Chapter Text
Chapter 4
The druids were going about their daily occupations when they caught sight of a tall, muscular man in a green cloak. Helmar was back from the Crystal Cave. He took a moment to greet his comrades and pour himself some ale before beginning the story of what he had learned. Some of the druids were relieved, while others were surprised and uncertain about how this new prophecy would unfold. It could be a dangerous path that awaited Emrys and the king, which meant potential danger for all of them.
The revelation was not the only topic of conversation. News had also reached them of Camelot’s new law on magic. With ears all across the realm, the message had travelled quickly. They all felt their chains fall away. They no longer had to hide. They could walk freely without fear of being burned. Gratitude toward the king spread through the camp, along with pride in Emrys and the strengthening of his destiny. Hope grew stronger, though caution still lingered beneath the celebration. After so many years of being hunted, they could not let their forts collapse or grow careless.
As the camp fire died, some of the druids already sleeping from too much drinking, the camp began to settle for the night. Helmar announced to his closest confidants his departure for Camelot at dawn. A part of him felt nervous at the thought of meeting the great warlock. He wondered what he might look like.
Only one druid remained awake. He waited for some time, making sure the others were fully asleep before quietly slipping away, covering his tracks with magic. Daegan, that was his name, needed to speak with his leader in the northern plains. They finally could have the upper hand in learning how to lead Camelot and its allies towards ruin.
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On one side of the wooden door of the King’s chamber, Merlin was nervously pacing while chewing on his lip. It was probably the first time he had felt this nervous about the idea of waking up the king. He had faced monsters, and yet going back to his routine with the king scared him even more.
Get a grip, it’s only Arthur, he never made you that nervous in the past. He thought.
On the other side of the door, inside the chamber, Arthur was already awake in his bed. He barely slept, and yes, he guessed the footsteps beyond his door belonged to Merlin.
Maybe their dynamic had changed a bit after all. Like something deeply buried was no longer so impossible to ignore. Even in silence, the air and the energy was heavy and pulled them in a different mood.
The warlock took a deep breath and entered the room. Instantly the blonde’s eyes shut, faking a deep sleep.
“Uhm, rise and shine my lord!”
Arthur slowly opened his eyes and yawned like he was just waking up.
“I don’t smell any breakfast entering this room.”
“Well, I wasn't sure if you wanted any. You usually skip it when you train with the knights that early.”
“No training this morning,” Arthur said, pushing himself upright. “I moved it.”
Annoyed, the warlock crossed his arms.
“Well, thanks for telling me. I’ll go fetch your food, then.”
Before he could pass the door, Arthur threw the covers aside and got out of bed.
“I literally told you I wanted to talk to you over breakfast.”
Merlin shot him a look. “I thought you were joking.”
Arthur rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers lightly.
“Can’t you just like…magically make it appear?”
Laughing a bit, the raven-boy turned around.
“That’s not how it works. I can’t conjure food like that, I’m not even sure it would be edible.”
“Then tell me, how does it work?”
“Can I at least go fetch your breakfast, sire?”
The king was suddenly dangerously close to Merlin, a challenge gleaming in his eyes.
“Ok,” he whispered, very close to his servant’s ear, which made the skinnier boy shiver down his spine, almost forgetting where he was. Then Arthur took a step back, trying not to grin. “Can you teleport to the kitchen and then back in here?”
“Arthur…”
Arthur lifted his hands in mock surrender, eyes glinting with provocation.
“You. Have actually five minutes.”
Merlin stared at him, flabbergasted, for a heartbeat, before bolting to the kitchens.
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When Arthur finally had his breakfast in front of him, he invited Merlin to sit beside him. For a fleeting second, he considered sharing it with him. But for now control felt even more tempting. He wanted to feel in charge.
“Are you sure you want to know everything?”
“Do you think I said what I said yesterday for no reason, and that I would push a knight’s training just for the fun of it?”
“Yes?”
He scoffed and took a bite of his breakfast.
“Idiot. Just tell me, I want to hear what you have to say.”
“And you won’t burn me to death?”
“No Merlin, I won’t, trust me.”
Merlin explained his first steps as a warlock, how natural it was for him. He talked about his mother, and Balinor. Sometimes, his voice broke, not only because of the loss, but because of the freedom of finally telling everything to the man he adored. But he quickly regained his composure. He wanted no pity.
He shared all the times he used magic, even that one time while playing dice. Arthur asked a lot of questions. So, even if that felt as weird as it was a relief, Merlin took his time to share what he understood of magic, its limits, and why some people become corrupted by such power.. He also shared experiences of how he witnessed it being used for good, which he wanted Arthur to know. Finally, he explained the prophecy in detail, leaving nothing out; sharing everything he could remember with his king.
At the end of their three-hour conversation, both of their heads were hammering. Arthur was standing by the window, again, hoping fresh air would give him a clue on how to answer.
“So… basically, you are the most powerful sorcerer to ever live and you control dragons. You have another name, Emrys. And, your existence, your power, is because of what I am supposed to achieve.” You were made for me. That thought made his darker side quietly purr with satisfaction. But at the same time, he wondered if he really was the king from the prophecy. What if he is not...mine? Am I worthy of that kind of devotion? Am I really that great a king?
“Yes. Whatever you go through, I do too.*.”
“That… is a lot to live up to Merlin.*”
“I was not happy about it in the beginning. But as I came to know you, I deeply understood why it was my destiny to be by your side. You were not just a prophecy to complete, but someone I respected and cared deeply about. Someone I came to like and respect. Not because of what the dragon told me, but because of what I witnessed. What Kilgharrah told me does not matter anymore, I would stay by your side either way.”
Seeing the eyes of Merlin, full of worship, he could have stopped there, but he still wanted more.
“Is that true?”
“I would hurt with you* every step of the road you choose to take, and die trying to protect you.”
The king’s hands tightened against the stone of the window ledge, a faint smile painting his face. Still, he hated the idea of Merlin dying for him, or dying at all.
“But” Merlin continued “that doesn’t mean I won’t question you before obeying, or follow you blindly without saying my point of view.”
“I wouldn’t expect less. I think that is one of the reasons I kept you by my side for so many years.”
“One of them?”
Arthur stepped back from the window and slowly moved towards his manservant who was still anxiously sitting on the wooden chair. While looking in his uncertain eyes, Arthur’s fingertips brushed Merlin’s jaw.
“Yes, one of them,” he said faintly.
Both of them were mesmerized, frozen in time. Arthur’s fingers found their way at the nape of Merlin’s neck. The warlock's eyes almost closed, forgetting who he was, that Arthur was married, and that he had no place to surrender to his desire. And yet, he felt himself melt.
“Look at me,” he said as he lifted Merlin’s chin.
He hesitantly opened his eyes, knowing they were golden. Then, fire collided with a melting Arctic Ocean. Merlin parted his lips, like he was awaiting something. Then a loud knock shattered the moment, they could almost hear a porcelain cup falling on the ground.
“Sire? Are you alright?” They heard Percival’s voice.
It took a second before Arthur pulled his hand away from Merlin, who was still not able to look away or move.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Well, we were wondering if we understood the time for the training.”
Almost laughing, Merlin whispered;
“My lord, did you just forget the training you already pushed to later.”
Waving a finger to silence him he replied:
“Tell the knights I will be there in 20 minutes and that I apologize for the wait.”
“Sure my lord.”
They heard his steps leave the door, so Merlin slowly stood up from the chair, leaving his face so close to Arthur’s he almost forgot to breathe.
“Well, should I put on your armor?”
It took everything in Arthur’s restraint to not lean a few inches to savagely kiss the one in front of him. He instead took a step back and cleared his throat.
“It is your duty as my servant.”
They would lie if they said that this task was anything but tense. Especially when Merlin finished by strapping the armor, breath touching Arthur’s neck like an invitation. The king had to call upon his restraint to keep his hands from pushing down the servant’s head to kneel in front of him, and finally feel heat around his desire.
Both of them left the chamber biting the inside of their cheeks. Arthur was going to enjoy training far more than he should.