Small Price
Title: Small Price
Author: b_o_w_a
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: mentions of mpreg, Character death
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Summary: With each beat the little boy’s heart grows stronger, and with each beat, Merlin’s own heart grows weaker.
Author's Notes (A/N): Written for merlinxarthur's fanfic challenge #4. Written for this prompt from kinkme_merlin .
It’s easy to see, the way that Arthur and Gwen mourn. The castle should be filed with laughter and giggles and blond children with smooth creamy skin but it isn’t. It’s bare and cold and there’s laughter, but it isn’t that of the heir’s of Camelot and it’s starting to affect everyone.
And Merlin can see the way it kills his king.
----
He knows what he’s risking, what he’s offering, but it doesn’t matter anymore. There are many things that Arthur loves, but nothing is above Camelot, and Merlin can’t watch it waste away, not when he can do something about it.
He knows life, knows that life cannot be given without one being taken; it’s a small price to pay for Camelot, for Arthur’s happiness.
----
Merlin doesn’t tell Arthur and Gwen of the risks, but the way Gwen’s eyes water up and the way Arthur’s eyes track him for the rest of the afternoon prove that they know it doesn’t come without strings attached.
Arthur waits for him at the end of the day, his face that of a king who holds the weight of the world on his shoulders.
His voice is soft and tender, the caress he gives to Merlin’s check almost makes Merlin break, but he can’t see Arthur mourn any longer.
“I can forbid you from doing this.” One of Arthur’s hands tightens around Merlin’s hip, drawing him closer.
“But you won’t.” It’s a statement but a flash of guilt crosses Arthur’s face; he doesn’t try to deny it.
“You’re not telling me all the truth.” Arthur sits on the edge of the bed, pulling Merlin with him.
“I’m telling you what you need to know.” Merlin runs a hand through Arthur’s hair.
It feels like this is the last time this will ever happen, that Arthur will never touch him like a lover again.
Sadness and anger and pain claw in his chest.
Arthur leans back on the bed, bringing Merlin with him. Neither of them moves, both aware that everything is changing around them.
“Please, Merlin, don’t do this.” His lips trail up the exposed pale skin of Merlin’s neck, his breath tickling the small hairs on the back.
Merlin’s breathing shakes. “Please….just…love me.”
Arthur’s grip tightens around him. “Always,”
---
Tears stream down Merlin’s face, a silent trail of regret and sorrow. Arthur’s breathing is slow and calm behind him, his arms strong and warm where they wrap around Merlin’s waist.
The spell was cast before he came to his room, there’s no going back, no chance for Arthur and Gwen and Merlin to change their minds.
“I’m sorry, love.”
He will die, but the child will live; Arthur will miss him, but he will go on, just like Camelot will go on, Arthur’s descendants leading them forth.
----
The small child is pushed towards him, but Merlin shakes his head, pushing the heir of Camelot towards his mother; Gwen smiles at him.
With each beat the little boy’s heart grows stronger, and with each beat, Merlin’s own heart grows weaker.
But Arthur’s smiling, looking at the small boy that is his son with awe and admiration, and Merlin smiles. It’s all been worth it.
---
They bury Merlin in the Royal Graveyard, next to where Arthur will be laid when he dies.
Arthur and Gwen and Lancelot bring Will to see Merlin at least once a month from the time he’s five and old enough to understand; Will adds his small treasures to the rest of the offerings at Merlin’s grave, gifts from the people in thanks for Will and the happiness that has filled Camelot once again because of him.
---
Sometimes, late at night when the castle is quiet, and Will’s sleeping soundly and Gwen’s wrapped up tightly in the of safety Lancelot’s arms, Arthur sneaks out of his room, disappearing to his own quiet place.
Sometimes he just sits at Merlin’s grave, other times he talks about his memories, and other times, what he does most often, is sit at Merlin’s grave and cry.
Because all those years ago Arthur knew what Merlin was getting into and he didn’t try to stop him.
Author: b_o_w_a
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: mentions of mpreg, Character death
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Summary: With each beat the little boy’s heart grows stronger, and with each beat, Merlin’s own heart grows weaker.
Author's Notes (A/N): Written for merlinxarthur's fanfic challenge #4. Written for this prompt from kinkme_merlin .
It’s easy to see, the way that Arthur and Gwen mourn. The castle should be filed with laughter and giggles and blond children with smooth creamy skin but it isn’t. It’s bare and cold and there’s laughter, but it isn’t that of the heir’s of Camelot and it’s starting to affect everyone.
And Merlin can see the way it kills his king.
----
He knows what he’s risking, what he’s offering, but it doesn’t matter anymore. There are many things that Arthur loves, but nothing is above Camelot, and Merlin can’t watch it waste away, not when he can do something about it.
He knows life, knows that life cannot be given without one being taken; it’s a small price to pay for Camelot, for Arthur’s happiness.
----
Merlin doesn’t tell Arthur and Gwen of the risks, but the way Gwen’s eyes water up and the way Arthur’s eyes track him for the rest of the afternoon prove that they know it doesn’t come without strings attached.
Arthur waits for him at the end of the day, his face that of a king who holds the weight of the world on his shoulders.
His voice is soft and tender, the caress he gives to Merlin’s check almost makes Merlin break, but he can’t see Arthur mourn any longer.
“I can forbid you from doing this.” One of Arthur’s hands tightens around Merlin’s hip, drawing him closer.
“But you won’t.” It’s a statement but a flash of guilt crosses Arthur’s face; he doesn’t try to deny it.
“You’re not telling me all the truth.” Arthur sits on the edge of the bed, pulling Merlin with him.
“I’m telling you what you need to know.” Merlin runs a hand through Arthur’s hair.
It feels like this is the last time this will ever happen, that Arthur will never touch him like a lover again.
Sadness and anger and pain claw in his chest.
Arthur leans back on the bed, bringing Merlin with him. Neither of them moves, both aware that everything is changing around them.
“Please, Merlin, don’t do this.” His lips trail up the exposed pale skin of Merlin’s neck, his breath tickling the small hairs on the back.
Merlin’s breathing shakes. “Please….just…love me.”
Arthur’s grip tightens around him. “Always,”
---
Tears stream down Merlin’s face, a silent trail of regret and sorrow. Arthur’s breathing is slow and calm behind him, his arms strong and warm where they wrap around Merlin’s waist.
The spell was cast before he came to his room, there’s no going back, no chance for Arthur and Gwen and Merlin to change their minds.
“I’m sorry, love.”
He will die, but the child will live; Arthur will miss him, but he will go on, just like Camelot will go on, Arthur’s descendants leading them forth.
----
The small child is pushed towards him, but Merlin shakes his head, pushing the heir of Camelot towards his mother; Gwen smiles at him.
With each beat the little boy’s heart grows stronger, and with each beat, Merlin’s own heart grows weaker.
But Arthur’s smiling, looking at the small boy that is his son with awe and admiration, and Merlin smiles. It’s all been worth it.
---
They bury Merlin in the Royal Graveyard, next to where Arthur will be laid when he dies.
Arthur and Gwen and Lancelot bring Will to see Merlin at least once a month from the time he’s five and old enough to understand; Will adds his small treasures to the rest of the offerings at Merlin’s grave, gifts from the people in thanks for Will and the happiness that has filled Camelot once again because of him.
---
Sometimes, late at night when the castle is quiet, and Will’s sleeping soundly and Gwen’s wrapped up tightly in the of safety Lancelot’s arms, Arthur sneaks out of his room, disappearing to his own quiet place.
Sometimes he just sits at Merlin’s grave, other times he talks about his memories, and other times, what he does most often, is sit at Merlin’s grave and cry.
Because all those years ago Arthur knew what Merlin was getting into and he didn’t try to stop him.