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Arthur should have figured Morgana would be the first to figure things out. It was only the next day that she was smirking at Arthur from across the training yard, as she stood watching with Gwen and Merlin, who both seemed oblivious to her knowing glance. Arthur felt his face reddening, underneath his helmet, at the possibility of his innermost feelings for his manservant being poked and prodded at by his sister--he hoped she would simply not say anything--but he was not stupid, and he would never be so lucky.
He managed to drag himself across the muddy field once training was done, trudging through the fallen leaves littering the ground, as if to his doom, Morgana’s lips still curled in mischief as he approached. He handed his blunt sword off to Merlin, their fingers brushing against the hilt for just a moment, and he tried to ignore the way he could feel Morgana’s eyes on him, tried to focus just on Merlin’s shy smile, and the fluttering of his stomach at the warmth of their small bit of contact.
“Thank you, Merlin. Would you please meet me in my chambers after you’ve returned my sword to the armory? I think I should like to bathe, I seem to have gotten even filthier than usual,” Arthur spoke, his voice gentle, meant only for Merlin’s ears. Merlin just nodded, cheeks red, though whether that was from Arthur’s gentleness or the coolness hanging in the air, Arthur was unsure.
Autumn seemed to be dawning on them all at once, and the grey sky was hiding much of the warm sunlight which had shined plentifully only the day before. As he watched Merlin’s retreating form, the pale skin of his neck showing where his thin scarf did not cover it fully, the sudden thought of a thicker neck scarf, one knitted from soft wool and embroidered with intricate designs, entered Arthur’s mind. Merlin, wrapped up in it, smiling with little patches of red on his cheeks, warm and safe. The thought settled in Arthur’s mind like sweet honey, louder than all of his other thoughts, making itself feel important and pertinent.
It was only then that he was shaken from his reverie by a cough from Morgana, and he spun around on his heels, his helmet clutched under one arm, clanging against his vambrace.
Morgana narrowed her eyes, holding Arthur’s gaze, before turning to Gwen, giving her maidservant a bright smile.
“Gwen, would you leave us for just a moment?”
Gwen nodded, looking between the sister and brother for only a second, curiosity in her eyes, before she took her leave, heading back towards the castle, shoes crunching over the dead leaves. Once she was well out of earshot, Morgana turned back to Arthur, her smile smaller, but not gone. Arthur crossed his arms.
“ Oh don’t worry , Arthur, it’s not as if I’m going to tell the whole castle,” Morgana smirked, and Arthur just scoffed, looking sideways into the distance, eyes peeling over the bright orange and yellow leaves shaking on the trees, which swayed with the cold wind in their multitude at the edge of the large training field.
“I wouldn't put it past you.” His voice was quiet, giving away much more than he’d intended. He met his sister’s eyes again, and she wasn’t smirking anymore--the warmth that she normally guarded so heavily with wit or jest bled through, and Arthur found himself feeling comforted, despite everything. Comforted enough to ask, “How did you figure it out so quickly?”
Morgana pursed her lips, giving a look that told Arthur she was thinking very hard about how to answer.
“You weren’t exactly doing yourself any favors, manhandling Merlin out of the great hall for everyone to see. . .”
And Arthur sighed, because she was right. It wasn’t that he was ashamed to have his affections known about--he still felt the same as the night before, he wanted everyone to know that Merlin was his, and that he was Merlin’s. But the reality of the situation wasn’t that easy. His father’s wrath was what worried him so. Arthur wasn’t certain what Uther would do, should the King become aware that his son was hopelessly smitten with his manservant . But he understood, having grown up in Uther’s shadow, constantly witness to the King’s cruelty and penchant for spitefulness, that it would probably be Merlin who would be punished--most likely with nothing less than banishment, maybe even death--and that thought alone was dreadful enough to crumble the pride which usually kept him from begging, making him plead with his sister, voice suddenly raw:
“ Don’t let word spread. Dispel any rumors you can, Morgana, people will listen to you.”
Morgana’s eyes softened, and she was nodding firmly--she understood the gravity of it all, Arthur was certain.
“ Of course , Arthur. I don’t want to see him hurt anymore than you do.”
Arthur smiled, small and grateful, nodding as well. As he was turning to take his leave, making it only a few steps away, Morgana added, familiar jest once again lacing her voice, although not entirely,
“Not long ago I would have told you you didn’t deserve him. . . I don’t believe that anymore.” Arthur paused midstep, his back to his sister.
“Take care of him. Gods know he’s always done the same for you.”
Arthur didn’t turn around, but the firm set of his shoulders was answer enough, as he began walking once more towards the castle, crushing the brown, brittle leaves underfoot. The autumn sky brewed with fat, gray clouds above his head, and raindrops began spattering the ground, pittering lightly, then gathering in number, until a steady downpour was falling, soaking everyone thoroughly in seconds.
---
Merlin kneeled at the edge of the washbasin. He dragged the soft wet cloth against Arthur’s bare shoulders, soapy water washing away the layer of sweat and dirt which seemed to cover his whole body. Arthur’s knees were pulled up against his chest; He was submerged in his warm bathwater, up to the middle of his torso. His chamber was quiet, except for the trickling of the water running down his back, dripping in excess from the cloth, to make little ripples on the glassy surface. The rain tapped lightly against his windows, too, an ever present ambiance.
Merlin folded the cloth over the lip of the washbasin, bringing his hands up to caress through Arthur’s golden hair, turning it darker with wetness. Arthur hummed, leaning back into the touch.
“Morgana knows . . about us,” he spoke, his voice low, almost echoing in the expanse of his chamber. He wanted his lover to know--wanted him to know everything that he knew himself. Merlin’s hands never stopped their caressing, as he murmured,
“And how do we feel about that?”
Arthur turned his whole body to face Merlin, water sloshing up against the sides of the basin, and Merlin’s hands hung in the air, still in their movement. Arthur pressed his own hands to Merlin’s, gently lacing their fingers together, lowering them to rest next to the dripping cloth.
“She won’t tell a soul, she is going to dispel any rumours . . . I know she may be a gossip by nature, but she is not cruel. She understands father’s unpredictable nature better than most,” Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hands when his lover swallowed and looked down at the mention of the King. His heart ached knowing there was someone causing Merlin fear, and knowing he had no power against that person.
“Sweetheart, look at me,” he sighed, and Merlin raised his eyes immediately, nearly knocking the breath from Arthur’s chest with the intensity of his gaze, that shocking blue beauty. Arthur held Merlin’s hands more firmly, speaking steadily. “I promise with everything I have--promise on everything that I am, I shall keep you safe, Merlin, always .”
Merlin looked away again, off to the side, and Arthur dropped one of his hands to grip his jaw, to draw his face closer, locking their eyes in a way that Merlin could not avoid. Arthur wanted to kiss him, and he almost did, but then Merlin spoke.
“No matter what?” His voice was timid, and the question, along with Merlin’s tone, was so curious to Arthur, so unexpected.
“ Of course , Merlin, no matter what.” Arthur’s knees were still pressed up to his chest, and he unfolded them, now, instead, kneeling in the water, stomach connecting with the side of the basin as he leaned his forehead against Merlin’s, closing his eyes softly.
Merlin let out a small sob, and it sent Arthur’s heart plummeting down to his stomach, a sharp piercing worry making him open his eyes, pulling back to look Merlin over quickly. He was very confused, why was Merlin crying?
“ Hey--hey, shhh, Merlin--Merlin what’s wrong ?” Arthur spoke softly, hands settling over Merlin’s shoulders. His lover’s eyes were dripping with tears, rolling down his cheeks in fat rivulets, as steady as the rain falling outside, and he bit his bottom lip, looking so pained, and frightened. It was such a jarring change, so quick, Arthur’s head was swimming, as the worry in his chest grew.
“ I have--I have something I have to tell you, Arthur,” he said through another sob, and Arthur could tell it was taking all of Merlin’s strength to keep his voice calm. Gods, Arthur’s heart was breaking.
“ Something to tell me ? Baby, whatever it is, it’s alright, I promise. Please don’t cry,” He made to hold Merlin’s face in his hands again, but Merlin backed away, slightly, on his knees, putting space in between them. He took one deep breath, then another, his eyes closed tight, his fists gripping his trousers at his thighs, white-knuckled.
“I wanted to tell you last night--wanted you to know, because you were making promises, and it wasn’t fair--to you--you didn’t know the truth--” He stopped speaking to stutter in another breath, through his nose, eyes still closed, “And I won’t hate you if you change your mind, Arthur--I could never hate you, Gods , never ever--” He opened his eyes, finally, finding Arthur’s concerned ones, his jaw set firm, even as his lip wobbled again. “ Please don’t hate me,” he cried, tears glistening all the way down his neck now, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to climb out of the basin and hold Merlin, to make everything okay, because his precious darling was so scared . Scared of Arthur , in that moment, or scared that he’ll hate him, for whatever it was that Merlin had to tell him. An insane thought, one that burned harshly in Arthur’s mind, stinging and blistering. But he couldn’t move, he just gripped the edge of the basin, eyes steady on Merlin’s, as he said in a voice that sounded far off, and not like his own:
“ Never.”
Merlin swallowed, staring in silence for several moments, as if trying to read Arthur’s mind, looking for reassurance. Then he said, in a voice that shook, jaw clenched tight:
“ I have magic. I’m a--a sorcerer, Arthur.”
Arthur thought the world stopped for a moment. The sounds seemed to go away, the rain no longer tapping against his windows, the bathwater no longer lapping at his skin. All he could hear was a rush in his ears, and Merlin’s face was pale before him, splotchy with red over his cheeks, eyes wide and frightened, and that shocked Arthur back into the moment, back into what Merlin just said. He felt weird--weird as in he felt he should be feeling certain things. . .things like anger, or betrayal--but he just wasn’t . It was as if everything he’d ever known, the lifetime of hatefulness his father had thrust upon him, all that rage against magic, it was simply evaporating, like a mist, seeping out of him quicker than he could comprehend. What was left was everything else: most heavily, love --and who was before him was his Merlin, trembling, afraid that Arthur would hurt him.
Heart breaking, but determination quickly gathering, he lifted himself from the basin, water dripping all over the floor; He paid it no mind at all.
“ MerlinMerlinMerlin,” he whispered, as he crouched against his lover's side, his naked skin prickling with goosebumps. He wrapped his arms around Merlin, then, pulled him in, and even when he lost his balance with the force of Merlin collapsing against him, and he landed on the cold floor, he never let go, he kept his whole body wrapped around the man he loved, loved not despite of anything, but because of everything. Merlin was still crying, body shaking with sobs, but Arthur was holding his head to his chest, whispering out with a certainty he suddenly felt deep within him--he believed everything he said more than any man believed in any gospel:
“I love you, Merlin, I love you, Gods, I love you more than everything--I love your magic--if it’s a part of you, I love it--don’t have to even think about it, I love it--” Arthur felt his own tears running down his cheeks, as he buried his face in Merlin’s hair, breathing in deep, feeling his lover still in his arms, heard his voice, a tiny thing whimpered against Arthur’s chest,
“You don’t hate me?”
“ No, baby, never ever--I’ll never hate you, don’t ever think that. Everything I’ve ever thought about magic, it was wrong--it was all wrong, so wrong. If you are a sorcerer--there’s no chance it is evil, it is out of the question, out of my mind. ”
Merlin’s voice, again, quiet and muffled,
“ And I’m still yours?”
Arthur groaned deep in his chest, the words cutting through to his heart, his arms squeezing Merlin tighter, everywhere.
“ Oh, sweetheart, yes, yes--always--you could never be anything but mine. I promised you before, I promise you again, Merlin, I’m going to keep you safe. Don’t think for a moment that I’d ever let someone hurt you--I’d tear down anyone who tries. You are mine. ” He emphasized the last part with a desperate kiss to Merlin’s hair, before he let his head drop once again, cheek resting against the dark locks.
They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, silently calming from the intensity of everything, until the rain stuttered to a stop outside, and a patch of sunlight etched it’s way through a window, brightening the floor where they sat. Arthur’s skin warmed, a reminder that he was still bare, pressed to Merlin’s clothed body completely, in every way. But he wasn’t aroused--wasn’t thinking about that at all--this embrace was far more important than that.
Into the quiet silence, Arthur asked,
“Can you show me?”
Merlin raised his head, looking at Arthur with uncertainty, still, and Arthur added,
“ Please . I’d like to see what you can do.”
A smile molded it’s way onto Merlin’s face, his lips quirking up just the tiniest bit.
“I can do anything,” He whispered, his voice still raw, but steadier now, before he held up his hand right in front of Arthur’s face, palm facing the ceiling, and chanted a series of words in a language that harkened back to ancient times--and yet they sounded perfectly in place, coming out of Merlin’s mouth. A small blue light gathered in the center of his palm, swirling into a little ball, seeming to form out of thin air, glowing and pulsating steadily. Arthur’s eyes widened--he recognized that light.
“All this time-- it was you all this time?”
Merlin blushed, nodding, looking at Arthur with love and devotion, and Arthur suddenly saw the gold flashing in his lover’s eyes--piercing and bright--and he took in a sharp breath, feeling utterly amazed.
“I only ever use it for you. . .only to keep you safe.” Merlin said, the blue light washing over his features, casting deep shadows at the sides of his face--he was all sharp angles, strong lines--he was powerful, and Arthur was so in love.
Arthur felt he could melt into the floor, his heart was overflowing with comfort and warmth, as he understood Merlin’s words. He never asked for any credit. Never sought recognition. He did it all because of love--love for Arthur.
He held up his own hand, hovering it tentatively above Merlin’s, finger’s nearly brushing the ball of light.
‘Can I touch it?”
Merlin nodded, his small smile growing wider, drawing Arthur’s eyes to his, blue against gold. Then Arthur looked back to the light, and very slowly let his index finger dip down into the swirling mass of energy. He almost startled, not because it hurt, but because it felt so familiar , somehow, like this ball of light was an extension of Merlin himself. That’s exactly what it is , he thought, as he brought two more fingers down into it, moving them lightly, feeling the way the light bent around them, a physical thing. His face was one of awe, eyes widened, mouth parted just slightly even though he was barely taking in air--he was transfixed by this magic--he’d never seen it this close before, never actually felt it . Merlin shifted slightly under his other arm, his hand which held the light twitching only minutely, as Arthur’s fingers pressed all the way through the swirling blue ball, touching Merlin’s palm softly. Then Merlin moved his hand fully, gently laced his fingers with Arthur’s, making the prince gasp. The blue light diminished gradually, shining through the small crack between where their palms met, and where their fingers were intertwined, like nothing Arthur had ever felt before, until at last it faded completely, leaving Arthur’s hand tingling in warmth.
Arthur met Merlin’s eyes again; They’d gone back to blue, and there were tears once again filling them.
“I never . . .” Arthur said quietly, hand squeezing Merlin’s tighter, like a reminder of what just happened, “I never knew it could be so beautiful.”
A little tear slipped it’s way down Merlin’s cheek, and Arthur couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He leaned in to kiss Merlin softly, his hand not being held cradling Merlin’s back firmly. This was not a kiss of wanton--this was a kiss of reassurance--this was Arthur telling Merlin that he would never again have to hide any part of himself from him. It was Arthur asking for Merlin to let him know everything, because Arthur would accept it without question. Merlin kissed him back readily, as if he were grasping onto Arthur through the press of their lips, just as he was with his arm around Arthur’s torso, and their hands still intertwined tightly. It was then that Arthur recognized the feeling which seemed to melt from Merlin’s mouth--that warm tingle, which he’d felt the day before, but been unable to name or make any sense of. It was Merlin’s magic, and Arthur was swooning with the realization, understanding that it had been there all along.
---
The rest of the day went by in a haze. Arthur could barely remember how they had managed to untangle themselves eventually, and Merlin dressing him was fuzzy, as well, for all Arthur had been able to focus on was the way Merlin smiled, like he’d never seen him smile before, brighter and easier and so relieved . Arthur had shuddered to think how long Merlin had lived in fear of being found out--the relief must have been all consuming.
Afternoon council with his father had been a drawn out bore, as it usually was, leaving Arthur plenty of time to think over the events of the morning, to fully grasp the fact that his Merlin was a sorcerer, and a powerful one at that. As he tried to halfway-listen to the king drone on about the repairs needed to be done to the castle before winter was upon them, he couldn’t help the sharp sting of worry which overcame him, for he realized suddenly that whatever wrath he had been worried about Merlin suffering earlier would only be worse now, should his father ever find out about their relation, or Merlin’s magic. If it was the latter, Arthur knew the punishment would be death, there would be no way to dissuade Uther’s verdict. Arthur swallowed the horrible feeling the thought induced; He would keep his promise to Merlin. His father would never find out.
It was only after dinner, when darkness had fallen once more over Camelot, in the soft candle light of Arthur’s chambers, that time began to slow down again, and Arthur felt he could relax. The rain had started up again, pounding against the windows harshly, louder than earlier.
Merlin’s breathy moans were almost too quiet to be heard over the incessant tapping, but Arthur relished in them all the more because of that, fucking Merlin into his bed with a gentleness that soothed his heart. Merlin’s eyes were wet with tears; He lay naked on his back, arms and legs wrapped around Arthur’s bare frame, clinging to his body with desperation, as if he couldn’t believe he was still allowed to have this--and that just made Arthur fuck into him harder, because he needed Merlin to know that nothing had changed, that he was still Arthur’s, that that would never change , no matter what. And when Merlin came undone with Arthur inside of him, Arthur could place the warm tingling sensation that raced up his own spine, could finally name the feeling he’d known for so long, but never really understood. Merlin’s magic flowed from his body, just as his release flowed from his cock, and the incredible reality of it all brought Arthur over the edge, made him stutter in his soft thrusts to spill himself inside of Merlin, who gasped and whimpered in pleasure, tugging Arthur’s head down to kiss him with a fierceness that made Arthur’s head spin.
Laying together in their afterglow, Merlin’s pale skin pressed all over Arthur’s more golden hued, Arthur’s arms holding Merlin against his chest, they began to speak, their soft voices staying within the confines of Arthur’s four-poster.
“I want to hear about everything.” Arthur’s voice was deep with the after effects of their love making, and Merlin shivered at the vibration, cheek pressed against the prince’s chest, looking up at Arthur with half lidded eyes.
“I’m not even sure where to begin. . .” Merlin said, the fingers of his left hand lightly brushing over a scar which ran along Arthur’s outer ribs. It was a slash of white against tanned gold, and Arthur briefly remembered the sword which had given it to him--the enemy who had thrust it--and the swift death that had followed. Merlin was looking at the scar, too, then, almost transfixed, and Arthur wondered what he could be thinking.
“How about the beginning?” Arthur rolled his shoulder, making Merlin look up at him again, and his lover smiled, small and sheepish. The light from the candle at Arthur's bedside seemed to soften everything--made Merlin look younger, somehow, more fragile. And yet Arthur could feel the steady hum of his magic, now, could recognize the immense power which lay just under his lover's skin, dormant but awaiting nonetheless, like a gentle beast which could ravage a man if it felt threatened. He knew Merlin was anything but fragile.
And Merlin began to tell him everything . He told Arthur of every time he’d saved his life with magic--every time he’d risked his life, just to keep Arthur safe. He told him of everything he could do with magic, how he’d been told by the Druids that he was supposedly the most powerful sorcerer to ever live . . . something that had made Arthur’s heart jump with incredible admiration, as well as a good amount of panic at the implications of a prophecy such as that. This was all still so new, it was a bit of a whirlwind to wrap his brain around all that he was learning in such a brief amount of time. He guessed Merlin could read that in his face, because after an hour or so he finally let his voice fade, almost catching his breath from how fast he’d been talking. Arthur wanted to hear more, and he knew Merlin had plenty more to tell him, but they had all the time in the world.
“You’re extraordinary, Merlin,” Arthur sighed, as he gently let his lover slide off of his chest and onto his bed, so that he could duck down and kiss him senseless. Merlin was laughing into it, giggling with a freshness that felt purifying, as Arthur laced both of their hands together, pressing Merlin’s against his bed on either side of his head. He couldn’t help the wide grin that crept it’s way onto his own face, making it harder to kiss Merlin, their teeth clashing and their bellies aching with intimate laughter. Arthur couldn’t find a single reason to complain.