If Wishes were... part 8
A continuation of my "If Wishes were" story. I've posted chapters 5-7 on AO3 so all the links are below.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: If Wishes were… part 8
Rating: G
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Arthur is really not happy with modern times but he wanted Merlin to tell the truth for once.
Word Count: 1368
Camelot_drabble Prompt: 490, Bargain
Author's Notes: unbetaed, A continuation of Arthur returning in modern times and not being exactly thrilled with all the changes.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
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The sun was just peeking through the clouds, promising a sunny day at least. The temperatures must have risen, too, because a lot of the snow was melting into mud and wet. In some ways, snow was easier to deal with. Mud was slippery and a very real potential for one of them to get hurt.
A quick check of the weather website and it looked like travel would be a lot easier, though. They might even make it to within five miles of Camelot if they pushed it.
But Merlin didn’t say anything about it, just shook Arthur awake, then handed him dry clothes. “Breakfast is included so when you are ready, we can go downstairs.” When Arthur just blinked up at him, Merlin said, “Normal food, Arthur. Eggs and meat and cheese. You could try tea or maybe coffee if you want but there’ll be milk and water, too.”
“No mead?” Arthur said, then got up and started dressing.
Merlin wasn’t sure if Arthur was mocking him, or he really did want to get rat-arsed so early in the morning. But trying to lighten things, hoping to connect, he gave Arthur a grin. “Nope, can’t be having you wobbling down the stairs, now can we?”
“I’m not the one who wobbles,” Arthur stopped, started to grin back, then must have thought better of it. “You never needed an excuse, though. Unless that was a lie, too?”
“Nope, still the worst servant in the Five Kingdoms.” Merlin shrugged, then shoved his feet into his boots. “It’s annoying, really. You would think after all this time, I’d have learned not to trip over my own feet.”
“Well, at least some things never change.” Arthur gave a little huff, tinged with caution, then shoved his feet down into his boots, ready to meet the day.
Merlin reached out, wanting to connect but thought better of it. Instead, he gave Arthur another careful smile. “A wise man once told me not to change.” But he couldn’t keep the entreaty out of his voice. He hated it, he hated how things were between them. “I am still the same man underneath, Arthur. I won’t tell you that I haven’t changed over the years. It was impossible not to, but I’m still Merlin. I’m still your friend and I hope you are mine, too.”
“When I told you we couldn’t be friends, I wasn’t being exactly truthful about it. Nobles and servants as friends? My father would have had a fit and most likely punished you for your impertinence.” Arthur stood there, watching Merlin’s face as he said, “We were, though, even when I tried to deny it.”
But when Merlin grinned at him, so relieved to hear that maybe they’d be okay after all, Arthur just shook his head and stepped away, out of reach. “But in many ways, I still don’t know who you are. Those last desperate days brought out so many things that I hadn’t known before or had any idea of. I thought you were a loyal idiot who tried to protect me far too often for your own good. Instead, you hid things from me. And that’s a problem, Merlin.”
The moment’s happiness slid away, and Merlin felt as if his heart had stopped with the way Arthur was looking at him, wary and disappointed and careful.
Wanting to explain, Merlin started to babble, “Arthur….”
Putting a hand up as if warning Merlin to stop whatever he was about to say, Arthur said, sharp and firm, “No, I know you were trying to protect me, but you should have told me everything long ago. When I became king, you should have told me. And instead, you made decisions that weren’t yours to make.”
Merlin had to gulp back the sorrow clawing up his throat. It was true, all of it.
But Arthur wasn’t done. “And because you lied about it and hid vital information, I couldn’t the king I should have been, protecting my people as they should have been protected. They were my responsibility, my duty. It was mine to decide how to proceed and you took that away. Friends don’t do that. Friends support each other, helping them make good choices and arguing when they are about to make bad ones, but in the end, it should have been my decision and not yours.”
Arthur was right. Merlin had done the best he could, considering what he’d known, but in the end, the fear that Arthur would reject him and send him into exile or worse had been too much. And everything after that went to hell.
Merlin couldn’t let it go, though, couldn’t let Arthur think it had all been a walk in the park for Merlin. “You think it was that easy? I wanted to tell you every single damn day. But I know duty, too. Duty to you, duty to Albion and destiny. And knowing that every day, you were in more and more danger. You were my world, and I couldn’t let you die. I couldn’t.”
“And yet I did die,” Arthur said, shaking his head. “Because everyone dies, Merlin. Except you apparently.” As Merlin stood there, gaping at him, frozen with hurt, Arthur lifted his head, and hardened his voice. “And I’d rather die protecting my people than cowering in some castle somewhere, oblivious to the truth. So if we are going to go forward, I need to know the truth. All of it.”
The air seemed to congeal. Arthur stood there, his face set in stone, waiting for Merlin to make up his mind.
As if there was ever a choice.
“Arthur, I won’t… I won’t lie to you again.” In a way, it would be a relief. Merlin’s lies had grown mountain-heavy, becoming more and more impossible to shoulder every day, but it wouldn’t be that easy, either. Carefully, Merlin said, “Sometimes, though, truth can be harder to take.”
Arthur seemed to relax at that. Shrugging, giving Merlin a tentative smile, he said, “Truth is always harder to take. But how can we make the right decisions otherwise?”
Feeling the worry beginning to lift, knowing that there would likely be arguments and pain ahead, Merlin nodded anyway. “Still wise, I see. Although most of the time, you were a dollophead. I doubt that had changed any.”
“Still an idiot, I see,” Arthur grumbled back, then swept his hand around, pointing to the lamps, the telly, the ensuite beyond. “So if I’m to trust you again, I need to know. Did you do something? Am I… is Camelot under an enchantment, much as the Perilous Lands or Queen Mab’s domain had been?”
Not wanting to hurt Arthur further, still Merlin had promised the truth and he wasn’t going to go back on his word again. “I’m sorry, Arthur, but it’s no enchantment. It’s as real as you or I.”
“Magic is real, too,” Arthur pointed out.
Merlin nodded. “Yes, although you will find that most people these days don’t believe in it. Magic has weakened over the centuries until I can hardly feel it anymore. I think it might be dying.”
Arthur seemed pleased at that. “Good.”
Merlin tried not to flinch. It hurt to hear the delight in Arthur’s voice but in a way, Arthur had no idea of the beauty of magic, or the gentle joy Merlin felt whenever he used his powers. He had only seen the deception, the monsters created for destruction, and Morgana’s madness.
Not wanting to ruin the tentative peace between them, Merlin said, “Well, I’m hungry and besides, the sun is up and we’ve miles to go. I looked up the weather and it should be good for the next couple of days.”
“Looked up? Is that some king of modern thing?” Arthur raised one eyebrow, waiting to see what Merlin would say.
“It’s the internet but…,” Merlin started, then realised the monumental task of explaining the web to someone who didn’t understand electricity or indoor plumbing, shrugged. “Never mind. I’ll show you when we get home.”
As Arthur opened the door, and began to walk downstairs toward breakfast, he said, over his shoulder, “You mean when we get to Camelot.”
Merlin didn’t reply.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: If Wishes were… part 8
Rating: G
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: Arthur is really not happy with modern times but he wanted Merlin to tell the truth for once.
Word Count: 1368
Camelot_drabble Prompt: 490, Bargain
Author's Notes: unbetaed, A continuation of Arthur returning in modern times and not being exactly thrilled with all the changes.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
----------------------
The sun was just peeking through the clouds, promising a sunny day at least. The temperatures must have risen, too, because a lot of the snow was melting into mud and wet. In some ways, snow was easier to deal with. Mud was slippery and a very real potential for one of them to get hurt.
A quick check of the weather website and it looked like travel would be a lot easier, though. They might even make it to within five miles of Camelot if they pushed it.
But Merlin didn’t say anything about it, just shook Arthur awake, then handed him dry clothes. “Breakfast is included so when you are ready, we can go downstairs.” When Arthur just blinked up at him, Merlin said, “Normal food, Arthur. Eggs and meat and cheese. You could try tea or maybe coffee if you want but there’ll be milk and water, too.”
“No mead?” Arthur said, then got up and started dressing.
Merlin wasn’t sure if Arthur was mocking him, or he really did want to get rat-arsed so early in the morning. But trying to lighten things, hoping to connect, he gave Arthur a grin. “Nope, can’t be having you wobbling down the stairs, now can we?”
“I’m not the one who wobbles,” Arthur stopped, started to grin back, then must have thought better of it. “You never needed an excuse, though. Unless that was a lie, too?”
“Nope, still the worst servant in the Five Kingdoms.” Merlin shrugged, then shoved his feet into his boots. “It’s annoying, really. You would think after all this time, I’d have learned not to trip over my own feet.”
“Well, at least some things never change.” Arthur gave a little huff, tinged with caution, then shoved his feet down into his boots, ready to meet the day.
Merlin reached out, wanting to connect but thought better of it. Instead, he gave Arthur another careful smile. “A wise man once told me not to change.” But he couldn’t keep the entreaty out of his voice. He hated it, he hated how things were between them. “I am still the same man underneath, Arthur. I won’t tell you that I haven’t changed over the years. It was impossible not to, but I’m still Merlin. I’m still your friend and I hope you are mine, too.”
“When I told you we couldn’t be friends, I wasn’t being exactly truthful about it. Nobles and servants as friends? My father would have had a fit and most likely punished you for your impertinence.” Arthur stood there, watching Merlin’s face as he said, “We were, though, even when I tried to deny it.”
But when Merlin grinned at him, so relieved to hear that maybe they’d be okay after all, Arthur just shook his head and stepped away, out of reach. “But in many ways, I still don’t know who you are. Those last desperate days brought out so many things that I hadn’t known before or had any idea of. I thought you were a loyal idiot who tried to protect me far too often for your own good. Instead, you hid things from me. And that’s a problem, Merlin.”
The moment’s happiness slid away, and Merlin felt as if his heart had stopped with the way Arthur was looking at him, wary and disappointed and careful.
Wanting to explain, Merlin started to babble, “Arthur….”
Putting a hand up as if warning Merlin to stop whatever he was about to say, Arthur said, sharp and firm, “No, I know you were trying to protect me, but you should have told me everything long ago. When I became king, you should have told me. And instead, you made decisions that weren’t yours to make.”
Merlin had to gulp back the sorrow clawing up his throat. It was true, all of it.
But Arthur wasn’t done. “And because you lied about it and hid vital information, I couldn’t the king I should have been, protecting my people as they should have been protected. They were my responsibility, my duty. It was mine to decide how to proceed and you took that away. Friends don’t do that. Friends support each other, helping them make good choices and arguing when they are about to make bad ones, but in the end, it should have been my decision and not yours.”
Arthur was right. Merlin had done the best he could, considering what he’d known, but in the end, the fear that Arthur would reject him and send him into exile or worse had been too much. And everything after that went to hell.
Merlin couldn’t let it go, though, couldn’t let Arthur think it had all been a walk in the park for Merlin. “You think it was that easy? I wanted to tell you every single damn day. But I know duty, too. Duty to you, duty to Albion and destiny. And knowing that every day, you were in more and more danger. You were my world, and I couldn’t let you die. I couldn’t.”
“And yet I did die,” Arthur said, shaking his head. “Because everyone dies, Merlin. Except you apparently.” As Merlin stood there, gaping at him, frozen with hurt, Arthur lifted his head, and hardened his voice. “And I’d rather die protecting my people than cowering in some castle somewhere, oblivious to the truth. So if we are going to go forward, I need to know the truth. All of it.”
The air seemed to congeal. Arthur stood there, his face set in stone, waiting for Merlin to make up his mind.
As if there was ever a choice.
“Arthur, I won’t… I won’t lie to you again.” In a way, it would be a relief. Merlin’s lies had grown mountain-heavy, becoming more and more impossible to shoulder every day, but it wouldn’t be that easy, either. Carefully, Merlin said, “Sometimes, though, truth can be harder to take.”
Arthur seemed to relax at that. Shrugging, giving Merlin a tentative smile, he said, “Truth is always harder to take. But how can we make the right decisions otherwise?”
Feeling the worry beginning to lift, knowing that there would likely be arguments and pain ahead, Merlin nodded anyway. “Still wise, I see. Although most of the time, you were a dollophead. I doubt that had changed any.”
“Still an idiot, I see,” Arthur grumbled back, then swept his hand around, pointing to the lamps, the telly, the ensuite beyond. “So if I’m to trust you again, I need to know. Did you do something? Am I… is Camelot under an enchantment, much as the Perilous Lands or Queen Mab’s domain had been?”
Not wanting to hurt Arthur further, still Merlin had promised the truth and he wasn’t going to go back on his word again. “I’m sorry, Arthur, but it’s no enchantment. It’s as real as you or I.”
“Magic is real, too,” Arthur pointed out.
Merlin nodded. “Yes, although you will find that most people these days don’t believe in it. Magic has weakened over the centuries until I can hardly feel it anymore. I think it might be dying.”
Arthur seemed pleased at that. “Good.”
Merlin tried not to flinch. It hurt to hear the delight in Arthur’s voice but in a way, Arthur had no idea of the beauty of magic, or the gentle joy Merlin felt whenever he used his powers. He had only seen the deception, the monsters created for destruction, and Morgana’s madness.
Not wanting to ruin the tentative peace between them, Merlin said, “Well, I’m hungry and besides, the sun is up and we’ve miles to go. I looked up the weather and it should be good for the next couple of days.”
“Looked up? Is that some king of modern thing?” Arthur raised one eyebrow, waiting to see what Merlin would say.
“It’s the internet but…,” Merlin started, then realised the monumental task of explaining the web to someone who didn’t understand electricity or indoor plumbing, shrugged. “Never mind. I’ll show you when we get home.”
As Arthur opened the door, and began to walk downstairs toward breakfast, he said, over his shoulder, “You mean when we get to Camelot.”
Merlin didn’t reply.