Fic: Anything Secret
Fandom: Merlin (BBC)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Summary:
The hardest thing, Merlin decides, is not to keep the magic secret.
It is to keep anything secret at all.
-------------
Arthur rubs the back of his neck as he gazes out the window. "Sometimes, Merlin..."
Merlin tenses beside him, looking down at the young woman being brought out by the guards.
Sighing, Arthur turns to his manservant. "In your village, Merlin, in Ealdor - was it known? That sorcery is punished, is eliminated in Camelot?"
Merlin glances quickly at him. "Sire?"
Arthur has already turned back to watch the execution. "I only wonder..."
And Merlin, being Merlin, finds himself distracting the both of them by telling Arthur of the time his own king was infuriated by the threat and prophecy an enemy sorcerer had lain on his head. Merlin tells Arthur of how the king sent out a decree for all newborn daughters to be drowned - "No," Arthur gasps, horrified - and of how the people of the kingdom had joined together against the king and his decree.
By the time they look back to the courtyard, the crowd has dispersed and the execution has long since passed.
Arthur is quiet but lost in thought and Merlin wonders how he could have shared that history - that history the villagers had always attempted to quiet and forget - with this new prince he serves.
And as Arthur turns away from the window, grudgingly patting Merlin on the shoulders, Merlin busies his hands with fixing Arthur's bed, so he doesn't have to think about anything at all.
Gwen laughs and pokes him teasingly. "Oh, come off it, Merlin - you can tell me!"
Merlin shakes his head, grinning abashedly. "No, no--no," he says, bursting into embarrassing half-giggles when Gwen pokes him in particularly ticklish areas.
Later, when Arthur asks the same question after insulting Merlin's ability to serve as a good manservant and challenging his intellect, Merlin actually answers.
To his horror, "Er - one, I suppose," slips from his lips and Arthur chokes on a laugh.
"One? You suppose?"
Merlin gapes at him, astonished at the fact that he told, and as Arthur's choking turns to full-on hearty laughs, he feels more like an idiot than ever.
Still, when Arthur asks who she was, he answers, "Not sure, really - it was dark and...and I'm not even sure it was a she."
He sighs. "Arthur, you don't want to be rolling on the floor like that, there are rats," he says, but Arthur doesn't listen, and Merlin is glad at least one of them can find so much enjoyment at his utter inability to keep his mouth shut.
"Tell me," Arthur says when a passing fever has gripped him tightly, sweat dripping from his brow, "tell me about that friend of yours."
Carefully setting down the meal prepared by Gaius, Merlin looks at him curiously. "My friend?"
Arthur nods, though it obviously pains him to do so. "Your sorcerer friend. Will."
Merlin is surprised. He'd thought Arthur wanted to forget about Will, about the magic he'd supposedly hidden from him. "I--there's not much to tell. Will - Will lived a simple life. He came from a home of five children, and he'd always sneak out because it was so crowded. I remember we went down to search for wild horses - it was stupid, really, but he always wanted to be a rider."
And Merlin carefully feeds Arthur while telling him of Will and his smile, a smile he rarely saw after his father's death, and which meant so much to Merlin because it meant he was doing something right, finally, to bring that joy back to his friend.
Arthur listens with the attention of the fever-stricken, desperate for distraction from his throbbing headache and chills. "You loved him, then?"
Merlin stares at him, knowing, knowing that Arthur means it purely in the platonic sense, but suddenly wondering if he loved him in a way more than that, even.
"I did," he finally answers, a small grin on his face as he meets Arthur's eyes. And inside, Merlin knows that he didn't, not in the way that means more.
Arthur's eyes unfocus and then focus, sharply, on Merlin. He nods. "I understand."
Merlin takes his leave for a few hours, then, after checking the latch on the window and blowing out the candles.
It doesn't hit him until he's reached the end of the corridor that he has never spoken of Will, not since after his death, to anyone.
Merlin makes a mistake that shows him just how different Arthur is.
It may be because of all the time spent with Arthur, or because Merlin has become over-confident, but when a knight makes some remark or other about Merlin's duties, Merlin retorts half-jokingly, half-angrily.
He doesn't expect, of course, to be slammed suddenly into a wall, gauntlet shoved hard against his throat.
Merlin has only a few moments to realise that, yes, he made rather a stupid judgment on that one, when the knight is swung roughly away from Merlin and he can finally breathe again.
"Sir Cavor," says an annoyed voice Merlin would recognise anywhere, "I believe you have more important duties to see to than manhandling my servant."
The knight simply stands there, glaring at Merlin and rubbing the part of his arm the prince grabbed.
With a sound close to a snarl, Arthur strides toward the knight. "Sir Cavor," he repeats, voice low, "that was your warning. I do not take kindly to my servants being abused by the very knights who have sworn loyalty to me."
As the knight finally leaves their area, Merlin looks at Arthur with surprise and a bit of awe. "Thank you, Arthur--"
"Be quiet, Merlin," he snaps, "whatever you did, you probably deserved it."
But Arthur guides Merlin to his room anyway, where his face tightens at the sight of the bruises beginning to form on his neck.
"You idiot," Arthur says, but his voice is softer than when he normally insults him, and the hand adding salve to the bruise is slightly trembling with anger.
"When I was younger," Arthur begins, "I had another manservant."
Merlin looks at him through half-lidded eyes. It is late - or, rather, early - but Arthur has been in an oddly reflective mood and, of course, Merlin must accompany the prince during such reflective moments, regardless of whether they happen midday or at three hours into the new morning.
Arthur continues, "I never knew him well, but he was always kind to me. Always fetching this or that, making sure I was warm at night and providing food even when punished by my father."
Merlin nods, unable to prevent his heavy head from resting on his drawn knees.
"It wasn't until the moment before the announcement of his execution that I discovered he was a sorcerer."
Merlin's head shoots up at this, eyes wide and staring.
Arthur, however, ignores this. "He was so broken. So broken, with a family to care for and no one to turn to for help.
I let him go. Do you hear me, Merlin?" he asks roughly, taking hold of Merlin's arm and gripping hard. "I let him go."
His intense, wordless gaze meets the startled, awakening eyes of his manservant.
Merlin is speechless and terrified, unsure of what to do and unable to do anything.
"Do you hear me, you infuriating, stupid..." Arthur leans in closer, until he is gripping both Merlin's arms and his face is inches away from Merlin's.
"Do you really not think I would do so much more for you?"
Merlin, viciously blinking away tears that rise, unbidden, is silent. But the silence between them now is tense with discovery, with the end of the secrets that have always been the only reason for the remaining distance, the separation.
One tear - half a tear - falls quickly from the corner of Merlin's eye and then the silence is broken by the sudden tumbling of two bodies and the soft, harsh, sweet words that finally follow.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Summary:
The hardest thing, Merlin decides, is not to keep the magic secret.
It is to keep anything secret at all.
-------------
Arthur rubs the back of his neck as he gazes out the window. "Sometimes, Merlin..."
Merlin tenses beside him, looking down at the young woman being brought out by the guards.
Sighing, Arthur turns to his manservant. "In your village, Merlin, in Ealdor - was it known? That sorcery is punished, is eliminated in Camelot?"
Merlin glances quickly at him. "Sire?"
Arthur has already turned back to watch the execution. "I only wonder..."
And Merlin, being Merlin, finds himself distracting the both of them by telling Arthur of the time his own king was infuriated by the threat and prophecy an enemy sorcerer had lain on his head. Merlin tells Arthur of how the king sent out a decree for all newborn daughters to be drowned - "No," Arthur gasps, horrified - and of how the people of the kingdom had joined together against the king and his decree.
By the time they look back to the courtyard, the crowd has dispersed and the execution has long since passed.
Arthur is quiet but lost in thought and Merlin wonders how he could have shared that history - that history the villagers had always attempted to quiet and forget - with this new prince he serves.
And as Arthur turns away from the window, grudgingly patting Merlin on the shoulders, Merlin busies his hands with fixing Arthur's bed, so he doesn't have to think about anything at all.
Gwen laughs and pokes him teasingly. "Oh, come off it, Merlin - you can tell me!"
Merlin shakes his head, grinning abashedly. "No, no--no," he says, bursting into embarrassing half-giggles when Gwen pokes him in particularly ticklish areas.
Later, when Arthur asks the same question after insulting Merlin's ability to serve as a good manservant and challenging his intellect, Merlin actually answers.
To his horror, "Er - one, I suppose," slips from his lips and Arthur chokes on a laugh.
"One? You suppose?"
Merlin gapes at him, astonished at the fact that he told, and as Arthur's choking turns to full-on hearty laughs, he feels more like an idiot than ever.
Still, when Arthur asks who she was, he answers, "Not sure, really - it was dark and...and I'm not even sure it was a she."
He sighs. "Arthur, you don't want to be rolling on the floor like that, there are rats," he says, but Arthur doesn't listen, and Merlin is glad at least one of them can find so much enjoyment at his utter inability to keep his mouth shut.
"Tell me," Arthur says when a passing fever has gripped him tightly, sweat dripping from his brow, "tell me about that friend of yours."
Carefully setting down the meal prepared by Gaius, Merlin looks at him curiously. "My friend?"
Arthur nods, though it obviously pains him to do so. "Your sorcerer friend. Will."
Merlin is surprised. He'd thought Arthur wanted to forget about Will, about the magic he'd supposedly hidden from him. "I--there's not much to tell. Will - Will lived a simple life. He came from a home of five children, and he'd always sneak out because it was so crowded. I remember we went down to search for wild horses - it was stupid, really, but he always wanted to be a rider."
And Merlin carefully feeds Arthur while telling him of Will and his smile, a smile he rarely saw after his father's death, and which meant so much to Merlin because it meant he was doing something right, finally, to bring that joy back to his friend.
Arthur listens with the attention of the fever-stricken, desperate for distraction from his throbbing headache and chills. "You loved him, then?"
Merlin stares at him, knowing, knowing that Arthur means it purely in the platonic sense, but suddenly wondering if he loved him in a way more than that, even.
"I did," he finally answers, a small grin on his face as he meets Arthur's eyes. And inside, Merlin knows that he didn't, not in the way that means more.
Arthur's eyes unfocus and then focus, sharply, on Merlin. He nods. "I understand."
Merlin takes his leave for a few hours, then, after checking the latch on the window and blowing out the candles.
It doesn't hit him until he's reached the end of the corridor that he has never spoken of Will, not since after his death, to anyone.
Merlin makes a mistake that shows him just how different Arthur is.
It may be because of all the time spent with Arthur, or because Merlin has become over-confident, but when a knight makes some remark or other about Merlin's duties, Merlin retorts half-jokingly, half-angrily.
He doesn't expect, of course, to be slammed suddenly into a wall, gauntlet shoved hard against his throat.
Merlin has only a few moments to realise that, yes, he made rather a stupid judgment on that one, when the knight is swung roughly away from Merlin and he can finally breathe again.
"Sir Cavor," says an annoyed voice Merlin would recognise anywhere, "I believe you have more important duties to see to than manhandling my servant."
The knight simply stands there, glaring at Merlin and rubbing the part of his arm the prince grabbed.
With a sound close to a snarl, Arthur strides toward the knight. "Sir Cavor," he repeats, voice low, "that was your warning. I do not take kindly to my servants being abused by the very knights who have sworn loyalty to me."
As the knight finally leaves their area, Merlin looks at Arthur with surprise and a bit of awe. "Thank you, Arthur--"
"Be quiet, Merlin," he snaps, "whatever you did, you probably deserved it."
But Arthur guides Merlin to his room anyway, where his face tightens at the sight of the bruises beginning to form on his neck.
"You idiot," Arthur says, but his voice is softer than when he normally insults him, and the hand adding salve to the bruise is slightly trembling with anger.
"When I was younger," Arthur begins, "I had another manservant."
Merlin looks at him through half-lidded eyes. It is late - or, rather, early - but Arthur has been in an oddly reflective mood and, of course, Merlin must accompany the prince during such reflective moments, regardless of whether they happen midday or at three hours into the new morning.
Arthur continues, "I never knew him well, but he was always kind to me. Always fetching this or that, making sure I was warm at night and providing food even when punished by my father."
Merlin nods, unable to prevent his heavy head from resting on his drawn knees.
"It wasn't until the moment before the announcement of his execution that I discovered he was a sorcerer."
Merlin's head shoots up at this, eyes wide and staring.
Arthur, however, ignores this. "He was so broken. So broken, with a family to care for and no one to turn to for help.
I let him go. Do you hear me, Merlin?" he asks roughly, taking hold of Merlin's arm and gripping hard. "I let him go."
His intense, wordless gaze meets the startled, awakening eyes of his manservant.
Merlin is speechless and terrified, unsure of what to do and unable to do anything.
"Do you hear me, you infuriating, stupid..." Arthur leans in closer, until he is gripping both Merlin's arms and his face is inches away from Merlin's.
"Do you really not think I would do so much more for you?"
Merlin, viciously blinking away tears that rise, unbidden, is silent. But the silence between them now is tense with discovery, with the end of the secrets that have always been the only reason for the remaining distance, the separation.
One tear - half a tear - falls quickly from the corner of Merlin's eye and then the silence is broken by the sudden tumbling of two bodies and the soft, harsh, sweet words that finally follow.