

“Arthur, even if it is early, think of the people that are still suffering.”

“The boy is right, sire,” Gaius added. “There are whole villages that burn magic users at the stake in your name, thinking they are doing the kingdom good. Though you execute nobody, many still die under the law as it stands.”

“Then I have no choice.”

“You always have a choice Arthur,” Merlin said. “Do what you think is right. And not just because of me.”

Arthur sat silently staring at the floor intently. Merlin thumbed circles into the back of Arthur’s hand as the man contemplated.

“I’ll call a council,” he finally decided. “Whatever decision I come to must be made by more than myself alone.” He stood and walked to the door. “It’s about time for supper, don’t you think, Merlin?”

Merlin rolled his eyes and stood to go to the kitchens. “I’ll be there shortly, Your Highness.” The door clicked shut behind Arthur and he turned to look back at Gaius. “That potion for Timothy will have to wait, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure Timothy will survive the night.”

***

As poor Timothy lay coughing and sneezing in bed, Merlin attended the king, fulfilling the man’s every need as he sat at his desk planning the event. He’d fetch him an apple, massage his aching shoulders, even slap him if he was beginning to drift off to sleep. Merlin had never seen Arthur so determined about anything.

It was going to be more than a council meeting. It was going to be an elaborately planned midsummer celebration, to which all the neighbouring (and allied) royal families were invited. There would be a feast, there would be entertainment, and most importantly, there would be plenty of wine for all.

Arthur spent weeks fleshing out his course of action. He let Leon take over training the Knights and only left his room when his presence at court was absolutely necessary. Merlin had to carry armloads of books from the library to Arthur’s room so he could study the history of each kingdom in regards to sorcery. One duke had a cousin that was killed by an evil witch not too long ago but he was so insignificant it hardly mattered. A princess, on the other hand, had given birth to a faerie and the creature had to be killed, after which the princess was so distraught that she threw herself from the tallest tower. That family would be sure to hold a grudge against magic-users. Arthur had to take into account each detail, compare it to the grand scheme of things, and write speech after speech in an effort to bring his allies round to his way of thinking.

Some kingdoms would need no persuasion. It was common knowledge that Mercia and Northumbria allowed sorcery, even rumoured that some of the royal family practiced it themselves. Wessex and Kent however would be more difficult to win over. They were strong supporters of Uther’s harsh rulings against all magic. But they hadn’t always been. If Arthur reminded them of the time when magic had flourished within their kingdoms, perhaps they would look kindly on his actions.

Three, maybe four weeks (it all blended together to Merlin) passed and Arthur began to look more relaxed. Things at court returned to normal as Arthur took up his usual duties again. Every so often he’d get a bright look in his eyes and rush off to write down whatever had come to his mind, but the spring months passed much the same as the autumn.

After a winter spent wrapped in each other’s arms, the pair of them had become impossibly closer. Merlin knew every one of Arthur’s sleeping habits and Arthur knew Merlin’s. Things never truly went back to the way they were before that winter, especially since Gaius knew everything. Arthur allowed Merlin to share his bed at night once a week, but never more, for fear that the servants would talk. But their daily routines had shifted once more into monotony.

That is, until Merlin rolled out of Arthur’s sleeping embrace one night and slinked off to speak with the dragon.

It had been a while since the wizard had talked with him, and Merlin could understand the dragon’s impatience. But that was no reason to be calling him in the middle of the night, especially since he’d been nice and warm in Arthur’s arms.

Merlin slipped as delicately as he could from underneath him, but Arthur still woke up. Merlin of course wasn’t aware of this, otherwise he wouldn’t have left at all, and would have mentally told the dragon to shut it. But he was completely oblivious to the king’s shadow following him as he snuck his way past the guards and into the dark depths beneath the castle.

“There better be a damn good reason why you woke me up, Kilgharrah,” Merlin snapped when he came upon the dragon.

“You have yet to keep your promise, young warlock.”

“And you said you could wait a few more years. Now all you have to do is wait a few more months.”

Kilgharrah shifted uneasily. “It is true I said that, but now that the time is close I have become…restless. I seek my freedom immediately.”

“That’s too bad. I will only free you once magic has been restored.”

“And if these neighbouring kingdoms disagree with the young Pendragon? If he bows to them in submission? What then?”

“You said yourself it was destined to happen, that magic would return.”

“Ah, but I never said how. Even to me that is a mystery. But should they refuse your king’s offer, I will be ready to force them into agreement with fire and blood.” The dragon’s lips pulled back to reveal his sharp teeth.

“No. I will not allow you to use force to achieve peace. That sort of peace can never last.”

Kilgharrah spewed a blast of fire Merlin’s way but the sorcerer deflected it easily with a shield.

“You will obey me!” He ordered. Being a dragonlord certainly had its benefits. “And do not tear me from the King’s side again to deal with your impatience.”

Merlin turned the corner into the hall and ran into somebody, knocking them over. The fear that he’d been followed and would have to kill someone made his heart race in his chest, until he looked down and saw who it was.

“Arthur?”

Arthur looked up at him sheepishly. “Merlin.”

Merlin sighed, too tired for anger. “You followed me, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Arthur stood up and brushed the dust off his clothes. “Why didn’t you tell me I had a dragon under my castle? Don’t you think that’s kind of important?”

Apparently Arthur was never too tired to get upset.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m exhausted and I just want to go back to bed.”

“Fine,” Arthur spat. “But go back to your own bed.”

Merlin watched helplessly as the king stormed off. He thought he heard the distant sound of laughter coming from somewhere deep within the cave.

***

When Merlin walked in with breakfast the next morning, Arthur was already up and dressed, staring moodily out the window into the courtyard. He didn’t move when Merlin set the plate down on the table noisily.

“Sire, your breakfast,” Merlin tried. Arthur didn’t react. “Arthur.” Still nothing. “Alright then.”

Merlin sat at the table without another word and began to eat the meal himself. He saw Arthur turn to stare incredulously at him out of the corner of his eye but didn’t stop.

Arthur bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing. He was still upset that Merlin had kept such an important matter a secret, but it was hilarious every time Merlin tried to use a fork and a knife. He held the utensils so awkwardly in his hands and they kept slipping out of his grasp.

Finally Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle. Merlin turned to look at him, and asked with his mouth full of egg, “What’s so funny?”

“You are.”

Merlin looked offended but it was only for show. They both knew he was relieved to be on speaking terms with the king again, and that Arthur could never be truly angry at Merlin for long.

Merlin swallowed the large bit of food in his mouth. “Well, you weren’t going to eat it. And I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.” Royal food was much better than Ealdor food.

“I’ll eat it now then.” Arthur motioned for Merlin to get up and walked over. “But you owe me an explanation for last night.”

Merlin sat across from him. “So do you. You don’t just follow someone in the middle of the night like that. I almost killed you!”

There, he’d said it. The horrible truth that he’d been avoiding their whole relationship.

Arthur swallowed. “You wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t. Because you’re the king. Because I love you. But if it’d been a guard or a stable-boy? I wouldn’t have thought twice.”

“That’s not true.”

Merlin threw up his hands in defeat. “You still think I’m innocent, don’t you? What do I have to do to get you to understand, rip the head off a new-born?”

Arthur flinched at the graphic image in his head.

“Alright, so I wouldn’t do something quite so terrible as that. I mean, even I have morals.”

Arthur took a bite of food before answering. “I know you’re not a saint, Merlin. Believe me, I know. I guess sometimes I just like to forget.” He shrugged off the feeling of weakness that came with the admission. “But we’re not talking about that. We’re talking about why you got up in the middle of the night in the first place.”

“Kilgharrah was calling me.” Merlin shrugged his right shoulder.

“Is that the name of the dragon?”

“No, it’s the name of the cave. Of course that’s the name of the dragon,” Merlin replied sarcastically.

“There’s no need to be rude, Merlin. If anyone should be, it’s me. Imagine if I just slipped out of your arms without a word.” Arthur blushed and hurried to cover up the pain behind his words. “And what happened to ‘how do you get up in the morning?’ Don’t tell me I’ve spoiled you so rotten that you take my bed for granted.”

Merlin allowed himself a small smile at the memory. That moment when he entered Arthur’s room and laid in the bed the first time felt like a lifetime ago.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t even mean to wake you. And I know that’s not a good excuse,” Merlin rushed through the words before Arthur could reply. “The truth is, I didn’t want to worry you. You have a lot going on, being King and all, and then there was the whole situation with me and not giving away who I really was, and it was all just such a mess that I thought you’d be better off not knowing. I could just deal with it on my own.”

“Merlin—”

“No, I’m not done.” Merlin stopped him. “I knew that if I brought up the subject of magic, you’d focus more on that than of telling people about us. And I didn’t want that. I wanted to be recognised as your lover first and a sorcerer second. I didn’t tell you about Kilgharrah but look what happened anyways. You’ve spent the last few weeks ignoring me, planning out this big event to unban magic.” Arthur opened his mouth but Merlin held up his hand. “I’m grateful for that, don’t get me wrong. I think it’s wonderful that you feel so passionate about this, that you’re doing things so people like me won’t have to live in fear anymore. But it’s just not what I thought would happen.” He took a deep breath. “And that’s why I didn’t tell you about the dragon under the castle.”

“Merlin, if I didn’t work to lift the ban, and people found out you have magic, they’d be asking me why I won’t kill you. I’d be forced to tell them about us.”

“So this is still about keeping us a secret,” Merlin said, almost bitterly.

“Partly.”

“And when magic is no longer outlawed, when I’m safe, then you’ll tell people?”

“The amount of effort I put into this, I’ll then put into that. We had a plan, remember? Make people like you and respect you first, then let it slowly be known my feelings towards you.”

“Arthur, in case you haven’t noticed, people do like me. They do respect me. Just look at the Knights. The way they look at me and treat me sometimes makes me feel like they already know.”

Arthur thought back to the first day of spring training, Leon’s weird actions with Gwaine. If they did know, that conversation certainly made a lot more sense now.

“I suppose I’ll…hint at the possibility later today,” Arthur said. “I guess I understand your reasoning. You want to work on one thing at a time, just in a different order. Which is understandable coming from you. You know how to take care of yourself and don’t think you have anything to fear. But you still don’t really know the ways of the court, Merlin. Don’t try to handle things on your own when you don’t  have to.”

“Still treating me like a child, then,” Merlin muttered, crossing him arms.

“I’m done, Merlin.”

Because he was a servant, Merlin reluctantly stood and went to retrieve the king’s empty plate. But as soon as he was close, Arthur had his waist in his grip and one hand squeezed his arse rather roughly. This was one way to cheer Merlin up.

“We hardly have the time, sire. We’ve spent long enough arguing,” Merlin said. His resistance sounded weak even to him.

“If I’m to hint at our relationship to the Knights, what better way than to try explaining why I was late to the field?” Arthur replied from under Merlin’s tunic, where he pressed light kisses against his navel.

“Very true.”

Merlin slid the chair back to make enough room, and swung his leg over to straddle Arthur’s lap. He moved his hips back and forth in slow, purposeful motions. Arthur ran in hands up Merlin’s chest and their lips met.

“How late should I be?”

“How does half an hour sound?”

***

Half an hour turned out to be perfect timing. Leon was just about to take over and tell the bunch of sods to get up when Arthur ran up to the group, red-faced and out of breath, with Merlin trailing behind him.

“Sorry I’m late. You can all blame Merlin.”

“He’s right. I couldn’t figure out the codpiece.”

A few of the more immature Knights, as well as the new recruits snickered. Leon hushed them with a glare and Arthur sputtered.

“The cuirass, he means the cuirass!” The king corrected. “The fastening bit isn’t the only part of armour he needs to work on.”

“Right, the cuirass,” Merlin said. “That’s what I meant. So then, what’s a codpiece again?”

Arthur brought his palm to his forehead as snickering started up again. “Just…just wait over there, Merlin.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Merlin smiled as he walked off. He thought that went rather well.

***

“They definitely know,” Arthur told Merlin at supper that night.

“Do they know you know they know?”

“I don’t know.”

“I have to do everything, don’t I?” Merlin sighed.

“Oh no you don’t. What are you planning, Merlin?” Arthur asked warily.

“Nothing.”

“Merlin.”

“Just one of my usual verbal slip-ups,” Merlin gave in. “I’ll say something I’m not entirely supposed to in front of Leon or Gwaine and then they’ll have to tell me they know for certain. It’ll solve everything.”

“I’d say that sounds like a terrible idea, but I don’t exactly have a better one.”

“Exactly. I’ll use the cunning guise of being simple yet again and no one will be the wiser.” Merlin laughed dramatically.

Arthur shook his head and speared a piece of broccoli onto his fork. He didn’t want to know the details of Merlin’s plan.

***

The next day, Merlin walked into the armoury to begin polishing and ran into Leon. It was almost too perfect.

“Leon, just the man I was looking for.”

“Hello Merlin. What can I do for you?”

“You know how just yesterday Arthur was getting on me for not knowing my pieces of armour?”

A faint blush rose to Leon’s cheeks at the memory. “I do.”

“I was wondering if you could help me. If I ask Arthur he’ll just be intolerably smug about it, you know?”

“Of course.”

“Great. Let’s start with the codpiece then. I never got that question answered.”

The faint blush turned deep red. “Ah, that’s…” He searched the racks for the equipment. He found it and held it up to his waist. “It protects, er, this area here.”

“Oh! That’s why everyone was laughing.” Merlin began to laugh himself. “No wonder.” He took it from Leon and inspected it closely. “This isn’t nearly big enough for Arthur, though.” He nearly dropped the armour in his hands. “N-not that I’d know. I mean I do dress him and all so I know, but it’s not like I look or anything, at least not on purpose. I mean…Right, um, what about the shoulder pieces. I don’t understand the difference between spaulders and pauldrons.”

Leon took the codpiece from Merlin and put it back in its place.

“Er, Merlin, I don’t know exactly how to say this.”

“I’m not good at explaining this either. Just try your best. That’s what I always do.”

Leon shook his head. “I don’t mean about the armour. It’s about…well, it’s about you…and Arthur.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “What about us?”

“I know. That the two of you are, er, together.”

“You know?” Merlin gasped. It was all a bit comic really. He was surprised Leon didn’t see right through the act.

“All the Knights do. Well, most of them. The ones that don’t certainly suspect though.”

“But…but we’ve been so careful. We haven’t done anything anywhere except his chambers. And sometimes mine but—”

“It’s fine, Merlin. We’re all fine with it. We just didn’t know how to tell Arthur. You’ll tell him for us, won’t you?”

“Of course I will. He’ll be so pleased!”

Leon exhaled in relief. “Great. Now, the difference between spaulders and pauldrons—”

“Oh that. Yeah, I already know. Mounted combat, covers the armpit, and all that.” He waved his hand in the air dismissively. “I’ve got to go muck out the stables. I’ll see you later, Leon.”

Leon stared open-mouthed after the boy. He probably knew all along what a codpiece was too. That sly, conniving little cur!

Nobody, however, could stay mad at someone like Merlin for too long, and it was a bit funny when he thought about it.

***

“It’s done,” Merlin told Arthur when he reached his chambers that night. “Leon told me they all know. And they’re all fine with it.”

Merlin had expected some sort of visible weight to be lifted off Arthur’s shoulders, but no such thing happened.

“Arthur? Did you hear what I said?”

Arthur chewed his supper thoughtfully before he answered.

“I heard you, Merlin. I just don’t think they know all of it.”

“Of course they don’t know all of it.”

“What I mean is, they think I’m only using you for sex. It’s not uncommon for nobility to take advantage of their servants,” Arthur explained.

“Really?” The idea disturbed Merlin. How could anyone be so purposely cruel?

“Yes. They’d probably think differently if they knew my true feelings for you.”

“The only way you’ll know for sure is if you tell them.”

Arthur sighed. “I wasn’t ready to tell them this much. I’m definitely not going to share anything more anytime soon.”

Merlin felt rage building up inside him. His goal was so close, it was finally within reach, and he wouldn’t let it slip away so easily.

“Arthur, if you don’t tell them, I will.”

The King looked up at the sound of checked anger in Merlin’s voice. For a brief moment the memory of the tree snapping in half danced behind his eyes.

“Merlin—”

“If they surprised you with their acceptance this time, they could surprise you again. You were right about Camelot. The people are loyal to their King. They won’t think any less of you for loving a servant.”

“I understand what you’re saying, Merlin,” Arthur began cautiously. “But I’d really rather wait until after the summer council. Or at least until autumn comes again. You haven’t even been here a year.”

“You’ve known me a year. Or very nearly.”

“But the people haven’t. I don’t want to rush into things. For their benefit as well as my own.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you afraid you’ll change your mind about me? You want to be completely sure before you degrade yourself in front of the whole kingdom?”

Arthur threw down his fork and stood. “You want the truth, Merlin? You want to know what I really think?!”

“YES!” Merlin’s eyes glowed and the fire jumped. The doors to the wardrobes opened and slammed shut.

“I want to make sure something like that never happens again. I don’t want to have to worry about the castle suddenly exploding every time you get upset. I want to be certain you’ve got that beast inside of you under control!”

Arthur gestured to Merlin and the sorcerer looked down at himself. His hands were gripping the table and the magic thrumming beneath his fingertips were burning crescents into the wood. He tore his hands away and looked at his palms in shock.

After a moment, he shook his head. “I know I’m not always as…in control of myself as you’d like me to be. But I would never, never to do anything to hurt you or Camelot.”

Both thought unwillingly back to what happened in the forest, and Merlin stopped Arthur before he could say anything.

“That was months ago, Arthur. You know I’m better now.”

“Better, but not the best you can be,” Arthur pointed out. “Just wait the full year Merlin, please.”

As much as he wanted to, Merlin couldn’t disagree with that logic. “Fine,” he said and clenched his fists. “But I still think you should tell the Knights, even if you’re not going to publicly announce it to the people yet. They’ve sworn an oath to serve you no matter what.”

Merlin walked to the door but Arthur put a hand on his shoulder before he could open it.

“If the Knights are fine with it, there’s no reason for you to sleep away from me.” Don’t leave me, is what he meant. Don’t leave with things the way they are.

“But the servants might still talk. And I don’t feel much like sleeping with you tonight.” Merlin shrugged out of Arthur’s grasp, ignoring the hurt look on the King’s face. “Goodnight, sire.”

Merlin closed the door behind him and began to make his way back to his chambers. He only made it halfway down the hall before he slipped into an alcove and started banging his head against the wall.

He’d perfected his English, bathed more often, waited on Arthur hand and foot, and it still wasn’t enough to prove he’d changed. He wasn’t some wild, uncontrollable animal like Arthur seemed to believe. Yes, he had a bit of an anger problem, but he was handling it.

Merlin shook his head. He’d played with wolves as a kid, but he never thought of himself as one of them. He’d helped raise an orphaned and wounded bear cub, but he knew he wasn’t its real mother. Merlin knew he was human through and through. How could Arthur even suggest that he had a beast inside him?

Was it the sex? That had to be it, for what else could it be? Merlin was aware he made some unsettling noises and could be a bit rough, but Arthur never had a problem with that before, even seemed to like it, to encourage that he let loose a little.

But then, that was just sex. Letting his animal instincts take over in bed certainly didn’t pose a threat to the entire kingdom.

Merlin had half a mind to walk back in there and ask Arthur just what the hell he meant by “beast,” but then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped in surprise.

It was just Gwaine. Of all the Knights, he was closest with him.

“Oh. Hi, Gwaine.” He rubbed the tears out of his eyes, hoping his friend would mistake it for fatigue.

No such luck. “Are you alright, Merlin? You look like shit.”

Always had a way with words, that Gwaine. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Merlin. I heard about what happened in the armoury. Leon told you we know, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So why don’t you go to Arthur if you’re in such a rotten mood?”

He sighed. “Arthur is kind of the problem, actually.”

“I see.” Gwaine put an arm around the young manservant’s shoulders and turned him around. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

“Okay…”

“Now listen. I’ve seen the way Arthur looks at you. He obviously cares an awful lot about you. Probably more than he’s willing to admit.”

They were walking in the direction of Arthur’s room, and Merlin tried to get free but Gwaine had a killer grip.

“So whatever it is that’s happened, I’m sure you two will work through it. And remember that if you don’t, he’ll be completely intolerable and they rest of us will suffer.”

The Knight had set a brisk pace and they were now only twenty or so feet from the door.

“No matter who’s at fault, there’s always a solution. And love conquers all. Or so my sister tells me.”

Gwaine pushed open the door and Arthur looked up from his intense gaze into the fire.

“Found this one crying out in the corridor,” Gwaine announced, and Merlin glared at him. “Whatever’s going on between the two of you, kiss and make up. It looks like it’ll rain soon and I am not training out in the mud just because you’re in a terrible mood.”

Arthur stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the man’s blatant defiance.

“Gwaine, you can’t talk to the King like that,” Merlin stammered.

Gwaine pushed Merlin forward. “It’s for his sake that I do. Now settle this like rational adults before I go get reinforcements.”

He winked at the manservant and closed the door with a soft click. An awkward silence followed.

Finally, Arthur sighed and decided he’d be the one to break the tension.

“Crying, huh? Last time I saw you cry you thought I was dead.” Merlin said nothing, only stared at the floor. “I must have really upset you.”

“You called me a beast.” Merlin crossed his arms but still didn’t meet Arthur’s eyes.

“I said you had a beast inside you. There’s a difference.”

“Really? Because I don’t see it.”

“You know you have a tendency to get a little…a little…”

“Wild?” Merlin supplied.

“Yes, exactly. But you’re not like that all of the time. A beast hungers for blood, not knowledge, like you do. They can’t prepare miraculous potions that you can. You’re just a bit unpredictable. And, you know…scary,” Arthur admitted.

At that, Merlin did raise his gaze. “I scare you?”

Arthur shrugged a little and his eyebrows tilted upwards. “Sometimes, yeah.”

Arthur didn’t see Merlin move, only became aware of him sitting across his lap and wrapping his arms around his neck at the last second. He sat awkwardly for a moment, surprised and not knowing what to do with his hands, until finally he gave in and pulled Merlin in closer, burying his face in the red neckerchief.

“I had no idea,” Merlin said. “Ever since I found you wounded, all I’ve wanted to do is take care of you, protect you. I never meant—didn’t even think I could—frighten you.” He stroked the soft, blond hair reassuringly.

“I should have believed you when you said you weren’t innocent,” Arthur replied. “I should have realised how dangerous you could be. I never wanted to bring this up, but…ever since the forest, when you knocked me out.” Arthur felt Merlin tense. “I’ve been so afraid, Merlin. I didn’t want to say anything, I know how much it still hurts you, remembering what you did to me. I’m not angry with you, I never was. And I want you to be able to be yourself, not have to hide behind English and servitude, but the fact is I’m still scared. There are times when I feel if I don’t choose my words carefully, you’ll just snap again and you won’t be able to heal me next time.”

Merlin’s body shook with silent sobs and Arthur rubbed soothing circles into his back.

“But I still love you, Merlin. I always will, even if you do frighten me. You have to know that.”

It was a while before Merlin said anything. The minutes stretched on forever, and Arthur thought the man in his lap would never stop crying. It seemed a bit backwards to him. He’d just admitted that he was afraid of him, and yet he was the one doing the comforting. He’d never seen Merlin so weak before.

“I’m so sorry.”

Arthur wasn’t completely sure he hadn’t imagined it, until Merlin repeated it.

“I’m sorry, Arthur. And I—I understand why you want to wait. You’re right…about the beast inside of me. Some days I look to the forest and want to just take off running and it takes everything I have to stay put. Sometimes I look at these walls and want to smash them to pieces. Even in Ealdor I could escape from civilisation for a while.” Merlin sighed and brought his face down to look Arthur directly in the eyes. “But I’d rather die than leave your side. I belong wherever you are. You have to know that.”

Arthur couldn’t hold back the tears in his eyes anymore. “I do, Merlin, I do. Sometimes I wish I could just quit being King and run off with you. I know how much you hate it here. I know you miss the forest. And I hate feeling like there’s nothing I can do to make you happy again.”

“Shh.”

And that was it. The first word—sound, really—that he’d ever heard leave Merlin’s mouth, the one thing that seemed to make everything right again. It was Merlin letting him know to just shut up and be taken care of. To not worry about anything but getting better. That everything would be fine if he would just let Merlin take care of it.

And for a moment it felt like they were back in the cave, sitting against the stone wall with Arthur’s head on Merlin’s shoulder. It was before he left for three months to learn Dragon Tongue, before Ealdor, before the argument in the forest, before Camelot. They were just Merlin and Arthur back then, just a wounded man lucky enough to stumble into the cave of a friendly sorcerer.

“Don’t cry, my lord,” Merlin said softly, kissing the tears out of Arthur’s eyes. “Everything will be fine. You’ll hold the summer council, bring magic back to the land, and when the first leaf of autumn falls we’ll get through telling everyone together. If anything they will admire your honesty and be proud to have a King that loves despite societal boundaries. You must have faith in your people just as they have faith in you.”

Arthur said nothing. He knew he wasn’t expected to, knew he was expected only to sit there and be soothed.

“And I don’t hate it here. I get tired of it, sure, but I don’t hate it. And—”

Arthur yawned involuntarily and Merlin laughed.

“It’s late,” Merlin said as he stood up. He pulled Arthur to his feet and began undressing him. “We can talk tomorrow if you want. But I really don’t think there’s anything more to say.”

He stepped to the side and tilted Arthur so that he was able to pick him up and cradle him in his arms. Arthur gasped and wrapped his arms around Merlin’s neck, fearing he might fall.

But Merlin’s grip didn’t slip. Arthur realised for the first time that though Merlin looked thin and vulnerable, he was actually quite strong.

“I’ve got you,” Merlin whispered.

He carried Arthur over to the bed, pulled back the covers with his magic and tucked the king in.

“Where are you going?” Arthur asked when Merlin began to walk away. His voice came out small and weak. He didn’t like it.

“Gwaine’s been outside the whole time,” Merlin said, blushing. “I thought you knew.” Arthur shook his head. “Well, I’m just going to tell him everything’s alright now.  I’m not going to leave you again tonight. Not even if the dragon calls.”

He squeezed Arthur’s hand and walked to the door. He cracked it open just enough to put his face through. Gwaine turned and looked at him expectantly.

Merlin put his thumb up and smiled. “Thanks, Gwaine. You’re a good friend.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Gwaine laughed. “Seriously, though, it was no problem. Especially if it meant getting out of training tomorrow. I had plans to spend the rainy day at the tavern. And listen,” Gwaine leaned in closer. “He’s obviously mad about you. And he may put a brave face on, but trust me, he’s got feelings just like the rest of us. Just don’t—don’t do anything to hurt him, okay? He’s the only King we’ve got and we quite like it that way.”

Merlin swallowed the lump rising in his throat. If only Arthur could hear those words.

“Gwaine, the truth is, the reason we were fighting…it was mainly about when to tell you and the rest of the Knights. You obviously know we’re…intimate…but he didn’t think you realised how serious he was about me. And it’d be great if you could, you know, let him know that there’s nothing to worry about. He thinks he’ll lose your respect.”

“He thinks what?!” Gwaine shouted. “Let me in there!”

Merlin held the door closed with his foot (and a bit of magic—Gwaine was really strong). “No! Tomorrow, tell him tomorrow. He’s resting now.”

“Merlin, you know how my sister says ‘love conquers all?’ There’s another thing she told me: you can’t pick who you fall in love with. Me and the Knights all know that. Okay, maybe not some of the younger ones, but they’re naïve and only think about fucking anyways.”

Merlin smiled. “That’s great news, Gwaine. Really great. But it’ll have to wait till tomorrow.”

“Alright, alright, I get the hint. The young lads aren’t the only ones thinking about fucking.”

Merlin blushed. “No, Gwaine, he actually is resting. I’m not—”

“Whatever you say, Merlin. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with a wink, he walked off.

Merlin sighed and closed the door softly. That Gwaine was something else.

He stripped and got into bed beside Arthur, pressed his back into Arthur’s chest and curled inward for warmth.

“What was the yelling about?” Arthur mumbled.

“Shh, Arthur. Just go to sleep.” And Arthur did.

***

When Merlin woke up, it was to light kisses on the back of his neck.

“Morning,” Arthur breathed into his ear.

“Mmmm, morning.” Merlin turned over so he could be kissed properly. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. I always sleep better with you in my bed.”

“That’s not always true.” Merlin smirked. “Sometimes you don’t sleep at all.”

“I’m not sleeping now. And here you are, laying naked next to me.” He trailed a finger slowly down Merlin’s chest. “That wasn’t very nice of you, Merlin. Dressing me for bed and then slipping in next to me wearing nothing.”

“My night clothes are down in my room. I would never do something so cruel on purpose.”

“Oh, never,” Arthur repeated mockingly.

“But if my being naked bothers you.” Merlin placed his hand on the crotch of Arthur’s trousers. “And I see that it does. Allow me to remove the source of the problem.”

Before Arthur could react, Merlin rolled over and out of the bed.

“Merlin!”

“Sorry, Arthur, but I actually have things to do today. Important things. Not something boring like reading official documents all day,” Merlin said, looking every bit like a mischievous sprite.

“Well, can’t you at least…I don’t know, use your magic to…to…do something about this?” Arthur gestured to the tent in the blanket, blushing.

Merlin laughed. “I don’t think there’s a spell for something like that. If there was, trust me, I’d know it by now.” Merlin pointed at himself. “Grew up in a cave, remember?”

Merlin began getting dressed, much to the annoyance of Arthur.

“I can’t believe you’re just going to leave me here like this.” Arthur said, pouting. “I’m the king, you know.”

“And therefore raised a spoiled brat, no doubt. Little Prince Arthur probably got everything he ever wanted, huh?” Merlin chided jokingly.

“Not everything,” Arthur muttered.

“I’ll be back in a moment with breakfast, then I really must be off.”

Merlin slipped into his jacket and gave Arthur a quick kiss. But before he could pull away Arthur had his arms gripped firmly in his grasp.

“Arthur.”

“Merlin.”

“I do know a spell that temporarily paralyses you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“You said you’d never hurt me.”

“But that’s the great thing about paralysis. You won’t be able to feel a thing.”

Merlin grinned wickedly and Arthur gulped. “Merlin.”

“Arthur.”

“You’re—you’re scaring me again.”

“Oh! Right, sorry, I was only kidding! I mean, you know I wouldn’t actually—”

“Yeah, I know. It’s my fault anyways.”

Arthur really did not want a repeat of last night. He cringed just remembering how pathetic he’d been. And Merlin had carried him into bed. Like a child. He’d never acknowledge that some part deep (very deep) inside of him had actually liked being taken care of.

Merlin looked like he wanted to disagree, say that it was his fault, that he was in the wrong, but one look at Arthur’s face and he thought better of it. It was obvious that Arthur was uncomfortable admitting to weakness.

That must have ruined the mood because Arthur loosed his hold on Merlin’s arms and let him go. Merlin kissed him again before hurrying off toward the door.

“Gwaine wanted to talk to you today,” Merlin said over his shoulder. “I know you usually do something by yourself for dinner but I was thinking that that would be as good a time as any. I can prepare something special if you like.”

Arthur stood up, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds fine. I don’t think I’ll need anything special though; it’s just Gwaine.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in a moment then.”

Arthur dressed and walked over to his desk, paging briefly through whatever it was Geoffrey had sounded so stressed about. Something to do with bandits raiding the city’s main source of grain as well as nearby villages. What idiot bandit leader would tell his men to attack a powerful city like Camelot, Arthur had no idea.

He dropped the stack of papers back onto the desk with a sigh just as Gwaine burst in.

“I need to speak with you, sire.”

Arthur gaped. Nobody but Gwaine would rush into the king’s chambers unannounced. And Merlin, of course.

“I haven’t even had breakfast yet, Gwaine.”

“Well then, we’ll talk over breakfast. I haven’t eaten either actually. Came as soon as I knew you were awake.”

“And how did you know I was awake?”

“I saw Merlin running through the halls.”

Gwaine said it as if it was obvious and Arthur blushed. “He told me you wanted to talk today, but that during dinner would probably be best. He didn’t say about what, but it must be pretty important.”

“It is. Last night, Merlin said—”

Just then Merlin picked that moment to come in, holding a tray of hot food triumphantly.

“There wasn’t much left since we woke up a bit late, but I managed to find some ham and warmed it up with mag—Gwaine!” Merlin nearly dropped the tray.

Gwaine looked at Merlin like he had two heads. Then back to Arthur. Then back to Merlin.

“Was that even English you were speaking?” He asked. He looked to Arthur. “You heard him talking nonsense, right? I’m not going crazy, am I?”

Arthur stared at Merlin, willing him to say something. Merlin stared ignorantly at Gwaine, trying unsuccessfully to play the idiot manservant.

It wouldn’t work with Gwaine, who knew Merlin better than Leon.

“Merlin? Arthur? One of you say something!”

“Is it okay if I tell him the truth?” Merlin asked.

“I meant in English!”

“It doesn’t really look like we have another choice,” Arthur replied.

“Not you too,” Gwaine groaned. “Will one of you please tell me what’s going on?”

Merlin switched to English. “English isn’t my first language. Dragon Tongue is.”

“Dragon Tongue,” Gwaine echoed. “Am I supposed to know what that is?”

Arthur fought the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s a language just like any other,” he said. “It’s just a really old language.”

“And you just happen to know how to speak it.”

“I did not just ‘happen to know.’ I taught myself.” That time Arthur did roll his eyes. It was obvious really.

“So all that time you spent holed up in here when we brought you back from killing that monster. That was…”

“Me learning Dragon Tongue, yes.”

“And when you disappeared for a week, refusing to let any of us follow you. That was…”

“Me putting my Dragon Tongue to good use.”

Gwaine shivered. “I really did not want that image in my head.”

Arthur blushed beet red and Merlin laughed at the implication.

“That’s—that’s not what I meant!” Arthur exclaimed.

“I know. But the image is there anyways.” Gwaine shook his head as if to clear his mind. “And the blow we saw you take. In the shoulder. The reason it was miraculously healed when we found you—”

“That’d be my doing.” Merlin smiled sheepishly.

“How did you just happen to nearby?” Gwaine asked suspiciously. “Did you follow us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Gwaine,” Arthur snapped.

Merlin got upset at the implied meaning. “You were in my forest. If anyone has a right to be suspicious, it’s me,” he pointed out. “I never understood why you came all the way to hunt a beast I was perfectly capable of handling.”

“Your forest? And you killed that thing? This is too much at once.”

“Yes, my forest. And if I hadn’t been so scared of you I would have told you off at the time for trespassing.”

 “You’re not saying you lived there, are you? There were no buildings or even hovels in sight.”

“You wouldn’t have found my cave unless you were looking for it.”

Arthur gave Merlin a pointed look, warning him not to give too much away. They were telling the truth, but not the whole truth.

“Please tell me that’s a euphemism for something. You didn’t actually live in a cave, did you?”

Merlin sighed. “What’s so bad about living in a cave? Why does everyone make such a big deal about it?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the spiders, the cold stone floors, the constant threat of the ceiling falling down on top of you?”

“Well if you’ve lived in a bright, noisy city your whole life I suppose the idea isn’t all that appealing,” Merlin retorted. “But if it’s the only way of living you’ve ever known, it seems just fine.” He crossed his arms defiantly.

Gwaine stared at Merlin, trying to fit the image he had of a clean, cheeky manservant into that of a dirty, cave-dwelling young man. He couldn’t.

“And you,” Gwaine turned to Arthur, who’d been watching the two bicker from off to the side. “Why didn’t you tell us about this? We’ve been worrying about that shoulder wound of yours. When you refused to say how it healed on its own we assumed it was sorcery. Why not just tell us about Merlin then?”

It was no secret among the knights that Arthur planned to bring magic back to the kingdom. A few of the newer ones, who’d been raised under Uther’s harsh rule, didn’t fully agree with the move, but weren’t so upset that they’d rise against him.

Still, he wasn’t about to tell Gwaine a sorcerer had been living with them for the past seven months.

“Well, you know of my…relationship with Merlin,” Arthur began hesitantly. “I hadn’t planned for you to find out—at least not so soon. But I thought it would be more…acceptable if people believed I was involved with a servant rather than a—well, someone who doesn’t even fit into the hierarchy at all. I thought maybe if you knew where Merlin really came from, it would just make things worse.”

“Gwaine.” Merlin nudged the man softly. “Now might be a good time to speak with him about that thing you told me last night.”

Gwaine nodded and sat down at the table. “Right. But let’s eat while we talk. We’ve let this food get cold enough.”

“We?” Arthur repeated.

“Don’t forget that I haven’t eaten either.” Gwaine smiled sweetly.

“Neither has Merlin but even he never asks to—”

“Arthur, it’s fine,” the manservant interrupted. “I can go find something for Gwaine downstairs.”

“No, Merlin. I think when I’m done, Arthur will be more than happy to share some of this with me.”

Without any further notice he reached out and grabbed a slice of ham, shoving it greedily into his mouth.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Arthur pulled the plate away. “You’ll get more if what you say pleases me.”

“Okay then. I’ll get right to it.” Gwaine swallowed his food thickly and folded his hands on the table, focusing on the king with a serious look. “We know you love Merlin.”

Arthur nearly choked on the piece of bread he was chewing and Merlin calmed him by rubbing his back.

“We thought when Leon told Merlin about us knowing, the whole ‘being in love’ part went without saying. But then last night Merlin tells me you thought you’d lose our respect if we knew how you really felt about him and I wanted to disagree right then and there. I assume you heard the yelling?”

“I did.”

“Well, Merlin insisted you were resting and wouldn’t let me in. But you have to understand, Merlin is more than a servant to us. He’s our friend. We’re fine with whoever you fall in love with, but for it to be Merlin is a reward for us as well,” Gwaine explained.

“I told you they’d be fine with it,” Merlin said to Arthur in Dragon Tongue. “I told you they’d remain loyal to you no matter what.”

“Yes, Merlin, you told me. No need to be obnoxious about it.”

“Mind speaking English for the normal one?” Gwaine complained.

Arthur stared at the table for a moment, saying nothing. Gwaine was about to ask if he’d heard him when the plate suddenly slid across the table. Gwaine dug in hungrily.

“Thank you for your support, Gwaine,” he said. “Extend my thanks to the rest of the Knights as well. But let them know that the citizens of Camelot are not to find out. About any kind of intimacy between me and Merlin. I need…I want to…wait a bit longer before I tell everyone.”

“Of course, my lord. I understand.”

“And don’t—don’t tell them about Merlin having lived in a cave. Let’s just keep that between us.”

“I don’t think they’d care either way, but I’ll respect your wishes.” He stood and nodded a final goodbye to the King. “Have a nice day, sire. Thanks for the food.”

When the door shut behind Gwaine, Merlin squeezed Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur looked up curiously to see Merlin grinning like an idiot.

“Oh, don’t look so smug about it, Merlin.”

“Smug? Who’s smug? Certainly not me. I’m just happy that everything turned out alright.”

“Come here, Merlin.”

Arthur slid back from the table to allow space for Merlin to sit across his lap. He’d learned many things from the previous night, one of them being that he rather liked having Merlin cuddle up to him in his lap like this.

Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck and rested his head on his shoulder. “Just think,” Arthur breathed into his ear. “In a few months this place will be filled with royalty from across the land, all eager to hear my proposal and celebrate another good summer. There’ll be wine, dancing, plays, jesters. A couple days will have to be serious, of course, for the council. But I’ve set it up so that it takes place in the middle of the week, so nobody comes or leaves with a sour expression.”

“And then autumn?” Merlin asked. He sounded a bit like a child being told a bedtime story and Arthur chuckled.

“Yes, and then autumn. Then I think you—we—will be ready to tell everyone.”

Merlin had begun nibbling gently on Arthur’s earlobe and the king could already feel blood rushing downward.

“What happened to being really busy today?” Arthur questioned.

“The forest can wait. Gwaine’s news has put me in a good mood.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “The forest. Of course. And here I thought you were in a hurry to do your chores like a good little manservant.”

“Nope.”

“Well, I actually am busy today.”

“Please? It’ll only take a moment.” Merlin pleaded.

“If it’ll only take a moment, I don’t think it’s really worth it.”

Merlin groaned. “Arthur.”

Arthur smiled. It wasn’t too long ago that he was begging Merlin of the same thing. But mostly he smiled because when it came to Merlin, he was a complete push-over. And both men knew it.

“Well, I suppose those documents can wait.”