bbc merlin| In your hands my heart rests (Ch. 6/c)
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Three weeks have passed and Merlin still feels as though he is bleeding. People in Ealdor remember his mother and have welcomed him among them. He helps in the fields and sometimes they come to him when some ointment or salve is needed.
He spends almost every night awake, sat underneath an oak near his parents’ old house, looking at the fields disappearing in the darkness. He thinks of Camelot, laying right behind the hills. He thinks about Arthur; about the kid he grow up with, the boy he fell in love with and the man that looked at him with pained azure eyes and told him to go away.
Sometimes he doesn’t even feel strong enough to hope that he will be back one day, to see Arthur sat on his throne, to see him happy without him by his side.
*
He is working in the vegetable garden when Orland walks up to him.
“Have you heard the news, Merlin? Prince Arthur is finally going to be crowned two days from now!”
A shiver runs down Merlin’s spine. This is the moment he and Arthur have been dreaming about since they were kids; they had imagined themselves riding their horses across the kingdom, a shiny crown on Arthur’s head and the future in their hands.
It’s thrilling and it hurts like hell, because in all his dreams he was there, right by Arthur’s side. It doesn’t help that over time his dreams slightly changed and Arthur kissed him after the ceremony, all smiles and promises.
Despite the pain and longing that twirl around his bones, Merlin doesn’t even try to convince himself that he shouldn’t go to Camelot on the day of the coronation. He needs to be there.
///
Arthur presses his forehead against the cool glass of his room’s window. His bones feel heavy with the knowledge that in a little he is going to be standing in front of people who are expecting him to be a good king, to be brave and just when he has been so coward to let the love of his life slip through his fingers.
He wonders what would have Merlin said if he had been here; if he would have taken his hand and kissed him softly before promising him a bright future. It’s Gwen who knocks on the door, though, and she looks at him with those eyes of hers, warm and gentle and yet capable to pierce right through his soul.
Arthur lets her take his hand; it’s not the same, but she knows, she knows the compact weight he is carrying and she has never judged him for that. The walk along the corridors seems to take ages when they finally stop in front of the throne room Gwen squeezes his hand one last time.
“You are going to make all of us proud, Arthur. You already do.”
Arthur thinks about Merlin, probably miles away and can’t find it in him to be proud about himself. He wants to run and leave all of this behind him, but he can’t and he pushes the heavy wooden door open.
///
Morgana is leaning against the wall right in front of the entrance to the passage; Merlin blinks.
“I knew you would come.”
For an instant he is almost afraid that she will alert the guards, but there’s nothing but affection in her green eyes. Right now she looks so similar to the little girl who used to join him and Arthur or their explorations of the castle that the nostalgia is palpable in the air, pressing right against Merlin’s chest.
Before he can answer Morgana is speaking again.
“Are you here to stay?”
Merlin shakes his head, heart heavy.
“I can’t.”
“You should, though. He wants you here. He needs you here.”
Merlin opens and closes his mouth; when he finally manages to speak his voice is thin like air.
“I…he has to be the one to ask me to stay.”
*
As soon as he enters the throne room, Merlin spots Gaius, standing in the front row and Gwaine and the other knights all donning their Camelot’s red cloaks. He wishes he could go up to them as he wishes he could see and speak to his mother.
But he isn’t supposed to be here; he is just a ghost in the place that has always been home to him.
The sound of the doors opening shakes him out of his thoughts and makes his heart speed up, magic bouncing along his bones. He knows he could turn and look at Arthur as he walks up to the throne where Geoffrey is waiting, crown in hand; his whole body trembles with the need to turn, to move, after the time spent alone, nursing memories of Arthur’s smile, of his hands, of his voice. But he doesn’t. Arthur might spot him and he can’t risk that. Adjusting the cape over his head, Merlin slips behind a column.
Then Arthur is standing on the podium, looking at the people assembled in the room and he is the most beautiful thing that Merlin has ever seen. The light pours through the high windows and slides over the golden of his hair, surrounding him like a soft halo. Merlin thinks that being here, to see the moment when finally Arthur becomes what he was always meant to be is worth it; he could die happily after this.
When finally Geoffrey lowers the crown on Arthur’s head, Merlin isn’t surprised to feel tears running down his cheeks; his heart is about to burst with pride and love. So big that he is sure that it is going to be engraved in his bones until the end of time.
He forces his legs to move, though; the tears are still falling when he slips past the doors.
///
Time seems to stop and Arthur has to force himself to breathe. His gaze is focused on the cloaked figure that has just slipped past the door. His heart slams against his ribcage and before he even registers what it is happening he is moving, almost tripping on his feet in the haste to reach the entrance.
He runs along the corridors, his lung burning and his feet moving on their own accord. He hopes that he is not mistaken, he hopes he can finally do the right thing.
He stumbles out, the light of the afternoon almost blinding him and all the air leaves his lungs as he spots a dark figure walking quickly along the southern bastion, towards the entrance to the passage he knows leads at the woods right behind Camelot.
“Merlin!”
The name tastes different on his tongue and he doesn’t know if it is because of the desperate hedge in his voice or because this is the first time that he pronounces it fully aware of what he feels for his best friend.
The figure stops but doesn’t turn and Arthur runs towards him, stopping at a few paces of distance.
“Merlin…you came…”
The figure lowers his cape and turns. Merlin’s eyes seem bluer and deeper than ever. His voice is shaky when he speaks.
“I…I couldn’t stay away on a day like this. Please, don’t hate me, just…just let me go…”
Arthur leans forward and grabs Merlin’s wrist; he can feel his pulse fluttering under his fingertips.
“I don’t want to..”
“Arthur?”
Arthur takes a deep breathe, because this is it, this is the time to be brave.
“I don’t want to let you go, Merlin, not this time. I…I want you to be by my side through it all.”
He watches as Merlin blinks, his lips slightly parted and his eyes glinting. To realize that he has been crying is like a punch in the stomach.
“But…I…you…I hurt you, Arthur. I…my magic…”
Arthur shakes his head and grips Merlin’s wrist tighter, pulling him closer, until the tips of their noses are brushing and for once he doesn’t care about what people might see or think or say.
“I know now that your magic is the same thing that made my life possible”
“Arthur…”
“Do you remember the dreams we used to have when we were kids? When we imagined exploring my kingdom together, just you and me?”
Merlin nods, his eyes wide and so beautiful that Arthur wants to lose himself in the skies they hold.
“I want them to be real. I need them to be, Merlin. I need you.”
Merlin takes in breath and closes his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering black against the perfect whiteness of his skin and Arthur can’t hold back anymore. Merlin’s lips feel like home and completeness and Arthur pours everything that he has in the kiss, all the longing and the love.
When they break apart he keeps Merlin close, their lips brushing when he speaks.
“Say yes, please.”
He can feel Merlin smile, his lips soft against his own.
“Yes.”
I'll be there by your side for the rest of your life
Our bodies could fall off the end of the world
THE END
art by flomacaroon