Reel_Merlin fic: The Prince's Speech Part 2/4
The Prince's Speech Part 2
Masterpost, part 1
The next afternoon Merlin had decided that he wouldn't ask, or talk about, the possibility of war. That wasn't the sort of thing that would help Arthur. He was supposed to helping instil confidence in his patient. So Merlin was entirely professional. That was until he asked Arthur to lie down on the floor and roll around.
“You want me to w...what?” Arthur asked, looking completely shocked.
“It'll help strengthen your diaphragm.”
“I'm the Prince. I don't... roll around on the floor,” Arthur said, looking at the shabby carpet.
Sensing Arthur's reluctance, Merlin himself went down onto the floor. “It's fine, Arthur,” Merlin said, lying down. The floor was hard but not that uncomfortable. “If you stretch out like this,” he demonstrated by stretching his arms out above his head. “And then you just roll. Like this.” Merlin rolled first away from where Arthur was standing above him and then back toward him.
“See?” Merlin asked, as he got up, checking to see he hadn't pulled any muscles.
“And how is... that supposed to... help?” Arthur didn't seem convinced.
“Look,” Merlin said, touching Arthur and pressing down where his diaphragm was. “Stretching helps build the muscles around here.” He jerked his hand away before it lingered there too long.
“And the rolling?”
“All helps,” Merlin said. “I know it's not,” he paused. “dignified but...”
Arthur snorted.
“You'll have to trust me.”
It was quite a sight to see the Crown Prince of Albion get down on the floor. “If my clothes get dirty from your... carpet,” Arthur said, “I'll take the... cleaning fee out of your next payment.”
“Don't you have servants to clean your clothes?” Merlin asked. He watched Arthur stretch out gingerly. It seemed as if he was looking for dirt.
“That's... not the point... Merlin,” Arthur replied, squirming as he lay on the floor.
Merlin carefully bent down and put his hands on Arthur's side. “Good, now keep stretching and roll,” Merlin said, giving Arthur a firm push.
As if by surprise or simply because of Merlin’s encouragement Arthur rolled across the floor, stopping before he reached the edge of the carpet and avoiding bashing into any of the furniture.
“I don't feel better,” Arthur said, now lying still.
Coming to stand by Arthur Merlin leaned down. “We can't just do it once,” he said. “Let's keep trying.” He gave Arthur another push and the prince rolled across the floor again.
It was clear that Arthur felt awkward but it was the first day of treatment and Merlin was sure he would loosen up. Which was why he decided to move the treatment onto the next exercise. He had planned several and decided or see how Arthur reacted to each one before making his treatment plan more formal with set exercises.
“For this next one I want you to clasp your hands together like this,” Merlin said, demonstrating by pressing his palms together and linking his fingers.
Arthur gave his hands a brief look before he silently copied Merlin's actions. Without asking permission Merlin started positioning Arthur's hands relative to his body. He felt a little guilty because he did think perhaps his need to rush Arthur wasn’t born entirely out of professionalism. Still, he hoped it was helping.
“Now what?” Arthur asked, looking very self conscious.
Standing opposite Merlin demonstrated. “Loosen your jaw and do this,” he said. Feeling a little bit self conscious himself Merlin felt his mouth go loose, said 'ah' and kept up the word as he moved his clasped hands toward him and then away. After a moment he stopped.
Arthur watched intently. “You... want... me to do that?”
“Why don't we do it together?” Merlin suggested to ease his patient's discomfort.
“A...very good idea,” Arthur replied.
“On three?” Merlin offered.
He noticed Arthur nodded and took in a deep breath.
“One. Two. Three.”
On cue Arthur and Merlin in unison began to 'ahhh'. If Merlin didn’t know better he'd almost say they were harmonising. After about thirty seconds he stopped and Arthur, following Merlin's lead also stopped, breathing a sigh of relief.
“You're doing great, Arthur,” Merlin said. “Now let's try loosening up that throat a bit more.”
So engrossed did Merlin become in the exercises he was doing with Arthur that he nearly overran the session time limit. It was only a quick glance at the clock as Arthur was 'ahhing' that made him realise the time was up. He felt almost disappointed. He cherished the time with all his patients but Arthur's time, though no more important as a patient, had a personal resonance with Merlin.
“I'll see... you tomorrow,” Arthur said.
Merlin ignored the little thrill he got. He would be professional, he would. “Yes. If you get time to practice what we've done today before you come back, please do.”
“An... order, Merlin?” Arthur asked.
“A suggestion. As your therapist,” Merlin replied holding out his hand. “See you tomorrow.”
Arthur shook Merlin’s hand firmly. The handshake probably went on for longer than what might be deemed appropriate but Merlin was waiting for Arthur to pull away. When he finally slackened his grip Merlin wasn't sure but Arthur looked a little unsure. He offered a smile and Arthur returned it.
He watched Arthur leave his rooms and went to update Arthur's notes. He'd made excellent progress, Merlin was very pleased. He was less pleased with the feelings he was starting to develop. He'd never thought about a patient like this before. The next few weeks were going to test his professionalism to the limit, he could tell.
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When he got back to the palace, Arthur was in a good mood. For some reason Merlin's company made him feel less of a failure as a prince and more of normal person who happened to have a, hopefully, curable problem. That and the fact he had genuinely enjoyed his session with Merlin, embarrassing as it had been. It was something new, different and Arthur had found himself quite captivated by Merlin, who clearly knew what he was doing.
Yet those pleasant thoughts proved fleeting as Morgana met him as he left the car to go inside.
“Arthur!”
“Morgana w...what's w...wrong?” Arthur asked, as his sister ran toward him, her dress billowing out and her make up running a little.
“It's Uther, he's been taken ill.”
“F...f...ather's ill?”
Morgana clutched Arthur's arm and nodded. “You remember he was quiet at breakfast and didn't eat anything?”
“He didn't... come down... for lunch.” Arthur had thought his father was just working hard as usual and opting to take his lunch in his private rooms.
“When they went to take him up his lunch he was slumped in his chair. He's not well, Arthur, the doctors aren't sure what's wrong. They think it's his heart.”
“B..b..but he's...”
Morgana spoke softly. “Not the man he used to be, Arthur.”
Shaking his head, Arthur struggled to comprehend it. His father had always been the strong one, the leader everyone had looked up to. As a child he had lived in equal fear and awe of his father. He had seen his father ill but mildly with colds, flu, illness that was easily recoverable from. The idea his father had taken with an illness he couldn't conquer was a terrifying thought.
“There's more, Arthur,” Morgana said.
“More?” Arthur could hardly believe it. His father was sick, what more could there be?
“Your Uncle Tristan's coming. I don't know who told him but he knows Uther is ill.”
There was only one person Arthur feared other than his father and that was his Uncle Tristan. Tristan Du Bois was of Royal blood himself tracing back through his maternal line. A seasoned soldier, veteran, and the most feared debater in the council.
“W...w...what c...could he... want?” Arthur asked.
“I don't know,” Morgana said. “But we'll find out. He's to arrive here in a couple of days. He's cut his tour of Tregor short.”
Arthur felt a knot in his stomach. The arrival of his Uncle Tristan filled him with a sense of dread. He had never come out of compassion or love for his family. He had stopped sending Arthur birthday greetings long before he came of age.
Tristan's arrival was not the only issue. Uther had a heavy schedule of public engagements in the next few weeks and months. Whilst some could be put off others would not be so easily delayed. As Crown Prince it would fall upon Arthur to go in his father's place and give speeches.
“Arthur?” Morgana rubbed his arm.
“I...need to see..f...f...father,” Arthur said, striding inside.
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When he reached his father's bedside the sight shocked him. His father looked pale, weak, old, his eyes were closed and Arthur couldn't see him breathing. Gaius, his father's most trusted physician, who had served the family personally for decades, was at the king's bedside, checking Uther's pulse.
“Is... he?” Arthur asked.
Gaius turned to face Arthur. “He's just resting,” Gaius said, quietly. “That's what he needs; rest.”
“W...w...will he be... all right?”
Gaius shook his head sadly. “It's his heart, Arthur, it will never fully recover but hopefully with rest he should get over this, for a time anyway.”
That didn’t sound too reassuring to Arthur. “C...can I... sit.. with him?” he asked.
“Of course,” Gaius replied, moving to pack up his things into his bag, his bottles of remedies and his stethoscope. “I'm finished here.”
Arthur pulled up a chair and sat down, looking into the worn face of his father. His throat felt tight at the sight and he found it hard to breathe.
“It's good to see you, Arthur,” Gaius said, before leaving the room.
Arthur could feel hot tears form in his eyes but he wasn't going to cry, not in front of his father, and he blinked them back. He reached out and touched his father's hand. The skin felt cold under his touch.
“I...need you... to... get... b...better,” Arthur said, quietly.
He sat there with his father until Morgana came to escort him to dinner. He ate his food slowly, the gravy congealed on his plate.
“How was your session today?” she asked, when the servants were out of earshot.
Arthur had to smile at the memory, even as he picked at cold potatoes. “Good,” he said. “Merlin... is good.”
“Why do I sense there's a but?” Morgana asked.
“I... don't know... if it... will be... enough,” Arthur said. Not when he was faced with an ill father and more speeches to make than he ever thought he would have to during his time as Prince.
Morgana smiled at him sadly. “It will. You have to trust in yourself that it will be.”
Arthur nodded. Time would tell he supposed. He just wished he had more of it.
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The next afternoon Merlin wondered if he would see Arthur. He'd read the newspapers that morning, newspapers that alluded to the king being taken ill.
“Lord Tristan Du Bois's on his way,” Gwaine had said over breakfast. “Not a good sign when that bastard is sneaking around.”
“What's wrong with him?” Merlin had asked, eating his toast.
“They say Lord Tristan has designs on the crown,” Lancelot had replied. “He does have a claim through his mother's side”
“But what about Prince Arthur?” Merlin had asked.
“The Prince no-one seems to see and when they do he can't speak?” Gwaine had asked. “Do you think they'd go for him as king?”
“I would,” Merlin had answered, quietly.
So it was that Merlin sat in his room watching the clock and waiting, and hoping, that Arthur would appear. The clock was about to hit half past the hour when he heard a familiar knocking. He tried not to leap up to open the door. Instead he walked over in what he hoped was a professional manner.
“Mr Wartson!” Merlin said, perhaps a little too loudly and happily.
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Merlin!”
Stepping back Merlin allowed his patient to enter the room. He tried to gauge Arthur's mood, seeing how he moved and held himself, but he didn't seem any different to how he was when he'd entered Merlin's rooms the previous day.
“I wasn't sure I'd see you today,” Merlin said. “I heard about your father.”
Arthur smiled, but only a little. “He's much... better,” Arthur said. “Even... took breakfast this... morning.”
“Oh that's good,” Merlin said, smiling. He was relieved on Arthur's behalf. “And your uncle?”
Arthur’s face darkened at the mention of his uncle. “He's at... home,” Arthur said. “Arrived this... morning.”
Not wanting to push Arthur any more Merlin decided to take his mind off things by introducing a few new exercises. “All right,” he said. “Let’s start with you lying on the floor.”
“Why is it... you always...want me on the... floor?”
“It's good for a prince to learn humility,” Merlin replied, indicating what he thought was a relatively clean spot for Arthur to lie on.
Despite giving Merlin what might pass as a fairly annoyed look Arthur went and lay down on the floor. He shifted about a bit, as if getting comfortable.
“Ready?” Merlin asked.
“Not really,” Arthur said.
Before he had a chance to ask anything else Merlin went and sat down on his patient's chest. It was probably the shock that stopped Arthur trying to leap to his feet. “Merlin?” he wheezed.
“I'm not that heavy, don't complain,” Merlin said.
“You are when you are... on my chest,” Arthur said, sounding strained.
“This is to help your breathing,” Merlin told him.
“I can't... breathe,” Arthur replied, sounding a little stubborn, he tried to shift under Merlin but couldn't.
“Yes you can. Now deep breath in,” Merlin instructed. He could feel Arthur manage to take quite a deep breath despite his discomfort. He felt himself raise up a little, as if Arthur was some small inflatable seat. The thought amused Merlin and he tried not to laugh. “Now breathe out,” Merlin said.
Arthur breathed out and Merlin felt himself go lower.
“Is that it?” Arthur asked.
Merlin looked down at Arthur. It was a privileged view he had. He doubted anyone else had looked into the eyes of the Prince whilst sitting on his chest before. “No,” Merlin said. “This time I want you to hold your breath before you exhale.”
Arthur nodded and took a deep breath in, his face showing plain determination. Merlin smiled at him and they began again.
Eventually after a good five minutes of that exercise Merlin got up and helped Arthur to his feet. His hand might have lingered in Arthur's but he was only making sure his patient was all right.
“How was that?” Merlin asked.
“Exhausting,” Arthur replied. “How can I... practice that?”
“I suppose you can’t ask Lady Morgana?”
Arthur gave a frown. “You’ve met my sister.”
Merlin had also heard the stories and the Lady Morgana was not someone he would want sitting on his chest. “Perhaps we should keep this between the two of us then.”
“I think... that would be wise,” Arthur said, although he was smiling.
The rest of the exercises were simpler. Merlin still touched Arthur, felt his breathing, helping him position himself best. With every touch Merlin could feel his professional control slip a little. It was ridiculous, he had touched many patients, many male patients, before but somehow this was different. Then again Arthur was no ordinary patient.
With every exercise Arthur seemed to relax a little. It was good for him to lose a few of those inhibitions, it could only help. Merlin took a secret delight in seeing Arthur smile when he managed to hold an 'ahhhh' for a good thirty seconds. Arthur deserved to take pride in the little victories he was making, the slight gains and tiny improvements.
At the end of the session Merlin was extremely pleased with Arthur's progress. He was a willing patient and that alone would stand him in good stead.
“Now don't forget to practice what you can,” Merlin said. “Except maybe the sitting one.”
“You are the only person... that will be sitting on me,” Arthur said.
That gave Merlin a warm feeling as they shook hands and made their goodbyes.
“Could I have another... of your business cards?” Arthur asked. “I... misplaced your number.”
Going over to his desk Merlin pulled out one of his business cards and gave it to Arthur who took it eagerly. He read it carefully before placing it in his pocket.
“You did really well today, Arthur,” Merlin said.
Arthur lowered his head.
“I mean it. I don't flatter my patients. Not even princes.”
“That's true,” Arthur said.
“I hope your father gets better soon.”
Looking up Arthur smiled weakly. “Me too.”
Waving his patient off, Merlin hoped that the King would improve. All Arthur needed was a little more time, he could feel it. Already Arthur was showing improvement and was probably going to go on Merlin's star pupil list. All he needed was a little time.
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As soon as he got back to the palace Arthur found he had been summoned to a meeting in his father's study. As he went inside he realised his father was absent. However, his Uncle Tristan was there along with Doctor Gaius and the Chief Minister; Geoffrey of Monmouth. They all looked rather solemn and Arthur's heart leapt into his throat even as it began to tighten.
“My... f...f...father?” he asked, forcing the word out as he tried to control his breathing.
“Your father is recovering,” Gaius said. “But as I told you he needs rest.”
“And... w...w.hy are you... here?” he asked his uncle, trying not to sound intimidated. His uncle, dressed in a black suit, was the very picture of intimidating and Arthur had witnessed many a political rival of his uncle’s lose their argument before it had even begun.
“I'm here out of concern for my brother- in-law of course,” Tristan said. “It is a matter that concerns the whole kingdom.”
“He's getting... better,” Arthur said. His uncle rarely showed concern outside of his own ambition.
“Yes, but we have a problem,” Tristan said, smiling like a cat about to pounce. “Don't we Geoffrey?”
Geoffrey nodded. “Indeed. Your father was due to launch a new warship in a few weeks time in Enged.”
“The... HMSA Wyvern,” Arthur said. He'd served in the navy and still kept in touch with his colleagues, one of whom had been picked to be the first officer on the new ship.
“Yes. We cannot delay the launch with Mercia preparing to invade the Western Isles. They would see it as a sign of weakness that we weren't prepared,” Geoffrey said, solemnly.
“And we can't let that happen of course,” Tristan said, smoothly. “You understand that, don’t you, Arthur?”
Arthur ignored his uncle's tone. “Of course.” Arthur knew full well that war with Mercia was a strong possibility. The Wyvern was their most advanced warship and a key part of any military action in the future.
“I told you he would understand,” Tristan said to Geoffrey, as if he were an adult speaking about a child. Arthur bristled.
“I do,” Arthur said. He kept his responses short and deliberate, not letting his stammer trip him up. He was nervous enough as it was.
“Good. We have arranged for you to launch the ship,” Geoffrey said. “In your father's place. Lord Du Bois suggested it would be a decisive move by us.”
Looking at his uncle Arthur was sure that his motives were not related to Albion's security. Tristan seemed confident, as if it was he who had been chosen.
“You will do it, won’t you, Arthur?” Tristan asked.
“I... will always do my... duty,” Arthur said, firmly, carefully breathing as Merlin had taught him. “When?”
“The launch is on the twenty third of this month,” Geoffrey said. “I've been assured that the date cannot be brought further forward without comprising the build completion and to delay it would be unwise.”
“That means you have nearly three weeks to prepare,” Tristan said, smiling again. “I'm sure it won't be an issue.”
“It won't,” Arthur said. He was not going to be humiliated. He was not going to give his uncle the satisfaction.
“Excellent,” Geoffrey said. “We're going to be broadcasting the launch throughout the Empire in order to show Mercia we are not intimidated.”
“A good idea, don't you think, Arthur?” Tristan asked.
“Yes,” Arthur replied, his heart pounding. “It is.”
After the plans had been finalised, Arthur went to his rooms and immediately took the business card out of his pocket. He picked up the telephone called the operator.
“What number please?” she asked.
“Emrys357, please,” Arthur replied.
Just at that moment Morgana entered his rooms, he had forgotten to lock the door. As asked for the operator to connect him he motioned at her to keep quiet and lock the door. He heard the lock click and Morgana stood far enough away so as not to distract him.
The telephone was answered at the other end. “Hello, Merlin Emerson, speech therapist.”
“Merlin,” Arthur said. “I need your... help.”
“Arthur? What's wrong?” Merlin sounded concerned.
“I need to... make a speech. In... three weeks... I...”
“It's all right, Arthur, breathe, we can do this. You can do this. I'll make our sessions longer and I'll start working out some techniques to help you when you're reading a speech out.”
“Thank you, Merlin.”
“You don't need to thank me, Arthur. I'm happy to help.”
“Thank you anyway,” Arthur said. Just the sound of Merlin's voice helped him relax a little. He had faith in Merlin’s therapies and he knew he wouldn't be facing his speeches alone.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Merlin said.
“Tomorrow,” Arthur replied. He put the phone down and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I had heard what Uncle Tristan's great plan is,” Morgana said, coming over to the desk. “How could he do that to you?
“It's okay, Morgana,” Arthur said. “Merlin will... help me.”
Morgana smiled. “You like him, don’t you?”
Arthur nodded. “Very much.”
He wouldn't admit it but Arthur felt he could easily fall in love with his therapist. Still, he would have to worry about that later. For now he had a speech to prepare for.
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There were several ways Merlin could prepare his patients to make speeches. Usually it helped if they had the speech ready. That way they could work off the exact speech and build up confidence. Unfortunately, Arthur's speech would not be ready for another week and half at the earliest. Apparently it had to go through committees and various drafts before it had final approval and Arthur could bring a copy to his therapy sessions.
This meant that Merlin had to improvise a little. He had several texts that he liked to use for his patients to practise speeches with. Several poems, sections of plays, and prose from novels. One of his favourite ones for speech was the poem 'I wandered lonely as a cloud', a classic with a nice rhythm to it.
The trouble was Arthur was having problems with the first line.
“I w...w...wandered,” Arthur paused. “lonely as a c...cloud.” He took a breath and shook his head. “I can't... do this.”
“You can,” Merlin reassured him, squeezing his shoulder. “Maybe if we changed the wandered to drifted. Here,” he said, holding out his hands. “Let me.”
Arthur handed over the poetry book and, with a pencil, Merlin began to scribble a few things onto the paper. He decided to put in the pauses that Arthur would need and altered a few words to try and make the sounds easier for Arthur to form. He put little marks on too in order to show where Arthur could skip over a word or into another.
“Isn't that defacing a... great poet’s... prose?” Arthur asked.
“Not when it's my book,” Merlin replied, placing the volume back into Arthur's hands. “Now I've put the pauses in, so when you get to one just take a second, take a breath and carry on. Some of the words you can skip onto.”
“I'm supposed to be able to... read your scribble?” Arthur asked.
“Try it, Arthur.”
Arthur took a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to focus on the book. Then to Merlin's relief he began to speak.
“I drifted lonely,” pause, “as a cloud.”
Merlin nodded as Arthur briefly paused.
“That floats,” pause, “on high, o'er vales and hills.”
The more Arthur read the more he seemed to get into his rhythm. There was the odd mistake when a pause went on too long, or Arthur paused in the wrong place, but overall it was a good first effort. If Arthur could apply the same techniques to the actual speech he would be doing well.
“You’ll be able to do this,” Merlin said.
“In front of Albion's... greatest dignitaries?” Arthur asked.
“Don't think about them. Think about you. You're going to say this speech to the people who will serve on the ship not some lords who’ve turned up for the buffet.”
For a moment Merlin wondered if he had stepped over the line but then Arthur's hearty laughter rang out and he joined in.
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The next couple of weeks were spent practising the technique of giving speeches. Merlin was pleased with Arthur's progress, but when he came with the actual speech it seemed they were back at square one, as Arthur began to stumble over his words again.
The problem was the speech had not been written with Arthur in mind. It had been written by aides to the Royal family and government ministers. Very little of it was Arthur's own words and the speech did not play to Arthur’s strengths but merely highlighted his weakness.
“Ladies and gentlemen...It is my pleasure...to w...welcome you to the launch..of the good ship HMSA W..wyvern. The K..king is sadly unable to attend but I c...come bearing his good w...wishes and thanks to the c...rew and all those who have made this...p..possible...” Arthur threw the paper on the floor. “I can't...I can't say it, Merlin,” he said, with a heavy sigh.
“You can,” Merlin said, picking the paper, smoothing it out a little. “With practice and a few changes.” He handed it back to Arthur.
“Merlin, my speech has to be... approved by the Royal ministers.”
“You are the Prince, Arthur,” Merlin said. “A prince should have the ultimate decision on his speeches. We won't change the essence of the speech, just a few words.”
Arthur looked up. “Such as?”
“Instead of 'the king' say 'my father' and instead of 'good wishes' say 'best wishes'. You can bounce off the 'best' into wishes more easily than 'good',” Merlin suggested. “I'll work out the pauses you need and we can go from there, all right?”
Arthur nodded. “Thank you, Merlin.”
“You can thank me after your government advisers don't arrest me for treason,” Merlin said, only half joking. He'd heard the zeal of some of the royal council.
“They wouldn’t,” Arthur paused. “Because it was my idea.”
Merlin smiled. “You have some very good ideas,” he said.
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A couple of days later the changes had been approved. It had taken some debate but Arthur had stood his ground, enlisting Gaius's help and support to persuade Geoffrey. Eventually Geoffrey had agreed the changes added a much needed personal touch. The changes had been approved remarkably quickly really.
“My uncle wasn't... happy though,” Arthur said, as he held a copy of the speech with Merlin's annotations. He could make out Merlin's various scribbles now and they comforted him, familiar marks that helped him like marks an actor had upon a stage for his performance.
“Why not?” Merlin asked, frowning.
“He thought I was... undermining the advice of my... ministers,” Arthur replied.
“I didn't think your uncle liked democracy that much.”
“I don't think he does,” Arthur said, quietly.
From what Merlin had heard, second-hand of course, he thought Arthur was right. Lord Du Bois seemed rather more interested in his own gain.
“Does your father like him?” Merlin asked.
Arthur shrugged. “I'm not sure my f...father likes anybody. Except Morgana.”
Merlin placed a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder. “You're going to make him proud when you read this speech out,” Merlin said. “And your father is an idiot for not showing he likes you.”
“Risking... treason again, Merlin?” Arthur asked. “He is my f...father.”
“I'm not that keen on being beheaded,” Merlin replied. “And yes, he's your father, but even kings should show their children they love them.”
Arthur's eyes said it all as sadness showed plainly through the façade Arthur tried to keep up most of the time, a façade Merlin was gradually getting Arthur to drop in his company. He thought perhaps no-one saw Arthur as vulnerable as he did. It was another reason why he had fallen for Arthur.
He loved him. Even if it was too dangerous to admit. He coughed and realised he had been staring at Arthur, his hand resting on his shoulder. He removed his hand and smiled. “Now take a deep breath and start reading, count a rhythm in your head just like I told you.”
Arthur nodded and turned his attention back to the speech.
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A few days later and Arthur was on his last session before he had to deliver the speech. He was more nervous than usual, the way he was standing was stiff and formal, and Merlin had his work cut out. If Arthur was stumbling in front of Merlin who knew what he was going to be like speaking out in front of the entire nation, the entire empire.
“Just imagine it like a symphony,” Merlin said. “Keep to your rhythm and breathe.”
Arthur sighed and began again. “Ladies and g...gentlemen. It is my honour... t...to be h...here... today... to launch our new ship... It's no... good, Merlin.
“You can pause, Arthur, you don't have to be perfect,” Merlin said, putting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and rubbing lightly.
“The nation w...w...will be listening,” Arthur ground out the words.
Merlin could tell Arthur's stress wasn't helping his speech. “Then don't say it to the nation. Say it to me,” Merlin said. “Just me.”
“I don't... know if I c...can,” Arthur said.
Without really thinking about what the gesture meant, Merlin ran a finger down Arthur's jaw and turned him to face him. Arthur didn't flinch at the intimate gesture. “You're going to be brilliant,” Merlin said.
He found himself leaning forward and then his lips brushed ever so gently against Arthur's. In the moment it took him to process the sensation he realised he'd just stepped over a very important boundary. He pulled back but Arthur put an arm around his waist, preventing him from moving back further.
“I want you there tomorrow,” he said quietly. He was looking at Merlin in a way he hadn't before, at least Merlin hadn't noticed.
“I don't think I'd be allowed,” Merlin pointed out.
“I'm the Prince,” Arthur replied. “We'll find a way.”
“If you think it would help,” Merlin said, moving closer to Arthur and once again stepping over all the boundaries of a professional.
“It will.”
“I'll be there,” Merlin whispered.
The gap between them closed again and Merlin gave into it. After Arthur had made his speech he could think about the consequences but until then he couldn't let go of what was between them. It had never been harder to say goodbye to Arthur at the end of a session, and Merlin knew the next time he saw him Arthur would be delivering his first speech since he'd begun therapy.
It would be a test for them both.
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On the morning of the speech, Arthur woke up feeling as if his stomach was in knots and his head was spinning. He'd faced many things in his time as Crown Prince but never had he faced such an important task as the one he had in front of him. This was a speech that many were marking out as a gauge as to how Arthur would cope with Kingship. He knew all eyes would be watching him.
Yet there was only person he wanted, needed, to watch him; Merlin.
He had spoken with Morgana, who had spoken with Gaius, who had arranged for Merlin to have a place in the stands opposite Arthur. It was unlikely Arthur would be able to see Merlin, he would be but one face among many, but he would know that he was there. The only thing preventing him from giving into his nerves was the knowledge that Merlin would be there and more than that that Merlin believed in him.
Maybe that was why Arthur had fallen for him. It was a cliché to fall in love with one's therapist, usually it was confined to the novels Morgana and her maid read, but Arthur had, completely and utterly. He needed Merlin, yes, but even if he had had perfect speech Arthur was sure he would have found himself loving Merlin had he ever had the opportunity to meet him.
After the speech was over perhaps they discuss their new situation. Men were not forbidden to have relationships with other men, there was nothing in law nor the Old Religion to prohibit it. There was the issue of Arthur being the Crown Prince, but he already knew titles were things that interested Merlin, it wouldn't stand in their way.
There was a knock at the door and Morgana entered as Arthur finished buttoning his jacket.
“Are you ready?” she asked. “They're all waiting for you.”
Arthur nodded, smoothing the fabric of his clothes, brushing off lint that wasn’t there. “I'm ready.”
Morgana kissed his cheek. “You'll be fine today,” she said. “Don’t worry about any of them.” She gestured outside.
“I'm not saying this... for them,” Arthur said.
“I know,” Morgana replied. “Good luck.”
The drive to the shipyard in Enged took almost an hour, and during that hour Arthur kept glancing at the briefcase that held his speech. He had almost memorised it by now, but he knew it would do no good to brood on it. Instead he concentrated on his breathing and calmed himself gently.
When they pulled up outside the shipyard Arthur could already see crowds beginning to gather. Public events were always well attended in Albion and this, it seemed, was no exception. Percival drove him around to the VIP entrance at the back of the stands. Hopefully that would avoid the public and the always too nosy reporters.
As Arthur exited the car Percival smiled. “Good luck, Sir,” he said.
“Thank you,” Arthur replied, clutching his briefcase tightly. He made his way inside to where Gaius and Geoffrey were waiting for him. Arthur was relieved his uncle wasn't there.
“We're almost ready for you,” Geoffrey said. “We've done a test on the microphone. You'll be live in five minutes.
Arthur nodded. His mouth felt dry. He put the briefcase onto the table and took out his speech. He didn't look at it and tried to keep it hidden hoping no-one would notice the notes Merlin had made for him.
“Ready, Sir?” Gaius asked.
“Yes,” he replied, glancing up at the stairs. “Shall w...we?”
There was a moment of concern on Geoffrey's face before he led the way up the stairs and into the stand. Arthur followed him, with Gaius bringing up the rear. As he took each step Arthur mentally counted them and timed his breathing to match.
Finally, they reached the stand where the dreaded microphone lay in wait like a lion waiting to pounce upon its prey. Arthur tried not to show his nerves as he stepped up to it and laid his speech out on the lectern in front of him. He didn't shuffle his papers but carefully smoothed a hand over them.
Glancing up he could see the crowds gathered all around and the ship in the dock before him. The bottle of mead dangled from the rope, held in place by a piece of ribbon. Once the words were said he would send the bottle sailing toward its target, but first he had to say his speech.
Looking at the stand opposite for a moment he panicked but then he saw Merlin. He was so small and almost unrecognisable among the vast crowd, but Arthur would know him anywhere. He focussed in on where Merlin was as Geoffrey frantically began to gesture to the light in front of Arthur. The red light blinked a couple of times and then came on.
Arthur took a deep breath and filtered out everything around him. He imagined the crowd melting away to leave a single solitary figure opposite. In his mind he was a conductor and the words his symphony. With that final thought he looked down and began to read out his speech.
“Ladies and gentlemen. It is my honour,” breathe, “to be here,” pause, “today,” another breath, “to launch our new ship,” pause, “the HMSA W..wyvern,” The 'W' tripped Arthur up but the end of the sentence afforded a longer pause. “ My father,” a breath, “is sadly unable,” a breath, “to attend,” a pause “but I come bearing his best wishes,” a quick pause, “and thanks to all those who have made this,” a leap onto the next word, “possible. This ship,” a pause to deal with the set of 's' sounds, “sets sail,” a breath, “with one of the finest,” another pause onto the c, “crews,” a quick breath, “in Albion,” a pause, “and I am sure,” a breath, “you will all join me,” pause, “in offering our respect to them,” a quick breath, “and passing on,” a pause, “our hope of a...” a breathe before the 's', “successful first voyage. I do not believe,” a pause, “that luck will be needed,” a breath, “although I am sure a little will not be,” a pause for the tricky bit, “unwelcome.” Another pause, more natural. “So I name this ship,” a breath, “the HMSA W...Wyvern,” a pause to get over the 'w', “may the gods bless her and all,” a pause before the 'w' and 's' sounds, “who sail in her.”
The red light was still on as Arthur untied the ribbon and took hold of the bottle of mead. He held it up and ready to be released and picked out Merlin. He wondered if it was his imagination, or if Merlin was smiling. He let go of the bottle, and it happily smashed into the ship releasing the liquid inside across the surface of the hull in a cascade.
The ship now began to slide from the docks into the sea. The crowd were cheering, the noise was deafening but as far as Arthur was concerned it could have all been silence. He had done it, he had made it through his first speech. There had been the odd slip up but compared to his last speech it had been near perfect.
The feeling of euphoria stayed with Arthur as he left the stand and was congratulated by Gaius and Geoffrey.
“Very well done, Sir,” Geoffrey said. “Your father would be proud.”
“Well done, Arthur,” Gaius said, smiling.
“Thank you, “Arthur replied. His knees felt a little wobbly.
He had to stay for awhile to mingle with the top navy brass. Luckily he had known them for years and was relaxed enough not to worry too much about his speech patterns when speaking to them. They were all familiar with Arthur's issues and his stammer, though they kept a polite silence about it.
“That really was an excellent speech,” Captain Leon said. “You father will be proud I'm sure.”
“Thank you,” Arthur said. He didn't yet know what his father's reaction was, but he hoped it was positive.
*****************************************************************************
When he returned to the palace he felt confident, right up until the moment his uncle appeared.
“Can I have a word, Arthur?” he asked. “In private.”
They went into Arthur's father's study. It felt wrong when Tristan went behind his father's desk. It was not his place, he was not Arthur's father, and he should not be taking the position of the king. Tristan touched a pen lying on the desk as if it belonged to him.
“I am sure my f...father will be back doing his p...paperwork in here... very soon,” Arthur said.
Tristan smiled, but it wasn't particularly friendly. “I'm sure he will. In the meantime I would like to offer my congratulations. That was quite the speech, Arthur.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
Tristan played with pen again. “I was surprised to hear you speak so,” he paused, “clearly.”
“I've been... practising,” Arthur said, feeling his nerves begin to affect him as his throat tightened.
“Yes, and so you should,” Tristan said. “After all your father might need you to step into some other aspects of his role. Make some more speeches on his behalf.”
“I will always... do my duty,” Arthur said, firmly.
“Yes, I'm sure you shall.” Tristan didn’t look too happy at the prospect.
“Well, now we're... finished here,” Arthur said, indicating it was he who would end the conversation. “I promised Morgana I would... speak with her.”
For a moment Tristan looked taken aback. “Yes, of course.”
Arthur left the study quietly but inside he was seething. His uncle had no right to act the way he did. Yet Arthur could not find a way to challenge him. His confidence seemed to evaporate in front of his older relatives, the ones who had seen him struggle with his speech since he'd been a child. His uncle made him feel like he was six years old again.
Morgana also seemed worried when he told her what had happened in the privacy of her rooms.
“I don't like it, Arthur. Tristan is up to something. He's been having meetings with some of the more important members of the court. He's barely visited Uther at all.”
“What do you think...he's planning?”
“I don’t know, but be careful, Arthur,” Morgana clasped his hand.
“How is f...father?” Arthur asked.
“Stable,” Morgana replied.
That hadn't been the positive comment Arthur had hoped for. He had hoped his father was getting better. His face must have shown as much.
“He'll be all right,” Morgana added. “It just takes time.”
Arthur nodded, though he had a feeling that Morgana wasn't telling him something. There was worry etched in her face and she was paler than usual.
“Your speech was excellent,” she said. “Even Uther liked it.”
“He did?” The approval of his father would mean true success.
Morgana nodded. “He said you were much improved even if he thought some of your pauses were too long.”
“I should see him,” Arthur said, standing up.
“Later,” Morgana replied. “He's resting.
Seeing her concern Arthur sat back down. “What aren't you... telling me, Morgana?”
His sister looked down. “Uther may never fully recover, Arthur,” she said. “The doctors want him to go to the country to rest and recuperate but he refuses to go. His heart is damaged, Arthur, and they can't cure him.”
“H...h...how long?” Arthur asked once the implication had sunk in, he leaned back in the chair in shock.
“Maybe a year if he stays here. He could have a few more if he moved out of the city.”
Arthur felt the world fall out from under him. He had always known his father was going to die, it was a fact of life but this...? “So s...s...soon?”
“He's mortal, Arthur, he always has been.”
“I'm not... ready,” Arthur said.
“You're more ready than you know,” Morgana whispered.
*****************************************************************************
It had been a rough night for Merlin. He had watched Arthur give his speech and he had never been more proud but afterwards, seeing all the people cheering, Merlin remembered the kiss and the line he had sworn not to cross, but had. How he had ever thought he and Arthur would work romantically he had no idea, he put it down to naivete.
Arthur belonged to Albion, to his people, to his duty. Merlin was selfish enough to want Arthur to belong to him too. However, he was not selfish enough to push himself before anything else. Much as it hurt, and much as his heart ached, he made the choice to end things with Arthur before they had begun.
Albion deserved her prince and Merlin would not take him from her.
The next morning he went into his rooms feeling distracted. A few of his patients asked if he was unwell. Merlin certainly felt sick but he had to stick it out. He apologised to his patients but all of them offered sympathy.
“You'll... be... okay,” Freya had told him. “You need.. .to sleep more.”
Merlin was pretty sure he wouldn't be all right or okay. He almost wished the clock would stop. However, where once the minutes would tick slowly by to the time of Arthur’s regular appointment now they sped up. Merlin knew he wasn't ready when he heard footsteps outside the door.
As Arthur entered, Merlin couldn't even meet his eyes. It was best to just get it over with. When Arthur moved to touch Merlin, hug him perhaps, Merlin held his hand up to stop him.
“ Arthur, no, we can't do this,” he said.
“Why not?”
Ignoring the deeply wounded look in Arthur's eyes Merlin carried on. “I'm your therapist. I can't get involved with my patients and you're not just any patient! You're the Prince!”
“That didn't... matter before. What changed... your mind?”
“Seeing you yesterday,” Merlin said, quietly. He owed it to Arthur to be honest. “I saw how much the people love you and rely on you. I can’t put that in jeopardy.”
“It's not... your choice to make... Merlin!” Arthur said, raising his voice.
“We don't have a choice, Arthur. I can't be your therapist.”
“What?” Arthur looked shocked.
“I can't risk going over the line with you,” Merlin said, tears pricked at his eyes. “I know I have already and I shouldn't have. I'll find you another therapist.”
Arthur began to pace near the doorway, his shoes hitting the wooden floorboards with some force. “I don't... w...want another... therapist. I w...want you. I want... you... Merlin.”
“We all want things we can't have,” Merlin said. He wanted a man who didn't belong to him.
“You w...want to give... up?”
Merlin looked Arthur in the eye and what he saw hurt his very core. “I can't...”
Arthur shook his head and put his hand on the door handle. “No, Merlin...you choose...not to...try. I didn’t think....you would...give up...on anything. Good bye... Merlin.”
Arthur opened the door and as he left Merlin couldn’t even say goodbye. He told himself it was for the right reasons, that it was for Arthur's sake that he had said it. That was little comfort, however, when he was left in an empty room with the man he'd come to love walking out of his life. His heart hurt and his head ached.
He cancelled the rest of his appointments and went home.
*****************************************************************************
That evening Arthur didn't go down for dinner. He still felt sick. Merlin had rejected him. Worse, Merlin had rejected him because he was the prince. Arthur had thought his rank hadn't mattered to Merlin, that Merlin had seen who he really was, and maybe he had, but part of Merlin was still seeing the prince. The Crown Prince whose life had been built on duty to everyone but himself.
“Arthur, let me in,” Morgana called through the locked door. “Let me in or I'll get Gwen to fetch a locksmith.”
Sighing Arthur got up off the bed where he'd been sitting and went over to the door. He opened it to find Morgana looking worriedly at him. “Oh Arthur,” she said.
Arthur walked back into the room and sat down on his bed again, the soft sheets jarring against his emotions. “I don't... need sympathy.”
“What happened?” Morgana asked, sitting down beside him.
“I fell in love... with Merlin,” Arthur said. “Only he... he wanted to... he won’t see me. Be...cause I'm the... prince,” Arthur spat out the last word.
“Arthur, you never make it easy for yourself,” Morgana said, hugging him. “Merlin will come around, you'll see.”
“I can't... carry on,” Arthur said.
“No, you prove to Merlin you can do it. You show him the man you are. You show him what he's missing.”
“I... miss... him,”Arthur said. “Knowing I'm... not going to... see him... tomorrow.”
“I know,” Morgana said. “But you still have your duty.”
For the first time in his life Arthur felt a certain resentment toward his duty. Yet, even now, he knew he couldn't give it up. “I know,” he said. He just wished Merlin had seen that Arthur deserved more.
****************************************************************************
Part 3
Masterpost, part 1
The next afternoon Merlin had decided that he wouldn't ask, or talk about, the possibility of war. That wasn't the sort of thing that would help Arthur. He was supposed to helping instil confidence in his patient. So Merlin was entirely professional. That was until he asked Arthur to lie down on the floor and roll around.
“You want me to w...what?” Arthur asked, looking completely shocked.
“It'll help strengthen your diaphragm.”
“I'm the Prince. I don't... roll around on the floor,” Arthur said, looking at the shabby carpet.
Sensing Arthur's reluctance, Merlin himself went down onto the floor. “It's fine, Arthur,” Merlin said, lying down. The floor was hard but not that uncomfortable. “If you stretch out like this,” he demonstrated by stretching his arms out above his head. “And then you just roll. Like this.” Merlin rolled first away from where Arthur was standing above him and then back toward him.
“See?” Merlin asked, as he got up, checking to see he hadn't pulled any muscles.
“And how is... that supposed to... help?” Arthur didn't seem convinced.
“Look,” Merlin said, touching Arthur and pressing down where his diaphragm was. “Stretching helps build the muscles around here.” He jerked his hand away before it lingered there too long.
“And the rolling?”
“All helps,” Merlin said. “I know it's not,” he paused. “dignified but...”
Arthur snorted.
“You'll have to trust me.”
It was quite a sight to see the Crown Prince of Albion get down on the floor. “If my clothes get dirty from your... carpet,” Arthur said, “I'll take the... cleaning fee out of your next payment.”
“Don't you have servants to clean your clothes?” Merlin asked. He watched Arthur stretch out gingerly. It seemed as if he was looking for dirt.
“That's... not the point... Merlin,” Arthur replied, squirming as he lay on the floor.
Merlin carefully bent down and put his hands on Arthur's side. “Good, now keep stretching and roll,” Merlin said, giving Arthur a firm push.
As if by surprise or simply because of Merlin’s encouragement Arthur rolled across the floor, stopping before he reached the edge of the carpet and avoiding bashing into any of the furniture.
“I don't feel better,” Arthur said, now lying still.
Coming to stand by Arthur Merlin leaned down. “We can't just do it once,” he said. “Let's keep trying.” He gave Arthur another push and the prince rolled across the floor again.
It was clear that Arthur felt awkward but it was the first day of treatment and Merlin was sure he would loosen up. Which was why he decided to move the treatment onto the next exercise. He had planned several and decided or see how Arthur reacted to each one before making his treatment plan more formal with set exercises.
“For this next one I want you to clasp your hands together like this,” Merlin said, demonstrating by pressing his palms together and linking his fingers.
Arthur gave his hands a brief look before he silently copied Merlin's actions. Without asking permission Merlin started positioning Arthur's hands relative to his body. He felt a little guilty because he did think perhaps his need to rush Arthur wasn’t born entirely out of professionalism. Still, he hoped it was helping.
“Now what?” Arthur asked, looking very self conscious.
Standing opposite Merlin demonstrated. “Loosen your jaw and do this,” he said. Feeling a little bit self conscious himself Merlin felt his mouth go loose, said 'ah' and kept up the word as he moved his clasped hands toward him and then away. After a moment he stopped.
Arthur watched intently. “You... want... me to do that?”
“Why don't we do it together?” Merlin suggested to ease his patient's discomfort.
“A...very good idea,” Arthur replied.
“On three?” Merlin offered.
He noticed Arthur nodded and took in a deep breath.
“One. Two. Three.”
On cue Arthur and Merlin in unison began to 'ahhh'. If Merlin didn’t know better he'd almost say they were harmonising. After about thirty seconds he stopped and Arthur, following Merlin's lead also stopped, breathing a sigh of relief.
“You're doing great, Arthur,” Merlin said. “Now let's try loosening up that throat a bit more.”
So engrossed did Merlin become in the exercises he was doing with Arthur that he nearly overran the session time limit. It was only a quick glance at the clock as Arthur was 'ahhing' that made him realise the time was up. He felt almost disappointed. He cherished the time with all his patients but Arthur's time, though no more important as a patient, had a personal resonance with Merlin.
“I'll see... you tomorrow,” Arthur said.
Merlin ignored the little thrill he got. He would be professional, he would. “Yes. If you get time to practice what we've done today before you come back, please do.”
“An... order, Merlin?” Arthur asked.
“A suggestion. As your therapist,” Merlin replied holding out his hand. “See you tomorrow.”
Arthur shook Merlin’s hand firmly. The handshake probably went on for longer than what might be deemed appropriate but Merlin was waiting for Arthur to pull away. When he finally slackened his grip Merlin wasn't sure but Arthur looked a little unsure. He offered a smile and Arthur returned it.
He watched Arthur leave his rooms and went to update Arthur's notes. He'd made excellent progress, Merlin was very pleased. He was less pleased with the feelings he was starting to develop. He'd never thought about a patient like this before. The next few weeks were going to test his professionalism to the limit, he could tell.
****************************************************************************
When he got back to the palace, Arthur was in a good mood. For some reason Merlin's company made him feel less of a failure as a prince and more of normal person who happened to have a, hopefully, curable problem. That and the fact he had genuinely enjoyed his session with Merlin, embarrassing as it had been. It was something new, different and Arthur had found himself quite captivated by Merlin, who clearly knew what he was doing.
Yet those pleasant thoughts proved fleeting as Morgana met him as he left the car to go inside.
“Arthur!”
“Morgana w...what's w...wrong?” Arthur asked, as his sister ran toward him, her dress billowing out and her make up running a little.
“It's Uther, he's been taken ill.”
“F...f...ather's ill?”
Morgana clutched Arthur's arm and nodded. “You remember he was quiet at breakfast and didn't eat anything?”
“He didn't... come down... for lunch.” Arthur had thought his father was just working hard as usual and opting to take his lunch in his private rooms.
“When they went to take him up his lunch he was slumped in his chair. He's not well, Arthur, the doctors aren't sure what's wrong. They think it's his heart.”
“B..b..but he's...”
Morgana spoke softly. “Not the man he used to be, Arthur.”
Shaking his head, Arthur struggled to comprehend it. His father had always been the strong one, the leader everyone had looked up to. As a child he had lived in equal fear and awe of his father. He had seen his father ill but mildly with colds, flu, illness that was easily recoverable from. The idea his father had taken with an illness he couldn't conquer was a terrifying thought.
“There's more, Arthur,” Morgana said.
“More?” Arthur could hardly believe it. His father was sick, what more could there be?
“Your Uncle Tristan's coming. I don't know who told him but he knows Uther is ill.”
There was only one person Arthur feared other than his father and that was his Uncle Tristan. Tristan Du Bois was of Royal blood himself tracing back through his maternal line. A seasoned soldier, veteran, and the most feared debater in the council.
“W...w...what c...could he... want?” Arthur asked.
“I don't know,” Morgana said. “But we'll find out. He's to arrive here in a couple of days. He's cut his tour of Tregor short.”
Arthur felt a knot in his stomach. The arrival of his Uncle Tristan filled him with a sense of dread. He had never come out of compassion or love for his family. He had stopped sending Arthur birthday greetings long before he came of age.
Tristan's arrival was not the only issue. Uther had a heavy schedule of public engagements in the next few weeks and months. Whilst some could be put off others would not be so easily delayed. As Crown Prince it would fall upon Arthur to go in his father's place and give speeches.
“Arthur?” Morgana rubbed his arm.
“I...need to see..f...f...father,” Arthur said, striding inside.
*****************************************************************************
When he reached his father's bedside the sight shocked him. His father looked pale, weak, old, his eyes were closed and Arthur couldn't see him breathing. Gaius, his father's most trusted physician, who had served the family personally for decades, was at the king's bedside, checking Uther's pulse.
“Is... he?” Arthur asked.
Gaius turned to face Arthur. “He's just resting,” Gaius said, quietly. “That's what he needs; rest.”
“W...w...will he be... all right?”
Gaius shook his head sadly. “It's his heart, Arthur, it will never fully recover but hopefully with rest he should get over this, for a time anyway.”
That didn’t sound too reassuring to Arthur. “C...can I... sit.. with him?” he asked.
“Of course,” Gaius replied, moving to pack up his things into his bag, his bottles of remedies and his stethoscope. “I'm finished here.”
Arthur pulled up a chair and sat down, looking into the worn face of his father. His throat felt tight at the sight and he found it hard to breathe.
“It's good to see you, Arthur,” Gaius said, before leaving the room.
Arthur could feel hot tears form in his eyes but he wasn't going to cry, not in front of his father, and he blinked them back. He reached out and touched his father's hand. The skin felt cold under his touch.
“I...need you... to... get... b...better,” Arthur said, quietly.
He sat there with his father until Morgana came to escort him to dinner. He ate his food slowly, the gravy congealed on his plate.
“How was your session today?” she asked, when the servants were out of earshot.
Arthur had to smile at the memory, even as he picked at cold potatoes. “Good,” he said. “Merlin... is good.”
“Why do I sense there's a but?” Morgana asked.
“I... don't know... if it... will be... enough,” Arthur said. Not when he was faced with an ill father and more speeches to make than he ever thought he would have to during his time as Prince.
Morgana smiled at him sadly. “It will. You have to trust in yourself that it will be.”
Arthur nodded. Time would tell he supposed. He just wished he had more of it.
*****************************************************************************
The next afternoon Merlin wondered if he would see Arthur. He'd read the newspapers that morning, newspapers that alluded to the king being taken ill.
“Lord Tristan Du Bois's on his way,” Gwaine had said over breakfast. “Not a good sign when that bastard is sneaking around.”
“What's wrong with him?” Merlin had asked, eating his toast.
“They say Lord Tristan has designs on the crown,” Lancelot had replied. “He does have a claim through his mother's side”
“But what about Prince Arthur?” Merlin had asked.
“The Prince no-one seems to see and when they do he can't speak?” Gwaine had asked. “Do you think they'd go for him as king?”
“I would,” Merlin had answered, quietly.
So it was that Merlin sat in his room watching the clock and waiting, and hoping, that Arthur would appear. The clock was about to hit half past the hour when he heard a familiar knocking. He tried not to leap up to open the door. Instead he walked over in what he hoped was a professional manner.
“Mr Wartson!” Merlin said, perhaps a little too loudly and happily.
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Merlin!”
Stepping back Merlin allowed his patient to enter the room. He tried to gauge Arthur's mood, seeing how he moved and held himself, but he didn't seem any different to how he was when he'd entered Merlin's rooms the previous day.
“I wasn't sure I'd see you today,” Merlin said. “I heard about your father.”
Arthur smiled, but only a little. “He's much... better,” Arthur said. “Even... took breakfast this... morning.”
“Oh that's good,” Merlin said, smiling. He was relieved on Arthur's behalf. “And your uncle?”
Arthur’s face darkened at the mention of his uncle. “He's at... home,” Arthur said. “Arrived this... morning.”
Not wanting to push Arthur any more Merlin decided to take his mind off things by introducing a few new exercises. “All right,” he said. “Let’s start with you lying on the floor.”
“Why is it... you always...want me on the... floor?”
“It's good for a prince to learn humility,” Merlin replied, indicating what he thought was a relatively clean spot for Arthur to lie on.
Despite giving Merlin what might pass as a fairly annoyed look Arthur went and lay down on the floor. He shifted about a bit, as if getting comfortable.
“Ready?” Merlin asked.
“Not really,” Arthur said.
Before he had a chance to ask anything else Merlin went and sat down on his patient's chest. It was probably the shock that stopped Arthur trying to leap to his feet. “Merlin?” he wheezed.
“I'm not that heavy, don't complain,” Merlin said.
“You are when you are... on my chest,” Arthur said, sounding strained.
“This is to help your breathing,” Merlin told him.
“I can't... breathe,” Arthur replied, sounding a little stubborn, he tried to shift under Merlin but couldn't.
“Yes you can. Now deep breath in,” Merlin instructed. He could feel Arthur manage to take quite a deep breath despite his discomfort. He felt himself raise up a little, as if Arthur was some small inflatable seat. The thought amused Merlin and he tried not to laugh. “Now breathe out,” Merlin said.
Arthur breathed out and Merlin felt himself go lower.
“Is that it?” Arthur asked.
Merlin looked down at Arthur. It was a privileged view he had. He doubted anyone else had looked into the eyes of the Prince whilst sitting on his chest before. “No,” Merlin said. “This time I want you to hold your breath before you exhale.”
Arthur nodded and took a deep breath in, his face showing plain determination. Merlin smiled at him and they began again.
Eventually after a good five minutes of that exercise Merlin got up and helped Arthur to his feet. His hand might have lingered in Arthur's but he was only making sure his patient was all right.
“How was that?” Merlin asked.
“Exhausting,” Arthur replied. “How can I... practice that?”
“I suppose you can’t ask Lady Morgana?”
Arthur gave a frown. “You’ve met my sister.”
Merlin had also heard the stories and the Lady Morgana was not someone he would want sitting on his chest. “Perhaps we should keep this between the two of us then.”
“I think... that would be wise,” Arthur said, although he was smiling.
The rest of the exercises were simpler. Merlin still touched Arthur, felt his breathing, helping him position himself best. With every touch Merlin could feel his professional control slip a little. It was ridiculous, he had touched many patients, many male patients, before but somehow this was different. Then again Arthur was no ordinary patient.
With every exercise Arthur seemed to relax a little. It was good for him to lose a few of those inhibitions, it could only help. Merlin took a secret delight in seeing Arthur smile when he managed to hold an 'ahhhh' for a good thirty seconds. Arthur deserved to take pride in the little victories he was making, the slight gains and tiny improvements.
At the end of the session Merlin was extremely pleased with Arthur's progress. He was a willing patient and that alone would stand him in good stead.
“Now don't forget to practice what you can,” Merlin said. “Except maybe the sitting one.”
“You are the only person... that will be sitting on me,” Arthur said.
That gave Merlin a warm feeling as they shook hands and made their goodbyes.
“Could I have another... of your business cards?” Arthur asked. “I... misplaced your number.”
Going over to his desk Merlin pulled out one of his business cards and gave it to Arthur who took it eagerly. He read it carefully before placing it in his pocket.
“You did really well today, Arthur,” Merlin said.
Arthur lowered his head.
“I mean it. I don't flatter my patients. Not even princes.”
“That's true,” Arthur said.
“I hope your father gets better soon.”
Looking up Arthur smiled weakly. “Me too.”
Waving his patient off, Merlin hoped that the King would improve. All Arthur needed was a little more time, he could feel it. Already Arthur was showing improvement and was probably going to go on Merlin's star pupil list. All he needed was a little time.
******************************************************************************
As soon as he got back to the palace Arthur found he had been summoned to a meeting in his father's study. As he went inside he realised his father was absent. However, his Uncle Tristan was there along with Doctor Gaius and the Chief Minister; Geoffrey of Monmouth. They all looked rather solemn and Arthur's heart leapt into his throat even as it began to tighten.
“My... f...f...father?” he asked, forcing the word out as he tried to control his breathing.
“Your father is recovering,” Gaius said. “But as I told you he needs rest.”
“And... w...w.hy are you... here?” he asked his uncle, trying not to sound intimidated. His uncle, dressed in a black suit, was the very picture of intimidating and Arthur had witnessed many a political rival of his uncle’s lose their argument before it had even begun.
“I'm here out of concern for my brother- in-law of course,” Tristan said. “It is a matter that concerns the whole kingdom.”
“He's getting... better,” Arthur said. His uncle rarely showed concern outside of his own ambition.
“Yes, but we have a problem,” Tristan said, smiling like a cat about to pounce. “Don't we Geoffrey?”
Geoffrey nodded. “Indeed. Your father was due to launch a new warship in a few weeks time in Enged.”
“The... HMSA Wyvern,” Arthur said. He'd served in the navy and still kept in touch with his colleagues, one of whom had been picked to be the first officer on the new ship.
“Yes. We cannot delay the launch with Mercia preparing to invade the Western Isles. They would see it as a sign of weakness that we weren't prepared,” Geoffrey said, solemnly.
“And we can't let that happen of course,” Tristan said, smoothly. “You understand that, don’t you, Arthur?”
Arthur ignored his uncle's tone. “Of course.” Arthur knew full well that war with Mercia was a strong possibility. The Wyvern was their most advanced warship and a key part of any military action in the future.
“I told you he would understand,” Tristan said to Geoffrey, as if he were an adult speaking about a child. Arthur bristled.
“I do,” Arthur said. He kept his responses short and deliberate, not letting his stammer trip him up. He was nervous enough as it was.
“Good. We have arranged for you to launch the ship,” Geoffrey said. “In your father's place. Lord Du Bois suggested it would be a decisive move by us.”
Looking at his uncle Arthur was sure that his motives were not related to Albion's security. Tristan seemed confident, as if it was he who had been chosen.
“You will do it, won’t you, Arthur?” Tristan asked.
“I... will always do my... duty,” Arthur said, firmly, carefully breathing as Merlin had taught him. “When?”
“The launch is on the twenty third of this month,” Geoffrey said. “I've been assured that the date cannot be brought further forward without comprising the build completion and to delay it would be unwise.”
“That means you have nearly three weeks to prepare,” Tristan said, smiling again. “I'm sure it won't be an issue.”
“It won't,” Arthur said. He was not going to be humiliated. He was not going to give his uncle the satisfaction.
“Excellent,” Geoffrey said. “We're going to be broadcasting the launch throughout the Empire in order to show Mercia we are not intimidated.”
“A good idea, don't you think, Arthur?” Tristan asked.
“Yes,” Arthur replied, his heart pounding. “It is.”
After the plans had been finalised, Arthur went to his rooms and immediately took the business card out of his pocket. He picked up the telephone called the operator.
“What number please?” she asked.
“Emrys357, please,” Arthur replied.
Just at that moment Morgana entered his rooms, he had forgotten to lock the door. As asked for the operator to connect him he motioned at her to keep quiet and lock the door. He heard the lock click and Morgana stood far enough away so as not to distract him.
The telephone was answered at the other end. “Hello, Merlin Emerson, speech therapist.”
“Merlin,” Arthur said. “I need your... help.”
“Arthur? What's wrong?” Merlin sounded concerned.
“I need to... make a speech. In... three weeks... I...”
“It's all right, Arthur, breathe, we can do this. You can do this. I'll make our sessions longer and I'll start working out some techniques to help you when you're reading a speech out.”
“Thank you, Merlin.”
“You don't need to thank me, Arthur. I'm happy to help.”
“Thank you anyway,” Arthur said. Just the sound of Merlin's voice helped him relax a little. He had faith in Merlin’s therapies and he knew he wouldn't be facing his speeches alone.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Merlin said.
“Tomorrow,” Arthur replied. He put the phone down and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I had heard what Uncle Tristan's great plan is,” Morgana said, coming over to the desk. “How could he do that to you?
“It's okay, Morgana,” Arthur said. “Merlin will... help me.”
Morgana smiled. “You like him, don’t you?”
Arthur nodded. “Very much.”
He wouldn't admit it but Arthur felt he could easily fall in love with his therapist. Still, he would have to worry about that later. For now he had a speech to prepare for.
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There were several ways Merlin could prepare his patients to make speeches. Usually it helped if they had the speech ready. That way they could work off the exact speech and build up confidence. Unfortunately, Arthur's speech would not be ready for another week and half at the earliest. Apparently it had to go through committees and various drafts before it had final approval and Arthur could bring a copy to his therapy sessions.
This meant that Merlin had to improvise a little. He had several texts that he liked to use for his patients to practise speeches with. Several poems, sections of plays, and prose from novels. One of his favourite ones for speech was the poem 'I wandered lonely as a cloud', a classic with a nice rhythm to it.
The trouble was Arthur was having problems with the first line.
“I w...w...wandered,” Arthur paused. “lonely as a c...cloud.” He took a breath and shook his head. “I can't... do this.”
“You can,” Merlin reassured him, squeezing his shoulder. “Maybe if we changed the wandered to drifted. Here,” he said, holding out his hands. “Let me.”
Arthur handed over the poetry book and, with a pencil, Merlin began to scribble a few things onto the paper. He decided to put in the pauses that Arthur would need and altered a few words to try and make the sounds easier for Arthur to form. He put little marks on too in order to show where Arthur could skip over a word or into another.
“Isn't that defacing a... great poet’s... prose?” Arthur asked.
“Not when it's my book,” Merlin replied, placing the volume back into Arthur's hands. “Now I've put the pauses in, so when you get to one just take a second, take a breath and carry on. Some of the words you can skip onto.”
“I'm supposed to be able to... read your scribble?” Arthur asked.
“Try it, Arthur.”
Arthur took a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to focus on the book. Then to Merlin's relief he began to speak.
“I drifted lonely,” pause, “as a cloud.”
Merlin nodded as Arthur briefly paused.
“That floats,” pause, “on high, o'er vales and hills.”
The more Arthur read the more he seemed to get into his rhythm. There was the odd mistake when a pause went on too long, or Arthur paused in the wrong place, but overall it was a good first effort. If Arthur could apply the same techniques to the actual speech he would be doing well.
“You’ll be able to do this,” Merlin said.
“In front of Albion's... greatest dignitaries?” Arthur asked.
“Don't think about them. Think about you. You're going to say this speech to the people who will serve on the ship not some lords who’ve turned up for the buffet.”
For a moment Merlin wondered if he had stepped over the line but then Arthur's hearty laughter rang out and he joined in.
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The next couple of weeks were spent practising the technique of giving speeches. Merlin was pleased with Arthur's progress, but when he came with the actual speech it seemed they were back at square one, as Arthur began to stumble over his words again.
The problem was the speech had not been written with Arthur in mind. It had been written by aides to the Royal family and government ministers. Very little of it was Arthur's own words and the speech did not play to Arthur’s strengths but merely highlighted his weakness.
“Ladies and gentlemen...It is my pleasure...to w...welcome you to the launch..of the good ship HMSA W..wyvern. The K..king is sadly unable to attend but I c...come bearing his good w...wishes and thanks to the c...rew and all those who have made this...p..possible...” Arthur threw the paper on the floor. “I can't...I can't say it, Merlin,” he said, with a heavy sigh.
“You can,” Merlin said, picking the paper, smoothing it out a little. “With practice and a few changes.” He handed it back to Arthur.
“Merlin, my speech has to be... approved by the Royal ministers.”
“You are the Prince, Arthur,” Merlin said. “A prince should have the ultimate decision on his speeches. We won't change the essence of the speech, just a few words.”
Arthur looked up. “Such as?”
“Instead of 'the king' say 'my father' and instead of 'good wishes' say 'best wishes'. You can bounce off the 'best' into wishes more easily than 'good',” Merlin suggested. “I'll work out the pauses you need and we can go from there, all right?”
Arthur nodded. “Thank you, Merlin.”
“You can thank me after your government advisers don't arrest me for treason,” Merlin said, only half joking. He'd heard the zeal of some of the royal council.
“They wouldn’t,” Arthur paused. “Because it was my idea.”
Merlin smiled. “You have some very good ideas,” he said.
*****************************************************************************
A couple of days later the changes had been approved. It had taken some debate but Arthur had stood his ground, enlisting Gaius's help and support to persuade Geoffrey. Eventually Geoffrey had agreed the changes added a much needed personal touch. The changes had been approved remarkably quickly really.
“My uncle wasn't... happy though,” Arthur said, as he held a copy of the speech with Merlin's annotations. He could make out Merlin's various scribbles now and they comforted him, familiar marks that helped him like marks an actor had upon a stage for his performance.
“Why not?” Merlin asked, frowning.
“He thought I was... undermining the advice of my... ministers,” Arthur replied.
“I didn't think your uncle liked democracy that much.”
“I don't think he does,” Arthur said, quietly.
From what Merlin had heard, second-hand of course, he thought Arthur was right. Lord Du Bois seemed rather more interested in his own gain.
“Does your father like him?” Merlin asked.
Arthur shrugged. “I'm not sure my f...father likes anybody. Except Morgana.”
Merlin placed a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder. “You're going to make him proud when you read this speech out,” Merlin said. “And your father is an idiot for not showing he likes you.”
“Risking... treason again, Merlin?” Arthur asked. “He is my f...father.”
“I'm not that keen on being beheaded,” Merlin replied. “And yes, he's your father, but even kings should show their children they love them.”
Arthur's eyes said it all as sadness showed plainly through the façade Arthur tried to keep up most of the time, a façade Merlin was gradually getting Arthur to drop in his company. He thought perhaps no-one saw Arthur as vulnerable as he did. It was another reason why he had fallen for Arthur.
He loved him. Even if it was too dangerous to admit. He coughed and realised he had been staring at Arthur, his hand resting on his shoulder. He removed his hand and smiled. “Now take a deep breath and start reading, count a rhythm in your head just like I told you.”
Arthur nodded and turned his attention back to the speech.
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A few days later and Arthur was on his last session before he had to deliver the speech. He was more nervous than usual, the way he was standing was stiff and formal, and Merlin had his work cut out. If Arthur was stumbling in front of Merlin who knew what he was going to be like speaking out in front of the entire nation, the entire empire.
“Just imagine it like a symphony,” Merlin said. “Keep to your rhythm and breathe.”
Arthur sighed and began again. “Ladies and g...gentlemen. It is my honour... t...to be h...here... today... to launch our new ship... It's no... good, Merlin.
“You can pause, Arthur, you don't have to be perfect,” Merlin said, putting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and rubbing lightly.
“The nation w...w...will be listening,” Arthur ground out the words.
Merlin could tell Arthur's stress wasn't helping his speech. “Then don't say it to the nation. Say it to me,” Merlin said. “Just me.”
“I don't... know if I c...can,” Arthur said.
Without really thinking about what the gesture meant, Merlin ran a finger down Arthur's jaw and turned him to face him. Arthur didn't flinch at the intimate gesture. “You're going to be brilliant,” Merlin said.
He found himself leaning forward and then his lips brushed ever so gently against Arthur's. In the moment it took him to process the sensation he realised he'd just stepped over a very important boundary. He pulled back but Arthur put an arm around his waist, preventing him from moving back further.
“I want you there tomorrow,” he said quietly. He was looking at Merlin in a way he hadn't before, at least Merlin hadn't noticed.
“I don't think I'd be allowed,” Merlin pointed out.
“I'm the Prince,” Arthur replied. “We'll find a way.”
“If you think it would help,” Merlin said, moving closer to Arthur and once again stepping over all the boundaries of a professional.
“It will.”
“I'll be there,” Merlin whispered.
The gap between them closed again and Merlin gave into it. After Arthur had made his speech he could think about the consequences but until then he couldn't let go of what was between them. It had never been harder to say goodbye to Arthur at the end of a session, and Merlin knew the next time he saw him Arthur would be delivering his first speech since he'd begun therapy.
It would be a test for them both.
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On the morning of the speech, Arthur woke up feeling as if his stomach was in knots and his head was spinning. He'd faced many things in his time as Crown Prince but never had he faced such an important task as the one he had in front of him. This was a speech that many were marking out as a gauge as to how Arthur would cope with Kingship. He knew all eyes would be watching him.
Yet there was only person he wanted, needed, to watch him; Merlin.
He had spoken with Morgana, who had spoken with Gaius, who had arranged for Merlin to have a place in the stands opposite Arthur. It was unlikely Arthur would be able to see Merlin, he would be but one face among many, but he would know that he was there. The only thing preventing him from giving into his nerves was the knowledge that Merlin would be there and more than that that Merlin believed in him.
Maybe that was why Arthur had fallen for him. It was a cliché to fall in love with one's therapist, usually it was confined to the novels Morgana and her maid read, but Arthur had, completely and utterly. He needed Merlin, yes, but even if he had had perfect speech Arthur was sure he would have found himself loving Merlin had he ever had the opportunity to meet him.
After the speech was over perhaps they discuss their new situation. Men were not forbidden to have relationships with other men, there was nothing in law nor the Old Religion to prohibit it. There was the issue of Arthur being the Crown Prince, but he already knew titles were things that interested Merlin, it wouldn't stand in their way.
There was a knock at the door and Morgana entered as Arthur finished buttoning his jacket.
“Are you ready?” she asked. “They're all waiting for you.”
Arthur nodded, smoothing the fabric of his clothes, brushing off lint that wasn’t there. “I'm ready.”
Morgana kissed his cheek. “You'll be fine today,” she said. “Don’t worry about any of them.” She gestured outside.
“I'm not saying this... for them,” Arthur said.
“I know,” Morgana replied. “Good luck.”
The drive to the shipyard in Enged took almost an hour, and during that hour Arthur kept glancing at the briefcase that held his speech. He had almost memorised it by now, but he knew it would do no good to brood on it. Instead he concentrated on his breathing and calmed himself gently.
When they pulled up outside the shipyard Arthur could already see crowds beginning to gather. Public events were always well attended in Albion and this, it seemed, was no exception. Percival drove him around to the VIP entrance at the back of the stands. Hopefully that would avoid the public and the always too nosy reporters.
As Arthur exited the car Percival smiled. “Good luck, Sir,” he said.
“Thank you,” Arthur replied, clutching his briefcase tightly. He made his way inside to where Gaius and Geoffrey were waiting for him. Arthur was relieved his uncle wasn't there.
“We're almost ready for you,” Geoffrey said. “We've done a test on the microphone. You'll be live in five minutes.
Arthur nodded. His mouth felt dry. He put the briefcase onto the table and took out his speech. He didn't look at it and tried to keep it hidden hoping no-one would notice the notes Merlin had made for him.
“Ready, Sir?” Gaius asked.
“Yes,” he replied, glancing up at the stairs. “Shall w...we?”
There was a moment of concern on Geoffrey's face before he led the way up the stairs and into the stand. Arthur followed him, with Gaius bringing up the rear. As he took each step Arthur mentally counted them and timed his breathing to match.
Finally, they reached the stand where the dreaded microphone lay in wait like a lion waiting to pounce upon its prey. Arthur tried not to show his nerves as he stepped up to it and laid his speech out on the lectern in front of him. He didn't shuffle his papers but carefully smoothed a hand over them.
Glancing up he could see the crowds gathered all around and the ship in the dock before him. The bottle of mead dangled from the rope, held in place by a piece of ribbon. Once the words were said he would send the bottle sailing toward its target, but first he had to say his speech.
Looking at the stand opposite for a moment he panicked but then he saw Merlin. He was so small and almost unrecognisable among the vast crowd, but Arthur would know him anywhere. He focussed in on where Merlin was as Geoffrey frantically began to gesture to the light in front of Arthur. The red light blinked a couple of times and then came on.
Arthur took a deep breath and filtered out everything around him. He imagined the crowd melting away to leave a single solitary figure opposite. In his mind he was a conductor and the words his symphony. With that final thought he looked down and began to read out his speech.
“Ladies and gentlemen. It is my honour,” breathe, “to be here,” pause, “today,” another breath, “to launch our new ship,” pause, “the HMSA W..wyvern,” The 'W' tripped Arthur up but the end of the sentence afforded a longer pause. “ My father,” a breath, “is sadly unable,” a breath, “to attend,” a pause “but I come bearing his best wishes,” a quick pause, “and thanks to all those who have made this,” a leap onto the next word, “possible. This ship,” a pause to deal with the set of 's' sounds, “sets sail,” a breath, “with one of the finest,” another pause onto the c, “crews,” a quick breath, “in Albion,” a pause, “and I am sure,” a breath, “you will all join me,” pause, “in offering our respect to them,” a quick breath, “and passing on,” a pause, “our hope of a...” a breathe before the 's', “successful first voyage. I do not believe,” a pause, “that luck will be needed,” a breath, “although I am sure a little will not be,” a pause for the tricky bit, “unwelcome.” Another pause, more natural. “So I name this ship,” a breath, “the HMSA W...Wyvern,” a pause to get over the 'w', “may the gods bless her and all,” a pause before the 'w' and 's' sounds, “who sail in her.”
The red light was still on as Arthur untied the ribbon and took hold of the bottle of mead. He held it up and ready to be released and picked out Merlin. He wondered if it was his imagination, or if Merlin was smiling. He let go of the bottle, and it happily smashed into the ship releasing the liquid inside across the surface of the hull in a cascade.
The ship now began to slide from the docks into the sea. The crowd were cheering, the noise was deafening but as far as Arthur was concerned it could have all been silence. He had done it, he had made it through his first speech. There had been the odd slip up but compared to his last speech it had been near perfect.
The feeling of euphoria stayed with Arthur as he left the stand and was congratulated by Gaius and Geoffrey.
“Very well done, Sir,” Geoffrey said. “Your father would be proud.”
“Well done, Arthur,” Gaius said, smiling.
“Thank you, “Arthur replied. His knees felt a little wobbly.
He had to stay for awhile to mingle with the top navy brass. Luckily he had known them for years and was relaxed enough not to worry too much about his speech patterns when speaking to them. They were all familiar with Arthur's issues and his stammer, though they kept a polite silence about it.
“That really was an excellent speech,” Captain Leon said. “You father will be proud I'm sure.”
“Thank you,” Arthur said. He didn't yet know what his father's reaction was, but he hoped it was positive.
*****************************************************************************
When he returned to the palace he felt confident, right up until the moment his uncle appeared.
“Can I have a word, Arthur?” he asked. “In private.”
They went into Arthur's father's study. It felt wrong when Tristan went behind his father's desk. It was not his place, he was not Arthur's father, and he should not be taking the position of the king. Tristan touched a pen lying on the desk as if it belonged to him.
“I am sure my f...father will be back doing his p...paperwork in here... very soon,” Arthur said.
Tristan smiled, but it wasn't particularly friendly. “I'm sure he will. In the meantime I would like to offer my congratulations. That was quite the speech, Arthur.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
Tristan played with pen again. “I was surprised to hear you speak so,” he paused, “clearly.”
“I've been... practising,” Arthur said, feeling his nerves begin to affect him as his throat tightened.
“Yes, and so you should,” Tristan said. “After all your father might need you to step into some other aspects of his role. Make some more speeches on his behalf.”
“I will always... do my duty,” Arthur said, firmly.
“Yes, I'm sure you shall.” Tristan didn’t look too happy at the prospect.
“Well, now we're... finished here,” Arthur said, indicating it was he who would end the conversation. “I promised Morgana I would... speak with her.”
For a moment Tristan looked taken aback. “Yes, of course.”
Arthur left the study quietly but inside he was seething. His uncle had no right to act the way he did. Yet Arthur could not find a way to challenge him. His confidence seemed to evaporate in front of his older relatives, the ones who had seen him struggle with his speech since he'd been a child. His uncle made him feel like he was six years old again.
Morgana also seemed worried when he told her what had happened in the privacy of her rooms.
“I don't like it, Arthur. Tristan is up to something. He's been having meetings with some of the more important members of the court. He's barely visited Uther at all.”
“What do you think...he's planning?”
“I don’t know, but be careful, Arthur,” Morgana clasped his hand.
“How is f...father?” Arthur asked.
“Stable,” Morgana replied.
That hadn't been the positive comment Arthur had hoped for. He had hoped his father was getting better. His face must have shown as much.
“He'll be all right,” Morgana added. “It just takes time.”
Arthur nodded, though he had a feeling that Morgana wasn't telling him something. There was worry etched in her face and she was paler than usual.
“Your speech was excellent,” she said. “Even Uther liked it.”
“He did?” The approval of his father would mean true success.
Morgana nodded. “He said you were much improved even if he thought some of your pauses were too long.”
“I should see him,” Arthur said, standing up.
“Later,” Morgana replied. “He's resting.
Seeing her concern Arthur sat back down. “What aren't you... telling me, Morgana?”
His sister looked down. “Uther may never fully recover, Arthur,” she said. “The doctors want him to go to the country to rest and recuperate but he refuses to go. His heart is damaged, Arthur, and they can't cure him.”
“H...h...how long?” Arthur asked once the implication had sunk in, he leaned back in the chair in shock.
“Maybe a year if he stays here. He could have a few more if he moved out of the city.”
Arthur felt the world fall out from under him. He had always known his father was going to die, it was a fact of life but this...? “So s...s...soon?”
“He's mortal, Arthur, he always has been.”
“I'm not... ready,” Arthur said.
“You're more ready than you know,” Morgana whispered.
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It had been a rough night for Merlin. He had watched Arthur give his speech and he had never been more proud but afterwards, seeing all the people cheering, Merlin remembered the kiss and the line he had sworn not to cross, but had. How he had ever thought he and Arthur would work romantically he had no idea, he put it down to naivete.
Arthur belonged to Albion, to his people, to his duty. Merlin was selfish enough to want Arthur to belong to him too. However, he was not selfish enough to push himself before anything else. Much as it hurt, and much as his heart ached, he made the choice to end things with Arthur before they had begun.
Albion deserved her prince and Merlin would not take him from her.
The next morning he went into his rooms feeling distracted. A few of his patients asked if he was unwell. Merlin certainly felt sick but he had to stick it out. He apologised to his patients but all of them offered sympathy.
“You'll... be... okay,” Freya had told him. “You need.. .to sleep more.”
Merlin was pretty sure he wouldn't be all right or okay. He almost wished the clock would stop. However, where once the minutes would tick slowly by to the time of Arthur’s regular appointment now they sped up. Merlin knew he wasn't ready when he heard footsteps outside the door.
As Arthur entered, Merlin couldn't even meet his eyes. It was best to just get it over with. When Arthur moved to touch Merlin, hug him perhaps, Merlin held his hand up to stop him.
“ Arthur, no, we can't do this,” he said.
“Why not?”
Ignoring the deeply wounded look in Arthur's eyes Merlin carried on. “I'm your therapist. I can't get involved with my patients and you're not just any patient! You're the Prince!”
“That didn't... matter before. What changed... your mind?”
“Seeing you yesterday,” Merlin said, quietly. He owed it to Arthur to be honest. “I saw how much the people love you and rely on you. I can’t put that in jeopardy.”
“It's not... your choice to make... Merlin!” Arthur said, raising his voice.
“We don't have a choice, Arthur. I can't be your therapist.”
“What?” Arthur looked shocked.
“I can't risk going over the line with you,” Merlin said, tears pricked at his eyes. “I know I have already and I shouldn't have. I'll find you another therapist.”
Arthur began to pace near the doorway, his shoes hitting the wooden floorboards with some force. “I don't... w...want another... therapist. I w...want you. I want... you... Merlin.”
“We all want things we can't have,” Merlin said. He wanted a man who didn't belong to him.
“You w...want to give... up?”
Merlin looked Arthur in the eye and what he saw hurt his very core. “I can't...”
Arthur shook his head and put his hand on the door handle. “No, Merlin...you choose...not to...try. I didn’t think....you would...give up...on anything. Good bye... Merlin.”
Arthur opened the door and as he left Merlin couldn’t even say goodbye. He told himself it was for the right reasons, that it was for Arthur's sake that he had said it. That was little comfort, however, when he was left in an empty room with the man he'd come to love walking out of his life. His heart hurt and his head ached.
He cancelled the rest of his appointments and went home.
*****************************************************************************
That evening Arthur didn't go down for dinner. He still felt sick. Merlin had rejected him. Worse, Merlin had rejected him because he was the prince. Arthur had thought his rank hadn't mattered to Merlin, that Merlin had seen who he really was, and maybe he had, but part of Merlin was still seeing the prince. The Crown Prince whose life had been built on duty to everyone but himself.
“Arthur, let me in,” Morgana called through the locked door. “Let me in or I'll get Gwen to fetch a locksmith.”
Sighing Arthur got up off the bed where he'd been sitting and went over to the door. He opened it to find Morgana looking worriedly at him. “Oh Arthur,” she said.
Arthur walked back into the room and sat down on his bed again, the soft sheets jarring against his emotions. “I don't... need sympathy.”
“What happened?” Morgana asked, sitting down beside him.
“I fell in love... with Merlin,” Arthur said. “Only he... he wanted to... he won’t see me. Be...cause I'm the... prince,” Arthur spat out the last word.
“Arthur, you never make it easy for yourself,” Morgana said, hugging him. “Merlin will come around, you'll see.”
“I can't... carry on,” Arthur said.
“No, you prove to Merlin you can do it. You show him the man you are. You show him what he's missing.”
“I... miss... him,”Arthur said. “Knowing I'm... not going to... see him... tomorrow.”
“I know,” Morgana said. “But you still have your duty.”
For the first time in his life Arthur felt a certain resentment toward his duty. Yet, even now, he knew he couldn't give it up. “I know,” he said. He just wished Merlin had seen that Arthur deserved more.
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Part 3