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If there was one place in the world where Arthur could truly be himself - free from any weight and responsibility - that was there, in his rooms. They were his space, uncontaminated and protected, in which he could lower his defences and be, for a few moments, a man like many others. Everything, every object inside there had a calming effect on him. His bed with the damask blankets and the Pendragon red canopy; his desk cluttered with parchments and ink; the long fir table, scarred with burns where candle wax had once dripped. And last but non least, his favourite corner: the stone fireplace where a flame was always burning and beside which, as always, Merlin was rolled up like a cat.
Arthur smiled.
That view, more than anything else, could relax and at the same time ground him - even if all around him seemed to continue to change, whether he wanted or not. Perhaps he would never have admitted it, but seeing Merlin there in his rooms, just as he had been for ten years, gave him a sense of peace that could hardly be emulated. And even though, in truth, everything had changed - the discovery of Merlin's magic and of their shared destiny and the fact that now Merlin was no longer his servant - Arthur knew that if there was one thing that would always stay the same was the constant presence of Merlin by his side.
What he had done to deserve that affection and devotion, Arthur still couldn’t understand it.
Yet Merlin was always there, next to him. And there he would remain, even if after tomorrow he wouldn’t be officially his servant anymore.
Right?
"Do I have something on my face?"
Arthur was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts. When he focused on Merlin's face he saw him staring back at him with an intrigued but relaxed expression.
"Hmm?" was his distracted reply.
A snort of laughter. "You have been staring at me for at least five minutes. Do I have something on my face or the last blow in the head has finally made you go full-on stupid?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Shut up, you idiot. I was just… thinking."
"You? Thinking? Well, now I am worried."
Arthur did not feel particularly guilty when the pillow landed squarely on Merlin’s face, who welcomed it with a laugh. There was a brief, relaxed silence, broken a few moment later by Merlin’s calm voice which reached him in a low comfortable tone, the one he used when he wanted to invite Arthur to open up.
“Come on, tell me.”
Arthur sighed. He took his time, stretching his back as if shake off some tension. Then he rested his head to one of the bedposts, his gaze drifting towards the window. "Do you ever feel like... like everything is constantly changing around you, and all you want is to- you know, just… stop, only for a moment? I mean, I know that some changes are good. Important,” he added quickly as if afraid of being misunderstood. "But sometimes, don't you feel the need to... freeze everything?"
Arthur swallowed with difficulty. His words seemed to linger in the air for a thoughtful moment, during which Arthur snapped a quick look at Merlin, who inexplicably was smiling.
"Are you having second thoughts about tomorrow?" Merlin asked raising his eyebrows in a sarcastic arc. "Because there is still in time to change your mind, you know."
Arthur snorted. "No, of course no," he replied with conviction. "That place is your by right and it is about time for you to claim it after all you did for Camelot."
He watched with quiet amusement as Merlin blushed and looked away. It was incredible how someone so brazen and irreverent could still get flustered by a single compliment.
Merlin cleared his throat, the redness still visible on his pronounced cheekbones. "So what are you worried about? That I won’t longer be around you like before?"
Arthur knew Merlin was just teasing him but he found himself unable to snap back – not when the truth had just been laid bare in front of him. And not when he had realized that yes, that was exactly what had been tormented him. He meant to reply with a joke but at the very last he hesitated, incapable to find the right words. He simply twisted his hands, his gaze low.
"Arthur?", Merlin's surprise voice hit him like a punch in the stomach and Arthur found himself sighing, his pride stinging all too sharply.
“Forget it, I don't even know what I'm saying. Must have been the wine from the dinner...," he got out of bed quickly, looking everywhere but at his former servant even though he could feel his gaze on him, sharp and piercing, as if seeing straight through him.
“Arthur,” Merlin called out again, in a slightly louder voice. Arthur ignored him, walking over to the desk and beginning to shuffle all the parchments, with no apparent logical sense. Whenever he found himself in an awkward conversation Arthur always felt the uncontrollable urge to keep his hands busy, and this usually resulted in the inevitable consequence of destroying what little precarious order of his chambers still possessed.
“Arthur.”
Merlin's firm voice came closer this time. Arthur sighed, dropping his papers and resting his fists on the desk. Then he looked up, finding Merlin standing in front of him, his face etched with an expression so open and intense that Arthur felt unable to hold his gaze. For a moment, for a very brief, non-existent moment, his eyes wandered over the rest of Merlin's face. On his lips, on his cheekbones and on that raven black hair, now grown so long it curled slightly at the ends, covering part of his ridiculous ears.
His breath caught in his chest and, as often happened in those moments, his thoughts became a senseless tangle impossible to untangle. He did not know what name to give to that feeling. He had never felt it and he did not know whether it came from that destiny greater than themselves, or from that sense of suggestion of being told they were two sides of the same coin. Yet Arthur knew that what bound him to Merlin went far beyond legend. It was a sincere bond, one they had both nurtured for a long time. Merlin was his closest friend, with whom he had shared more than with anyone else. So of course brain and body reacted to his presence. It was completely normal. Absolutely normal.
“Do you really think anything will change between us after tomorrow?”
Arthur snapped back to the present, his skin prickling by the embarrassment of having his feelings so exposed.
“No, of course not,” he dismissed him so awkwardly that he knew for certain he had convinced no one. Firstly him.
He heard Merlin taking a big breathe. Then a pause. And then…
“You really are a gigantic prat.”
“Merlin!” Arthur groaned, rolling his eyes in exasperation. At least on then he was sure Merlin would never change.
"Well, thanks to you as of tomorrow I will be a lord. I'll have even more right to insult you," Merlin teased him, grinning with that angelic smile of his that promised only trouble.
“I'm still the King, you idiot, you can't talk to me like that even if you were my Consort.”
It had slipped out of his mouth without even thinking about it and Arthur realised belatedly how utterly embarrassing it sounded. He dared a glance towards Merlin but the other did not seem particularly fazed by his choice of words. He kept smiling, in that breathless way of his that Arthur found himself ever so slightly taken aback, and could do nothing more than reply with an amused smile of his own. A few moments later, Arthur cleared his voice, and went back to busying his hands with the parchments scattered on his desk.
“If nothing else, I'll get my share of fun tomorrow watching you trip over the ladies' feet.”
The groan Merlin let out made Arthur burst into a hearty laughter and earned a him a thoroughly unimpressed glare. Which, of course, only amused him more.
“The greatest sorcerer who ever walked the earth and then you can't do two dance steps without sending anyone to Gaius,” Arthur snickered, regaining all the confidence he had previously lost.
“Well,” Merlin retorted sarcastically, “My talents lie elsewhere, what can I tell you.”
“If you mean your talent for talking nonsense, yes, you’re absolutely right.”
“Prat.”
“Idiot.”
“Arse.”
“Clotpole.”
“Still my word.”
“And it still suits you perfectly.”
Merlin snorted a laugh and barely turned his head to glance out the window. A comfortable silence fell between them, and for a few moments, neither of them broke it. Arthur returned his gaze to the desk and slowly began to tidy up the chaos he’d created earlier.
“Arthur?”
“Hmm?” he muttered, without looking up from his work.
“I am going to make a real fool of myself in front of everyone tomorrow.”
“No more than usual.”
“I’m serious.” And for once, he actually sounded it. So much so that Arthur turned toward him, puzzled, just to check his expression.
He looked genuinely despondent.
“What are you babbling about now?” he asked, confused.
“It’s true that I can’t dance, and I know how important these... appearances are for nobles. And it won’t just be tomorrow, will it? I’ll have to dance at all the stupid feasts and banquets, in front of other lords and kings, and I’ll look like an idiot and embarrass Camelot and you and-”
“Merlin, Merlin, slow down,” Arthur interrupted, stepping closer and stopping the frantic pacing Merlin had begun. He rested his hands on his shoulders. “You’re spiralling for no reason. I was only joking. Tomorrow will be fine. Besides, they’re all used to seeing your lack of grace in action. If anything, they’d be surprised otherwise…”
“It’s not funny, Arthur! Do you realize how badly this could reflect on you? On your decision to appoint me Court Sorcerer? To lift the ban on magic? To-”
“Merlin, for the love of God, breathe!” Arthur cut in impatiently, giving him a light shake. “Unless you plan to sabotage Camelot’s diplomatic relations by magically assaulting the ankles of lords and ladies, I doubt there’s anything to worry about.”
A brief silence fell before Merlin sighed, defeated. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
“I am taking it very seriously,” Arthur retorted, though the other didn’t look convinced. “I’m taking it so seriously,” he continued, raising his voice slightly, as he always did when declaring something important, “that I’ll make sure to avoid any dancing incidents tomorrow and at every future gathering.”
And, without much ceremony, he extended a hand toward him.
Merlin stared at him.
Then at his hand.
And then back at him.
“What are you-no, Arthur, you don’t-”
“Come on. No one’s better than me at this. I’ve been forced to take dance lessons since I could crawl. And honestly,” he added with a glance over his shoulder, “I don’t see anyone else lining up.”
Merlin continued to gape at him like a fish out of water. “B-but we don’t even have music and-and...”
“Merlin, these are the moments I seriously regret naming you Court Sorcerer,” Arthur deadpanned, glaring.
“Wha-but... oh”, the other exclaimed, in the tone of someone who has just understood something very difficult. “Right. Magic.”
Arthur smiled, satisfied. “There you are.”
“Stop teasing me. It’s not nice,” Merlin muttered, sulking. But the pout faded as soon as he caught Arthur’s amused expression, the one that clearly said ‘look who’s talking.’
“Alright, alright,” Merlin murmured with a sigh, half amused, half resigned. “Let’s do it.” He stepped forward and, after a moment’s hesitation, placed his hand in Arthur’s open palm.
If Merlin noticed Arthur’s slight flinch, he didn’t let it show. He still approached awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to do or where to place his hands. But the look on Arthur’s face made him freeze mid-motion, suddenly uncertain.
“Have you changed your mind? Because there’s no need-”
“No, no,” Arthur cut in, his voice tight, clasping Merlin’s hand and raising it to the right height. “Put your other hand on my hip. Waist level.”
Merlin obeyed, hesitantly, and in that moment Arthur stopped thinking.
He had felt something the moment Merlin had taken his hand. A warm thrill that shot up his arm, through his chest. And lower. Very lower. And now they were standing there, close, their faces inches apart. Merlin’s other hand was resting on his hip, and the uncertainty in his eyes twisted something in Arthur’s gut.
“Alright, almighty sorcerer,” he murmured, voice slightly hoarse. “Do your magic.”
Merlin snorted in amusement, but his face lit up, finally seeming at ease. He even managed a quick wink at Arthur before his eyes turned golden.
For a brief moment, Arthur looked completely lost in that vision. But he didn’t have time to truly contemplate it before he was distracted by a melody that began to drift through his chambers. He looked up, but nothing had seemed to change. And yet, the music was there.
It was unbelievable. Absurd. And absolutely beautiful.
“You’re ready?” Merlin whispered.
Arthur looked down, meeting Merlin’s eyes. For several moments he didn’t move. Then he barely nodded, his fingers tightening around Merlin’s.
“And one, two, three, four...”
How Merlin had ended up dancing with Arthur in his chambers, he truly had no idea.
Yet there they were, with an extremely patient Arthur – more patient than Merlin had never seen him - guiding him and offering him gentle tips on how to move with the rhythm of the ballad. Although Merlin had landed on Arthur’s feet several times and had nearly throwing them off balance at least three occasions, Arthur hadn’t once scolded him or teased him.
He seemed relaxed, Merlin realised, catching the soft, encouraging smile on Arthur’s face. It was strange to see him like that, especially since he had become king and his duties had multiplied. Yet now he looked unguarded, carefree.
And he was even more handsome than usual.
“Keep focusing,” Arthur admonished him in an amused murmur. Merlin startled, realising he had gotten a little too lost in thought and had tripped over his own feet again.
“Err, yes, sorry,” he muttered hastily, trying to get his balance back.
Arthur chuckled. He moved, barely pulling back as he shifted a step to the right, their hands still clasped. Merlin followed him, trying to remember the sequence Arthur had taught him and then they moved closer, following the rhythm of the dance. Three steps to the left, a turn, a touch of hands, another turn.
“Keep going, you're doing well!” Arthur encouraged as the movements became faster and faster to follow the lock of the music. They were both laughing now and Merlin was no longer paying much attention to his clumsiness but only to how much fun he was having, and to how easy it was to be with Arthur like that.
Two more rounds, one step back and one step forward, their hands clasped to each other. The ballad reached its last two chords and with one last step Merlin pulled Arthur to him and bowed, just as tradition dictated.
They both burst into giggle as the music around them faded away.
“You did well,” Arthur complimented with an amused smile.
“Come on, I stepped on your toes at least six times!” protested Merlin, though he was smiling too.
“Well, I expected at the very least a spectacular fall and a few broken bones. I call that a victory.”
Merlin laughed heartily, giving Arthur a light, playful shove. Their hands were still intertwined and neither of them seemed inclined to let go. And Merlin was perfectly fine with that. If it were up to him, he would have stayed like that forever.
He was so absorbed is his thoughts he had not noticed the music changing. It had taken on a slow, almost melancholic rhythm. It carried a hint of sadness... but it was warm. Welcoming.
It felt like home.
It felt like Arthur.
“You're a good teacher, I'll give you that,” Merlin noted in a hushed whisper. “Had this been a practice you would have yelled at me and insulted me at least a dozen times.”
Arthur grimaced. "Your life depends on it. It's obvious I demand more, don't you think? Here, at most, you can kick Lady Vivian, and I wouldn't be too sorry about that either."
Merlin shrugged, huffing out a soft laugh.
They had begun to sway in place, following the rhythm of the music without realising it. They had moved closer and now both had one hand resting on the other's hip, their faces close together and the other hand clasped at the level of their shoulders.
"Everything will be fine tomorrow, Merlin. You'll see."
He said it in such a tone so full of affection that Merlin's heart somersaulted. He was so hopelessly infatuated with Arthur that just a few words from him were enough for Merlin to no longer understand anything. He met Arthur’s eyes and he knew that he had definitively capitulated.
He loved him. He loved him so much that he could not even contemplate the idea of not being able to spend the rest of his life close to him as they were now.
He let out a long breath and then, tossing his pride aside, he rested his forehead on Arthur’s shoulder and he stayed there, eyes closed and his face hidden in the crook of Arthur’s neck.
And when he felt Arthur rest his chin on his head he trembled, his heart beating wildly.
I don't want this moment to end.
I need just one more minute.
Just give me one more minute, please.
“Um, Merlin?”
Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. That was it. Now Arthur would ask him what the hell he was doing and pull away. He stiffened, bracing himself for rejection, but Arthur did not move him. Merlin only felt the pressure on his head shift slightly and realised Arthur was looking around.
“What is happening?”
It was both the uncertainty and the caution in Arthur’s voice that made Merlin reluctantly break away from that entanglement and follow Arthur's gaze. He was looking out of the window and Merlin at first did not understand what had unsettled him so deeply. It was only when he noticed the wings of a small bird hovering in midair beyond the glass that Merlin realised, with horror, that his magic had worked on its own.
He hastily glanced around and what he saw only confirmed his fears: the dust in the air hung perfectly still, the flowers on the windowsill that had just been swaying in the breeze coming in through the window were now motionless. And even the sounds seemed to have suddenly vanished. And with them, also the music he himself had conjured.
“Merlin?”
At the sound of his name Merlin bowed his head, defeated.
“I stopped time,” he confessed in a whisper barely audible.
He felt Arthur's gaze on him and it took all his pride and willpower to raise his head and meet his eyes. Eyes that, contrary to his expectation, were not looking at him with fear or caution, but with such wonder that if Merlin was not already totally crazy about him he would have fallen in love all over again.
“You... stopped time?”
Merlin only nodded, slowly.
"I didn't do it on purpose. I... I j-just wanted this moment to last longer and my magic must have … acted? Like, on its own?"
He saw Arthur's eyes widen, and the silence that followed that sentence was one of the loudest Merlin had experienced in his life. He didn't know what divinity was guiding him at that moment but Merlin was sure that if he didn't speak now, he probably wouldn't for the rest of his days.
“I do too, you know,” he said in a huff.
The hand Arthur still held in his own shifted slightly, in a barely noticeable gasp.
“What?”
Merlin swallowed, looking away from the other's eyes and anchoring his own to the floor.
"When you were talking earlier about the changes and.... everything else...," he moistened his lips, uncertain. "I do too sometimes feel the need to.... stop. Everything."
Another deep silence fell, and this time it was so heavy that Merlin felt the shame rising in waves. Before Arthur could push him away he tried to step back, wriggling out of his grasp, but the other did not let him.
Instead he pulled him even closer and when Merlin dared to glance at his direction he saw his blue eyes looking at him with such an intensity that it almost pierced him through and through.
“You stopped time,” Arthur repeated in a whisper so faint that Merlin wasn't sure he had heard it. “You stop time… because you wanted that moment to last longer?’
Could one die of embarrassment? Because Merlin was definitely close to it, and his lip marred by a nervous bite agreed.
"I'm being mawkish, I know. I... forget it, Arthur, I don't know what got into me and-”
“Don't you dare."
Merlin hushed, surprised. And it was when he felt Arthur's forehead press against his that he realised there was probably nothing left for his heart and brain now. They were gone. Lost forever.
“I think we've already established that changes are good, haven't we?”
Arthur practically whispered that words onto his lips, and when their eyes met - and Merlin read there that tentative plea for confirmation, for permission - he understood no more and gave up.
He erased the final distance between them and when their lips finally met, it felt as if the whole world had shifted back into balance. Merlin needed that contact like he needed air, and the moment the kiss deepened, he slid his hand from Arthur's waist and tangle it into his hair, holding him close.
They could have stayed like that forever, Merlin thought. Forever, and it still wouldn’t have been enough. It was only the need to breathe that drove them apart after a long time, but neither dared to pull away from the other. They remained in silence, savouring that moment, and neither of them paid any attention to the fact that the little bird outside the windows was no longer motionless, or that the lilies on the windowsill had resumed swinging.
One of Arthur's hands went to rest on Merlin’s cheek, his thumb with the ring slowly caressing it, and Merlin surrendered to that contact, barely turning his face to leave a kiss on his palm.
“Save a dance for me tomorrow?,” Arthur asked him, using again that uncertain tone that made Merlin’s heart melt.
Merlin smiled, letting his eyes linger on Arthur’s face, drinking in every detail.
“I will save them all for you.”
And then he kissed him again.
Fin.