Can You Feel The Magic Tonight?
Title: Can You Feel The Magic Tonight?
Author: liamuse
Rating: G
Pairing: Merthur
Summary: Arthur Pendragon can be a total arse and that's a fact. What if one night, he finally lets Merlin see through his mask and show him his true self?
Feedback: Love it like pasta saturdays and tuesgays.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to BBC.
Notes: I can't believe I haven't post anything in a year. I'm so sorry I've been away for so long. I'll hopefully start posting again very soon. Belldom fictions (I Choose To Stay Alive and Stockholm Syndrome) need their proper ending, eh? =)
P.S. HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY!
“Are you alright, sir?” asks Merlin, fastening the golden belt around Arthur’s waist and dusting the prince’s fancy jacket.
The prince seems a bit absentminded tonight which doesn’t go unnoticed by his manservant. When he doesn’t reply, Merlin realises he didn’t even hear his question.
“My lord,” repeats Merlin a bit louder.
“Hm?” The blond’s eyes look up, quick and confused.
“Are you alright?”
“Of course I am alright, Merlin. Why wouldn’t I be alright. I’m perfectly alright,” babbles the prince, refusing to meet his servant’s eyes.
“Arthur,” says Merlin firmly, forgetting all formalities, which makes the prince look him in the eye in surprise.
Not that he’s not used to it by now. Nonetheless he wants to point out the boy’s disrespect, but he’s quickly interrupted.
“You’ve been restless all afternoon. Haven’t eaten anything since yesterday’s dinner. I’m getting slightly concerned about you.”
Arthur keeps quiet for a while, fumbling with the hem of his snow-white shirt, then takes a few steps towards the window to look up at the bright full moon. “Have you forgotten what kind of night it is?”
The young man shakes his head like Arthur could see him. He’s only bared witness to the prince’s aching heart a few times; all of them had the same cause. Although it wasn’t always there for everyone to see, Arthur has always had an incredibly strong sense for what family and friendship meant. And even though he’s mostly tended to behave like a complete arse, Merlin knows by now that Arthur’s nothing like that. That it’s all just thoroughly mastered disguise, like the time he was sick with fear when Morgana got gravely ill and there was almost no chance of her recovery. He was pacing around his chambers, shouting at Merlin, calling him names, but Merlin knew he didn’t mean it. On the contrary, he was doing his best to make his prince feel better. He was able to do so then, and he’s going to do the very same thing this time. No one has to know Morgana’s alive only thanks to his magic.
Merlin takes a place right behind the blond and places a hand on his shoulder to try and show his sympathy through the simple gesture.
“You know I haven’t. How could I,” he whispers and strokes the expensive silk under his fingers. “It happened over 20 years ago though. Stop blaming yourself. It’s your birthday. You should be celebrating.”
“I can’t,” Arthur sighs and shakes his head. “You know I can’t, Merlin. Can you hear it? The music? How can they hold a feast, eat and sing, dance?” he spins around, facing his manservant with a despair. He suddenly finds himself gripping the boy’s arms tightly, silently pleading with his eyes. “She’s dead, Merlin. I killed her, my own mother, and now they want me to celebrate my birth? Every year, I face it, Merlin. Every damn year I have to try and forgive myself for killing her. God knows I still haven’t found a way to do so.
Merlin sighs. He can’t use magic to make Arthur laugh, it doesn’t work that way, but neither can he let him drown in his sorrow.
He has to do something.
Anything.
“You don’t have to celebrate,” offers the brunet and continues when he sees his sir looking up at him with interest. He disentangles one of his arms from the prince’s grip and places his palm on Arthur’s shoulder, stroking slowly. “You can stay here but please, stop this mourning? It’s not your fault, Arthur,” he says softly, yet urgently. “It’s not your fault.”
“Merlin,” Arthur’s trying to stay strong, that much is obvious. He lets go of Merlin and looks back up at the moon. The servant however can hear the little crack in his voice and fights the urge to start crying himself. It’s his prince after all. It’s his prince who’s letting go of the stupid mask of his and is now showing Merlin his true self. Because he trusts him.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Do you ever feel like your father’s watching you from above?” Merlin certainly didn’t expect such a question and that’s why his heart clenches with anxiety, but the corners of his mouth curl up involuntarily as he nods and smiles up at the skies.
“He’s out there. Somewhere. And he knows I miss him every second.
I know how you feel, Arthur. And trust me when I tell you your mother’s proud of you. She’s looking down at you and she’s full of love she didn’t have the chance to give you. But you feel it, don’t you? Every second. You’re everything she’d wish you to be. You’re a future king and you’re going to be the best king that has ever walked this land. I know that.”
Merlin will never know he said exactly what Arthur needed to hear in that moment, but perhaps he could easily deduce it from the way the prince smiles. If he weren’t too blown away by that smile… Another thing he isn’t aware of is, that in that very moment the prince himself realised that words weren’t the only thing he needed. He turned around then, and Merlin’s words died in his throat. The tears in Arthur’s eyes made his heart skip a beat. He’s not thinking when he reaches up and brushes away the tears that have already fallen on a royal cheek. Merlin starts when Arthur takes a hold of his wrist.
There’s the line he had no right to cross.
“I-I’m sorry, sir. I-”
“Do something for me.”
“Shut...up?”
“Dance with me.”
“I’m… what?” And so now blue eyes open wide in confusion and Arthur smiles and turns his whole body so he can properly face his servant. A few seconds go by and then the prince doesn’t wait for approval, maybe because what he sees in those beautiful eyes is enough for him. And he laughs a little bit nervously when he takes Merlin’s hand in his own and presses his tiny body against his chest. Merlin can only stare at Arthur’s face with his mouth open. He lets himself think for a tiny, tiniest of moments, that maybe, maybe the prince knows. That he knows and doesn’t care because everything Merlin has done, he’s done it for Arthur. He knows Merlin’s lied to protect him. To protect Arthur.
He lets himself dream about Arthur feeling the same. That maybe he actually feels the connection of their fates and that he knows they belong together, because there’s no other way it could be. And how could it? How could it be when Arthur’s heart beats fast and strong against his chest and the warmth and affection is so clear in the prince’s eyes?
Then he remembers.
He’s just a servant.
A nobody who happens to have magic.
Someone who can’t ever believe for the briefest of seconds that a man like Arthur Pendragon could ever love them.
And so his heart, beautiful and fragile, clenches with excruciating sadness.
He slowly sways in the rhythm of Arthur’s body. Breathing is quickly becoming an issue for how strongly the prince is holding him and he suddenly feels hotter than he should. It surely isn’t because of the way Arthur’s hand keeps him firmly in place, pressing down on his lower back.
“I used to feel so lonely, Merlin. I still feel that way sometimes - when I’m training knights, studying, even when I’m dining with my father. Then I’m alone in my chambers and you come, all smiles and enthusiasm and then I realise… it’s gone. The feeling of sadness and loneliness is gone.
I might be an heir to the throne, future king to thousands people, but I felt like I was so alone,” he murmurs, his head bends just a bit closer to Merlin’s and his warm breath tickles the soft skin behind his servant’s ear as he speaks.
And Merlin listens, because this is Arthur. And he feels like this is his Arthur.
“They might like me, there might be knights looking up to me, people taking bows to show their respect or gratitude, but… I’d have given it all up for-” he laughs, his cheeks turning pink. “I sound like a love-struck girl.”
“No! Please, go on.”
“I would have given up all of that for one single person who’d put an end to the loneliness in my heart, for a person who’d love me. To be able to feel the warmth of their body. To love and be loved without any contradictions, without rules and differences. And I can see it so clearly now. Like it was meant to be. All this time.”
Merlin can’t and doesn’t even want to look away when he looks up into those piercing blue, honest eyes. “And then you came to Camelot. And I felt… actually felt for the first time in my life that little something I’d always waited for. There’s something about you, Merlin…”
“You said… said the same thing the first time we met.”
“You remember,” Arthur smiles with a smile so bright he might look like the happiest man. In this moment it’s almost true because he has Merlin in his arms and it feels so right. His manservant clings to him like his life depends on it… and maybe it does.
He knows what he needs to do. He finally knows.
“It’s like destiny. Nothing I’ve ever felt even comes close to how I feel now.”
“Right… now?”
“You feel it too, don’t you,” a chuckle escapes his mouth as he’s looking at Merlin with affection. “You always did and now I finally know. It’s like-”
“Magic.”
Merlin breaths out those words and his voice is shaking with tears and it sounds like the most beautiful sound in the world when they say the simple little word together in the darkness of the quiet chamber.
In this very moment, Merlin could fight an army of millions and could climb the highest mountains. Because Arthur knew. He really knew.
“It’s like it’s in all of Camelot, like it radiates right from its heart. I feel it all the time. And do you know when I feel it the strongest?”
Merlin just barely shakes his head, not able to bear Arthur’s words any longer.
“When I’m with you,” the prince finishes, his voice nothing more than a whisper as with shaking hand he reaches forward to brush his fingers against Merlin’s burning cheek.
“You are the magic.”
When Merlin wraps his hand around Arthur’s to press it firmer against his skin, the prince leans in and captures the warlock’s lips in a tender kiss.