Fic: Enough to Feel Your Breath on Mine (4/4)
Title: Enough to Feel Your Breath on Mine
Fandom: Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Merlin/Freya
Length: 39k total
Summary: Merlin and Arthur wake up in the middle of a board meeting in the twenty-first century when they were in Camelot just moments before. Now they’re lost in a world they don’t understand, where Merlin is the son of the company owner and Arthur is the employee. Merlin’s lost his magic, Arthur doesn’t know how to not be a king, but somehow the world keeps turning.
Author's Notes: Written for paperlegends Takes place mid season 4. Time travel from canon to modern day and back.
Previous part | Masterpost
Merlin watched in despair as their - Arthur’s - bedroom door closed with Arthur on one side and himself on the other. It had been so long since they’d spent a night apart that Merlin felt as if a physical link had been cut between them. He felt the separation as acutely as the loss of a limb. Merlin stood staring at the closed bedroom door for a long time before he accepted that the door was not going to open again.
Merlin trudged forward until he rested his fingertips against the wood of the door, fancying that he could feel Arthur’s warmth just on the other side. With a quiet hiccupping sob, Merlin rested his forehead against the door, desperately wishing the situation could have gone better.
It was the middle of the night by the time Merlin tore himself from Arthur’s bedroom door to enter his own bedroom. Merlin flicked on the light and gazed at the neatly made bed and the empty tabletops. Merlin hadn’t realized how much of his stuff had been moved to Arthur’s room until that very moment. For the first time it hit Merlin just how much his life had become entwined with Arthur’s.
Without bothering to undress, Merlin climbed on to his bed and curled up on top of the covers where he fell into a fitful sleep, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.
--
The next morning, Merlin woke with the dawn. He dragged himself out of bed to make breakfast for Arthur, hoping the extra effort would soften him up. Arthur always did like a good breakfast in the mornings.
When Arthur did emerge from his bedroom, Merlin felt a pang go through him when he saw the bags under Arthur’s eyes and the weariness of his gait.
“I made breakfast,” Merlin said, waving a piece of toast enticingly.
Arthur didn’t even look at Merlin, choosing instead to go straight to the bathroom, door shutting quietly behind him.
Merlin slowly lowered the toast, staring at it forlornly, half wishing Arthur had slammed the door so Merlin would know where his mind was at.
Merlin set out two plates and piled Arthur’s with eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, and tomatoes. He was halfway through scooping up the eggs when he realized he had no appetite. With a sigh, Merlin set the pan back down on the stove and picked up his piece of toast, nibbling halfheartedly.
Merlin stood waiting for Arthur to reemerge, trying to get some sense of comfort from the sounds of running water and the knowledge that at least Arthur was still going about his day.
When Arthur finally exited the bathroom, Merlin called his name softly. Arthur didn’t look at him, but Merlin knew he was listening from the tensing on his shoulders.
“I’m going to head into the office. Feel free to take as much time off as you want,” Merlin said quietly. Merlin made an aborted movement towards Arthur, instinctively moving to kiss him on the cheek like he always did if he left the flat without Arthur.
Embarrassed, Merlin grabbed his coat and hurried to the door. As he was stepping out, he heard Arthur’s muttered response of “I don’t need days off, Merlin.”
Flooded with relief that Arthur wouldn’t be running off, Merlin shut the door behind him and took off at a brisk walk for work, needing the fresh air to clear his head.
--
Arthur finally turned toward the kitchen after the door clicked shut. He gazed at the still warm plate of breakfast Merlin made and the single half-eaten piece of toast and mentally reprimanded himself for the warmth that spread through his chest. He wasn’t supposed to care what Merlin did for him. It shouldn’t matter after Merlin’s betrayal. It was a betrayal that cut too deep. Despite it all, Arthur still couldn’t curb the urge to wrap Merlin in his arms and kiss the pain away upon hearing the raw hurt in his voice when Arthur wouldn’t look at him. In truth, Arthur couldn’t bring himself to look at Merlin. It hurt too much. And if he did, Arthur knew any resolve he had would crumble.
As Arthur ate his breakfast, his gaze kept drifting to the empty seat across the table and the barely eaten toast. Arthur could hardly remember what it was like to have breakfast without Merlin chattering at him from across the table. When Arthur noticed the rest of the untouched food, he felt a pang of concern go through him as he realized Merlin hadn’t eaten anything but for a few bites of toast.
During the car ride to the office, Arthur asked the driver to stop at a café briefly, where he dashed in and bought Merlin a chocolate croissant and a cup of ridiculously sweet coffee with whip cream. When he returned to the car, Arthur got a wink from the driver as he looked pointedly at the food in Arthur’s hand.
“He dash off too early this morning?” the driver asked as he pulled back on the road.
“Something like that,” Arthur replied quietly, smiling weakly, knowing it didn’t reach his eyes. Thankfully, the driver didn’t ask more.
When Arthur arrived at the office, he knocked on Freya’s door instead going to Merlin’s. “Freya?”
“Arthur!” Freya said, looking at Arthur in surprise. “What is it?”
“Can you put these on Merlin’s desk for me?” Arthur asked, holding out the croissant and coffee.
Freya’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Me? Why don’t you give it to him when he comes in?”
“He hasn’t come in yet?” Arthur asked, feeling worry sweep through him.
“No…” Freya peered at Arthur carefully. “Have you two had a fight?” Freya asked gently.
Arthur avoided Freya’s gaze. “I’ll go set these down on his desk then.”
“No, Arthur, wait. You know you can talk to me if something’s wrong, don’t you?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Arthur replied, shooting Freya a weak smile.
“Then is everything okay?”
“It’s complicated,” was Arthur’s only response before he hurried out of Freya’s office and into Merlin’s.
--
When Merlin arrived at work, he hurried to his office, hesitating for a beat by Arthur’s desk, but continued on when Arthur made no gesture of acknowledgement. Merlin collapsed in his chair, barely managing to avoid dumping his things on top of the croissant and coffee.
Puzzled, Merlin stared at the food, taking a small sip of the coffee and closing his eyes in bliss. Quickly, Merlin went to Freya’s office.
“Thanks for the coffee and the croissant,” Merlin said, smiling gratefully at Freya.
“You’re thanking the wrong person, I’m afraid,” Freya replied, nodding in the direction of Arthur’s desk.
Merlin spun around to stare in the direction Freya indicated, eyes practically boring a hole through the wall between Freya’s office and the rest of the floor as if he could see Arthur.
“Arthur brought it?” Merlin whispered.
“He did,” Freya said. As Merlin stared off into space, lost in thought, Freya came around her desk to stand beside him. “What happened?” she asked softly.
“Keeping secrets,” Merlin said ruefully, sending Freya a sad smile.
“What was he keeping from you?”
Merlin gave a hollow laugh. “Nothing. It was my fault.” Then a beat later, more quietly, “It’s always my fault.”
Merlin could practically feel it when Freya’s protective instincts rose to the surface. She wrapped an arm around Merlin and told him sternly, “It’s not always your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong. If he’s hurting you, you need to tell me, Merlin.”
Merlin tried to shrug Freya off, regretting saying anything at all. He didn’t want people to think badly of Arthur. But he couldn’t tell the truth to clear his name. “Look, Freya,” Merlin said exasperatedly. “It’s not how it sounded. It was my fault this time, okay? I screwed up because I kept something big from Arthur for a long time. He has every right to be mad. I just… don’t know if he’ll come around.”
Freya gave Merlin a sympathetic squeeze. “He will,” she promised.
“How can you know that?” Merlin asked forlornly.
“Because he loves you,” she said simply. “Besides, who could stay mad at that face?” Freya teased, poking Merlin’s cheek playfully.
Merlin gave a short laugh as he batted Freya’s finger away. Merlin looked up and out of Freya’s office door. He froze and felt his stomach drop when he met Arthur’s hurt gaze on the other side of the office where Arthur was standing at the copy machine with a direct line of sight into Freya’s open office.
Merlin wanted to rush to him and tell him it wasn’t what it looked like. But what could he say at this point that would alleviate the pain? Arthur turned away first, snatching the papers from the copier and hurrying back to his desk.
Merlin sighed and forced himself to return to his office.
--
Merlin spent the next month gazing listlessly at his paperwork and jumping every time he thought he heard Arthur’s voice. Freya ended up doing most of his work for him.
Merlin was tired of the pitying glances he got from his employees. Gone were the cooing sounds the women made as he and Arthur passed, and in their place were comforting pats on the arm and lowered voices as he approached.
Gwaine even toned down his blatant flirting with anything that moved when Merlin was around. Gwen tended to pat his cheek and force feed him whenever she saw him. Merlin knew he didn’t look great. He’d stopped looking at himself in the mirror. He didn’t know what he would do with himself if Arthur didn’t forgive him. And it was a little disturbing to look in the mirror and not recognize the man staring back at you.
Merlin knew his father was worried, he’d even called Will several times and asked him to visit Merlin. Will had shown up on his doorstep after the third phone call and stayed for a few days, trying to cheer Merlin up. Unfortunately, it did little to help. The only good that came from the visit was the fact that he and Freya seemed to hit it off right away. Merlin had high hopes for the two of them even if his hopes for his own happiness seemed to shrink with each passing day.
--
Arthur didn’t feel much better than Merlin. He spent his days sneaking glances at Merlin, worried about how he was doing while not wanting to get involved. He went back to putting off his work and no one would scold him over it.
He went back to being a prat around the office, snapping at co-workers and not talking whenever anyone tried to speak to him. It didn’t deter anyone though. In fact, they all seemed even more sympathetic, offering him biscuits and a sympathetic ear if he ever needed one.
Everyone tended to look at Arthur like he lost the best thing that would ever happen to him. The worst thing was, Arthur couldn’t help but be afraid that they were right.
--
"Mr. Emrys wants to see you," Freya whispered as she passed Arthur's desk.
"What?" Arthur squeaked. He'd never had to talk to Merlin's father alone before. Especially not after finding out that he was the dragonlord he and Merlin had been searching for once upon a time.
"Yes, and you'd better hurry," she told him. "He doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Arthur gulped and set off for Merlin's father's office. He had no idea what Balinor Emrys could possibly want. What if he wanted to fire him for breaking Merlin's heart? Arthur didn't want to be fired! Besides, he still liked being close to Merlin, even if he couldn't quite forgive and forget.
Arthur knocked hesitantly on the door marked CEO.
"Enter."
Arthur braced himself and stepped into the room. "Mr. Emrys," Arthur said as steadily as he could. "How can I help you?"
"It's simple really," Balinor replied, sending Arthur an exasperated glance. "Fix my son."
"Excuse me?" Arthur stammered.
"Fix my son," Balinor repeated. "Merlin. Your best friend. The man you've clearly been in love with for far too long."
"Mr. Emrys, I don't think you understand - " Arthur began.
"No, I don't," Balinor said. "Which is why I told you to fix it rather than telling you how to fix it. I don't know which one of you messed up, but I'm telling you because my son will just mutter about how it's all his fault and that he deserves it."
Arthur was silent.
"Judging by your lack of protest, I'm assuming you are the one who needs to do the fixing?"
"We both did and said some things we regret, sir," Arthur said slowly. "But it's not something that can be fixed as easily as you're suggesting."
"I think you both are over-complicating the situation," Balinor said matter of factly. "I've seen the puppy dog looks you send each other when the other isn't looking. It seems to me that you both miss the other but are both too proud to admit it."
"I'll do my best, sir," Arthur said, suppressing a sigh, knowing he couldn't explain anything without sounding like a loon.
"That's what I like to hear," Balinor said, grinning at Arthur in a way so reminiscent of Merlin Arthur had to clench his fists to stop from reaching up to rub at the physical pain in his chest.
--
"Merlin?" Arthur called when the front door opened.
"Arthur?" Merlin said, voice so full of hope it made Arthur's heart hurt. He really hadn't realized how much Merlin had been hurting over the past month.
"Can I talk to you?"
Merlin came tripping into the room in two seconds flat. "What is it?" Merlin asked hopefully, eyes darting toward Arthur to meet his eyes briefly, then quickly sliding away, as if afraid of what he might find.
"I spoke to your father today."
Merlin blinked at Arthur owlishly. "Okay..."
"He told me, and I quote, 'fix my son.'"
To Arthur's great amusement, Merlin's face and neck flushed bright red. Arthur couldn't recall ever seeing Merlin turn that shade of red in all the time he'd known him.
"He had no right to do that," Merlin said flatly.
"No, I suppose not," Arthur said, waiting for Merlin's response.
"Don't listen to my father," Merlin said quietly, shoulders slumped in defeat, but eyes flashing in anger all the while. "He had no right to say that to you. No right to abuse the power he has as your boss."
Arthur didn't reply. The longer Arthur remained silent, the more worked up Merlin got. "My father thinks he can say things like that and it won't matter. He knows that when he tells someone to do something, they do it because they're terrified of losing their jobs. So he rarely does things like that! He knew exactly what he was doing when he told you to 'fix me'," Merlin snapped. "He has absolutely no right to interfere in my relationships. I promise you your job is safe, Arthur. So don't listen to my father."
Arthur chuckled to himself. Same Merlin. The one who cared about equality, didn't care about social status, and apparently still put Arthur above everyone else, including his own newly found father. Before he really knew what he was doing, Arthur stepped forward, caught Merlin's flailing arm, and pulled him close. As Merlin stuttered to a halt, Arthur kissed him, drowning in the sensation of Merlin's lips against his for the first time in a month.
Arthur fought back a smile as he felt Merlin's eyes flutter shut by the light brush of Merlin's eyelashes against his cheek and felt Merlin sigh softly against Arthur's mouth, melting slightly in Arthur's arms. Just as Arthur relaxed fully into the kiss, Merlin shoved him away, making Arthur stumble on to the couch in hurt confusion.
"Arthur," Merlin whispered, avoiding Arthur's gaze.
"What's wrong?" Arthur asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.
Merlin laughed hollowly. "I guess I know why you never slept with any of the serving girls in Camelot."
Arthur was completely bewildered. "What the hell are you on about?"
"They're obligated to please you, just like how you feel obligated to 'fix' me just because my father asked it. I don't want that, Arthur."
Merlin looked so sad and broken that Arthur found himself reaching for Merlin's hands before his mind registered he was doing it.
"Merlin," Arthur murmured. "Look at me."
Merlin met Arthur's gaze reluctantly.
"That's not why I'm doing this. I promise," Arthur said softly. "I've wanted you back for ages. But I just haven't been able to swallow my pride and tell you that."
"How do I know you're not just saying that?" Merlin asked, shoulders sagging wearily.
"You just have to trust me," Arthur said. "You've always been good at that. Why stop now?"
"Because things are different now."
"Has that made you stop trusting me?" Arthur asked, hurt.
"No!" Merlin exclaimed. "Never!"
"So trust me on this," Arthur said, peering into Merlin's face. "Do you really think I would lie to you to curry favor?"
"No," Merlin admitted.
"Exactly. So trust me when I say that I do still love you."
"Okay," Merlin whispered. "Okay."
Arthur stood slowly and edged closer to Merlin, pressing close to him and nudging Merlin's cheek with his nose, silently asking permission to steal another kiss. Merlin smiled shyly and leaned forward, capturing Arthur's lips with his own.
“Now that’s more like it,” Arthur murmured against Merlin’s lips.
--
That night, after a rather enthusiastic bout of make-up sex, Arthur pulled Merlin into his arms and asked, “Will you show me your magic?”
Merlin’s entire face lit up as he nodded vigorously. Without giving any thought to what he would show Arthur, Merlin just let his magic decide, and when he opened his palm, a glowing blue orb appeared over his hand.
Merlin peered at Arthur’s face nervously, giddy with excitement over showing Arthur his magic, but feeling wary at the look of shock on Arthur’s face. “Arthur?” he whispered.
“It was you,” Arthur murmured.
Merlin looked between the blue orb and Arthur in confusion. “Excuse me?”
Arthur finally tore his eyes away from the orb of light and met Merlin’s gaze. Merlin was shocked to see tears standing in Arthur’s eyes. “It was you,” Arthur repeated. “All those years ago, when I went to find the Mortaeus flower for you, a glowing blue orb guided me out of the caves. It’s always been you, hasn’t it, Merlin?”
Merlin stared at the orb floating over his palm in wonder, and said, “Gaius told me I was muttering in my sleep and that I was doing some kind of spell. I had no idea.”
“God, Merlin,” Arthur said, with a half laugh, half sob. “Even while you had no idea what you were doing. Even while you were dying, you were protecting me. How could I ever have doubted you?”
Merlin smiled and leaned further into Arthur’s embrace. “It doesn’t matter. As long as you know now that all of this,” Merlin gestured a bit with the orb, “has been for you. That’s enough for me.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Arthur murmured into Merlin’s hair. “And I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“I have been for years,” Merlin whispered back. “You’ve just been too much of a prat to see it.”
Arthur laughed. “Don’t ever change, Merlin. I want you to always be you. Insolent, cheeky, and impossibly endearing.”
Merlin didn’t respond, just snuggled closer to Arthur and sighed in contentment.
“Can I hold it?” Arthur asked tentatively.
Merlin’s smile widened as he took Arthur’s hand in his own and held it, palm up, before passing the orb to Arthur. Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand tightly as he stared at the glowing ball of light with childlike awe. “It’s beautiful,” he breathed.
“I know,” Merlin simply said, keeping hold of Arthur’s hand with the intention of never letting go.
--
“Have you heard of Arthurian legend?” Merlin asked suddenly.
“A few mentions, I think,” Arthur replied, keeping his eyes glued to the TV.
“Didn’t you ever wonder what it was?”
“Some kind of legend, I assume,” Arthur said with a shrug.
“It’s about you,” Merlin blurted out.
“What?” Arthur exclaimed, head snapping around to stare at Merlin incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”
Merlin hopped up off the couch from where he was curled into Arthur’s side. “I’m very serious, Arthur. Come look.”
Arthur followed wordlessly as Merlin walked off to his old bedroom. Merlin pulled several books off one of the shelves tucked away in a corner of the room and presented them to Arthur. “Just skim some of them,” Merlin said softly. “It’s about you. And me. And everyone we once knew.”
Arthur looked at Merlin skeptically but indulged him, sitting down at the desk to leaf through the texts. Before he knew it, several hours had passed and he was deeply engrossed in stories about the life he once lived. They were extremely inaccurate accounts, but the threads of truth in each story were unmistakable.
“Merlin,” Arthur whispered in awe, lifting his head to meet Merlin’s nervous gaze. “Are these really about us?”
Merlin nodded tentatively. “That was us. And we’re still us now, hundreds of years in the future.”
“How is that possible?” Arthur asked.
“We’ve been… reborn,” Merlin replied. “I can’t explain how I know, but I can feel that we’re still the same people, just like everyone around us.”
“So we’re still in a version of Camelot?” Arthur asked, quirking a smile.
“In a way, yes,” Merlin said. “Have you got to the end yet?”
“Not quite. There’s all this stuff about Gwen and Lancelot which I really should’ve expected.”
“You’re not mad?”
“About them?” Arthur asked. “No. It’s really not surprising at all. It was always clear who Gwen’s first choice was, and it certainly wasn’t me.”
“But you stayed with her anyway,” Merlin said.
“I did,” Arthur admitted. “It got to a point where neither of us knew how to end it. I’d defied my father for her, for god’s sake.”
“Exactly,” Merlin murmured, not looking at Arthur.
“Merlin,” Arthur said softly, abandoning the books to put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “It’s always been you. Even before I fully realized it. I do care for Gwen. But in her, I see the Queen I know she can be. Any infatuation I once had with her burned out long ago.”
Merlin offered Arthur a small smile. “Really?”
“Really,” Arthur said firmly, brushing a light kiss over Merlin’s lips.
“Keep reading,” Merlin said, gesturing to the books.
Arthur kept reading.
--
“A golden age?” Arthur murmured, voice gone soft in wonder.
“Your golden age,” Merlin replied. Arthur could hear the smile in his voice.
“Our golden age,” Arthur corrected, smiling brilliantly at Merlin.
“Our golden age,” Merlin repeated, eyes soft with affection.
--
“Well,” Arthur said upon closing the final text. “It looks like my death is pretty set in stone.”
Merlin bit his lip so hard he broke the skin. “I won’t let that happen,” Merlin choked out.
Arthur looked up, eyes softening at the tortured look in Merlin’s eyes. He grabbed a tissue and sat down beside Merlin on the bed, dabbing at the blood that gathered on Merlin’s bottom lip.
“When did you find out?” Arthur asked softly, instinctively knowing that Merlin had been torturing himself with this information for years.
“Since we saved Mordred from being executed,” Merlin said, not daring to look Arthur in the eye. “I was the one who helped him in the courtyard, Arthur. I tried to stay away when you were getting him out from the dungeons, but I couldn’t. It’s all my fault.” Merlin buried his face in his hands.
“No, Merlin,” Arthur said, voice impossibly tender, gently tugging Merlin’s hands away from his face. “I wouldn’t have you commit murder for my sake.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Merlin muttered.
Arthur’s tugging became more urgent. “What?” he asked sharply. “What do you mean it wouldn’t be the first time? Tell me, Merlin!”
“Protecting you isn’t exactly like prancing through a field of daisies,” Merlin snorted. “It’s not always easy.”
“Who have you killed, Merlin?” Arthur demanded.
“Do you want a list?” Merlin snapped.
“Yes!”
Merlin fell silent.
“Tell me, Merlin,” Arthur half pleaded. “Tell me everything.”
“Everything?” Merlin said hollowly.
“From the beginning. Tell me about your magic. About everything I’ve missed over the years.”
And Merlin did.
By the end of the story, Arthur had drawn Merlin into his arms, holding him tight, as if trying to hold together an armful of broken pieces. “Why did you do it?”
“Because you’re worth it,” Merlin simply said.
“Because of the prophecy?”
“No,” Merlin said softly. “Because you’re you.”
--
“Do you think we’ll ever get back, Merlin?”
Merlin didn’t speak for several long moments. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I’m still trying, Arthur. But it’s not easy with nothing to work off of.”
“Just… keep trying, won’t you?” Arthur asked quietly.
Merlin nodded and sent Arthur a weary smile.
--
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted when he arrived home to find Merlin sprawled on the floor, not moving.
Arthur ran to Merlin and fell to the floor beside him, gathering the limp body in his arms and shaking it.
“Merlin, please wake up,” Arthur begged. He grabbed Merlin’s wrist and felt for a pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when he found one.
“Merlin,” Arthur whispered. “I need you. Please wake up.” Arthur pressed his forehead to Merlin’s and stayed like that for so long, Arthur lost track of time. When he finally felt Merlin stirring, Arthur pulled back to better study Merlin’s face.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked hopefully.
Merlin groaned and raised a hand to his head. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at Arthur blearily. “Arthur? What happened?” he croaked.
“Thank god,” Arthur breathed, wrapping Merlin in such a tight embrace that he had to choke out, “Can’t. Breathe,” before Arthur would let go.
“Merlin, what were you doing?” Arthur asked, after he helped Merlin on to the bed. “I came home and just found you lying on the floor. I thought you were dead,” Arthur said, the last word coming out as a sob.
“I was…” Merlin trailed off, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead in an effort to remember. “I was trying to find a way back to Camelot,” Merlin finally admitted. “I found a spell in a book that I thought might work. I think it kind of got away from me. And the next thing I knew, you were there and I don’t really know what happened in between.”
“That’s it,” Arthur said firmly. “No more spells to send us back to Camelot.”
“But, Arthur,” Merlin protested. “I thought you wanted to go back.”
“I do,” Arthur said. “Of course I do. But it’s not worth losing you.”
“I can do it, Arthur. I know I can. I just haven’t found the right spell yet.”
“Yes, and by the time you do, you’ll probably be dead.”
“Have some faith in me,” Merlin said, sounding hurt.
“Merlin, I have all the faith in the world in you,” Arthur said soothingly. “But I don’t want you exhausting yourself over this and hurting yourself somehow. I was terrified when I walked in the door today. I know you’re doing this for my sake. So please. Stop. For me. I’d rather stay here for the rest of my life than lose you and go back to Camelot alone.”
“Arthur…”
“No, Merlin. Promise me.”
Merlin studied Arthur carefully, seeing the genuine fear in Arthur’s eyes. “Okay,” he finally said softly. “I promise.”
--
They never did get back to Camelot in that lifetime. But somehow that was okay. In the end, it didn’t matter that they weren’t in their Camelot. They had a life in the twenty-first century. One where they could be happy together. After a while, the exact place and time they were in stopped mattering so much.
--
Decades from the moment they fell into their future, Arthur and Merlin found themselves old and gray and living contentedly in a world they weren’t born into. Having never found a way back to their own time, Merlin was grateful to have defied the prophecy, in the least conventional way possible. Despite having the power to defy destiny, Merlin still couldn’t fight against the flow of time, aging as any ordinary man does.
Old age eventually claimed Merlin, coaxing him from the mortal world in his sleep. Arthur, having lost his anchor to the twenty-first century upon Merlin’s death, easily followed Merlin as if being tugged by the hand. And so the pair slipped out of the world they were never meant to belong to just as they slipped in - together.
--
Arthur woke again to find himself sprawled on the floor, with Merlin’s familiar weight on top of him.
“Sire!” someone called.
Arthur froze. No one had called him that for decades. From his position on the ground, Arthur scrutinized the flagstones beneath his cheek. He’d walked on those same flagstones all his life. He’d know them anywhere. He was back in Camelot.
“Sire? Merlin?” came a voice from just above Arthur.
Arthur looked up past Merlin’s startled face to see Leon staring down at him. He felt a pang in his chest as he took in the at once familiar and foreign chainmail, struck by a sudden longing for the futuristic world he left behind.
Merlin quickly rolled off Arthur and stood up, dusting himself off shakily.
Leon offered Arthur’s a hand, asking in a hushed tone, “Are you feeling well, sire?”
“Fine,” Arthur whispered thickly, struggling to find his voice. Gratefully, Arthur took Leon’s hand, ignoring the flicker of surprise across Leon’s face, knowing that the him of Camelot would never have allowed himself to show weakness in public.
Arthur stood, quickly releasing Leon’s hand, brushing himself off and deliberately avoiding the council’s gaze.
“I think I shall retire for a bit. I’m feeling a bit unsteady from the fall,” Arthur said, lying through his teeth. Without waiting for a reply, he said awkwardly, “Attend me, Merlin,” and swept out from the council chambers , forcing himself not to look back to check if Merlin was following.
--
The doors to the King’s chambers clicked shut behind them.
“Merlin!” Arthur yelled in a whisper. “What the hell happened? The last thing I remember is getting into bed with you. In the twenty-first century. As an old man!”
“I know!” Merlin shot back, feeling shaken to the core. “I remember all that too. And - “ Merlin faltered for a moment, gnawing on his lip indecisively before continuing even more quietly. “I remember dying. I remember leaving my body behind, but still feeling your hand in mine,” he whispered.
Arthur’s jaw dropped in shock, but he recovered quickly, expression softening as he reached out to rub Merlin’s arms soothingly. “I’m right here,” Arthur murmured. “We’re both right here. Are you all right?”
Merlin nodded mutely, shooting Arthur a tight smile. Arthur’s gaze was softened with years of affection as he met Merlin’s tired eyes and folded him into his arms, offering what little comfort he could. Arthur didn’t let go until the minute tremors that ran down Merlin’s spine became fewer and farther between before they stopped entirely.
After the trembling stopped, Merlin pushed Arthur away gently and gave him a tired smile. “You should go back,” he said. “A king shouldn’t just walk out of a council meeting.”
“I don’t want to leave you here alone,” Arthur protested, tightening his arms around Merlin to prevent him pulling away.
Merlin shook his head with a small smile. “It’s fine. We have to get used to being who we used to be eventually. Might as well start now.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Arthur asked, peering at Merlin worriedly. “You can come with me.”
“I’m fine, Arthur. Don’t worry. I should straighten up your chambers anyway.”
Arthur pursed his lips, looking slightly uncomfortable at the thought of Merlin playing the role of servant again.
Merlin laughed a little. “Just go! I pick up after you around the house all the time anyway. I know you still love me.”
Arthur gave him a quick peck on the nose. “Come find me later,” Arthur said before pulling away. He paused with his hand on the door, turning back to find Merlin staring after him. “I do, you know,” Arthur said softly.
Merlin blinked in confusion. “Do what?”
“Love you,” Arthur replied, quirking a smile. “Don’t ever forget that.”
Merlin’s face melted into an affectionate smile. “I won’t.”
--
Arthur returned to the council chambers just as his councilors began filing out. The moment he appeared, everyone paused, looking to him expectantly for direction.
Arthur froze, completely blanking on how to properly address his council. “Shall we - ? Er, we shall reconvene tomorrow at the same time as today,” Arthur announced awkwardly, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when his councilors bowed their heads and left the council chambers.
Each councilors murmured, “I hope you are doing well, sire,” as they passed, dutifully waiting for a nod from Arthur before passing him to leave through the double doors.
Only Sir Leon, the last to leave, paused beside Arthur and asked, “How are you, sire?” in a way that Arthur believed to be genuine.
“I’m doing fine, Leon,” Arthur said politely, still trying to find his footing with court etiquette. Leon seemed satisfied with Arthur’s answer judging by the nod he gave Arthur. As Arthur turned to leave, Leon fell into step just behind him and followed up his previous question by asking, “And Merlin?”
Arthur’s step faltered briefly as he replied, “He’s fine as well.” For the first time, the chasm between his and Merlin’s status became apparent to Arthur. For the first time, Arthur saw the difference between them as an insurmountable gap, as the rest of the world did. Leon’s concern for Merlin’s well-being contrasted starkly with the rest of the castle’s lack of concern for a servant. Never before had he felt class differences as acutely as he did in that moment.
With a sinking feeling, he realized that he and Merlin couldn’t carry on as they had done in the future.
--
That night, Arthur returned to his chambers and found Merlin curled up on a chair, leafing through one of the battle strategy books he found so boring.
“Hi,” Merlin said brightly when he spotted Arthur. He set down the book and came toward Arthur, eyes soft with affection. Merlin paused uncertainly when Arthur backed away, shaking his head minutely. “What’s wrong?”
“Merlin…” Arthur said, avoiding Merlin’s gaze.
“What is it, Arthur?” Merlin asked, concern etched in his voice.
“Perhaps we should spend the night apart,” Arthur blurted out.
Arthur could practically feel the hurt in the silence that followed. Before Arthur had a chance to try and soften the blow, Merlin spoke again. “Oh,” he said simply.
Arthur looked up to find Merlin giving him a wobbly smile, uncertainty swimming in his eyes. “It’s probably for the best. What would the castle say if they knew?” Merlin said, clearly trying to put a reason to Arthur’s statement.
Arthur nodded weakly.
“Shall I undress you, sire?” Merlin asked hesitantly.
Arthur didn’t bother to correct Merlin’s way of addressing him, biting his tongue ease the guilt he was feeling. “That won’t be necessary,” Arthur replied.
Merlin nodded slowly. “I’ll see you in the morning then, sire,” Merlin said as formally as he could manage. As he passed Arthur on his way out the door, he brushed his hand against Arthur’s briefly and murmured, “I still love you too, you know.”
The moment the door swung shut behind Merlin, Arthur’s legs gave out from under him. It took all the will power he had to stop himself from running after Merlin.
They were master and servant; this was the way it was supposed to be, Arthur told himself firmly as he crawled into bed.
He still tossed and turned half the night, searching for a warmth beside him that he wouldn’t find.
--
Merlin arrived in Arthur’s chambers the next morning with his breakfast tray, nervous over how he would be treated, as a partner or as a manservant. Logically, Merlin knew what Arthur was doing, and even agreed with his course of action. But in his heart, he couldn’t shake the hurt that came with being held at arm’s length by a man he’d literally spent a lifetime with.
Merlin knocked before entering like any proper servant would. “Breakfast, sire?” he asked softly upon entering the room.
“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur said stiffly, his back to Merlin. “You can set it down on the table. There’s a list of chores for you on the table. I’ll see you before training. Don’t forget my sword and chainmail.”
“Yes, sire,” Merlin whispered, taking comfort from the tiniest break in Arthur’s voice at end of his orders. Stupid, noble prat, Merlin sighed mentally.
--
Arthur was having a hard time adjusting to being a king again.
Training was brutal with his deteriorated reflexes and decades worth of lack of practice. Making decisions like whether or not to get involved in a neighboring kingdom’s battle made him sweat with nerves. Worst of all was his constant nagging worry that the people of his kingdom didn’t care about him; that they only smiled to his face because he was the king and could have them all hanged on a whim.
Arthur was so out of practice in being a leader that he could hardly remember how to behave in the way he used to. He spent his days trying to relearn a role that used to be like breathing to him. People expected him to speak first, to tell them what to do, and to act like an entitled prat.
Arthur didn’t know if he could be that person again.
Of course the only person Arthur wanted to talk to about his inner conflict was the one person he wouldn’t let himself get too close to anymore.
--
Merlin was struggling with being a servant again.
He had always been opinionated, preferring to speak out against a king rather than keep his mouth shut to avoid being sent to the stocks. But he had been able to restrain himself. Occasionally. After a lifetime as the heir to a multi-million dollar corporation, Merlin was convinced he forgot how to hold his tongue altogether. As a servant, he was meant to be seen but not heard. It was so easy to forget that his opinion wasn’t welcome in Camelot. Merlin found himself subject to glares and threats of flogging far more frequently than he was comfortable with. He strongly suspected that the only reason he hadn’t been dragged out and flogged already was because of his status as the King’s personal manservant.
Merlin had always been able to handle others’ opinions about his lack of courtly etiquette. What he missed the most were his father and Will. He would be forever grateful that he got an entirely lifetime with them, but he felt a bit lost without his loved ones in his life to anchor him. His only consolation was that his mother was alive and well in Camelot.
All Merlin wanted was to curl up at Arthur’s side, but all he could do was stare longingly at Arthur from across the room. The only thing that kept Merlin going was the knowledge that Arthur missed him just as much. Merlin caught Arthur’s wistful glances in his direction when he thought Merlin wasn’t looking. He lived for the occasional touches that didn’t come often enough but lasted a few seconds too long to be accidental. He knew he wasn’t far from Arthur’s thoughts, just as Arthur never left his. But he also knew that the distance was killing them both slowly even if neither of them would admit it.
--
Arthur didn’t realize the strain in his life was so apparent until Gwen came up to him nearly a month after his return.
“Gwen,” Arthur said, trying to mask his surprise at seeing her with a smile. He realized with a start that this was the first time he’d seen her since returning to Camelot, and he hadn’t even noticed the difference.
“Arthur,” Gwen replied, not bothering to hide her surprise in hearing Arthur call her “Gwen” instead of her given name. “Have you and Merlin had a fight? I’ve never seen the two of you so distant.”
Arthur sputtered for a few moments, completely caught off guard at the question. “A fight? Of course not. We’re not acting any differently than usual.”
Gwen gave Arthur a worried look. “You’re so formal with each other. The last time you treated each other this way was… well, never.”
Arthur just gaped at Gwen.
Gwen peered at Arthur in concern. “Are you both feeling all right? Was it the fall a few weeks ago? Have you hit your head? Because the day before that I saw the two of you laughing and practically wrestling on the training field.”
Arthur was struck dumb, having never realized just how intimate his and Merlin’s relationship had been even before they traveled in time. “I - no, Gwen, we haven’t had a fight,” Arthur finally said. “Everything’s fine.”
Gwen nodded doubtfully. “If you say so, Arthur.”
After Gwen left, Arthur sat on his bed heavily, replaying his and Merlin’s interactions over the years and comparing them to the way they had been treating each other in the recent month. Gwen was right. He’d been an idiot in pushing Merlin so far away he might as well have been working for someone else.
As Arthur had been turning over his conclusion in his mind, his chamber’s doors opened again, admitting Merlin instead of Gwen.
Merlin smiled uncertainly. “Sire? Gaius wants me to collect some rare herbs for him that only bloom during the full moon. The location is a day’s ride away. He wanted me to check with you that you would manage without me.”
“Yes, of course it’s fine,” Arthur said distractedly, gazing at Merlin intently.
“He’d like me to leave right away,” Merlin added.
“If you must,” Arthur sighed. “But, Merlin, before you go,” Arthur began, getting up and starting toward Merlin.
“Sire?” came a voice from the open doorway.
“Yes?” Arthur asked through gritted teeth.
“There’s a messenger from border patrol waiting in the great hall. He requests an audience with you. He says it’s urgent,” the serving boy at the door said.
Arthur sighed. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, sire,” the serving boy replied before scurrying off.
“Merlin,” Arthur began again, more softly this time, as he reached for Merlin’s hand. Merlin gave Arthur a surprised look, darting a glance at the open door. Arthur just gripped his hand tighter. “I think we need to discuss our current approach on our relationship. There’s no time now, but when you get back…” Arthur trailed off.
Merlin’s eyes widened. He studied Arthur’s face intently, and his face melted into a small, hopeful smile. “Yes, sire,” he whispered, a warmth injected into the honorific that hadn’t been present for weeks, squeezing Arthur’s hand gently before leaving.
Arthur watched fondly until Merlin turned the corner, then hurried to the great hall to meet the messenger.
--
“Sire!” the messenger cried the moment Arthur stepped through the door.
“Yes?”
“Bandits are attacking several of the outlying villages. Two have already been taken over and more are threatening to fall to their power. It is strongly believed that Mercia is involved in the attacks.”
Arthur didn’t even bother continuing to his throne. Instead, he turned to Leon and declared, “We ride for the border today. Gather some troops.”
“Yes, sire,” Leon said, hurrying out to organize the knights.
“Thank you,” Arthur said to the messenger. “Consider yourself welcome to help yourself to lodgings for the night. The steward will provide you with a room.”
“Thank you, sire,” the messenger said.
Arthur nodded before striding from the hall to rally his troops, his only regret that Merlin had already left the castle and he wouldn’t be able to speak with him until they both returned.
--
Upon his return from several skirmishes, Arthur trudged up the stairs toward his chambers, feeling weary to the bone. He was desperate for a nice night in his own bed, futilely longing to curl around Merlin to get a good night’s sleep. After entering his chambers, he was too tired to even let the door slam behind him, choosing instead to slip in the door in the narrowest possible opening and letting it fall shut behind him with a soft click. Arthur let his sword clatter on to the table and began lifting his chainmail when he froze.
“Oh,” Arthur breathed, staring at the bed and the body currently occupying it. All he could see was a tuft of messy black hair peeking out from under the blankets on his pillow, but he’d recognize that black fluff anywhere. It was a struggle to lift the chainmail over his own head with minimal clinking, but Arthur managed to avoid waking Merlin. He quickly disrobed, carelessly tossing the remainder of his clothing on the ground and went closer to his bed where Merlin flailed a little in his sleep, knocking blankets aside and cuddling into his pillow.
Arthur smiled indulgently and brushed the hair off Merlin’s forehead, then gently tugged the blankets back up to cover Merlin’s shoulders. Arthur continued to stare as Merlin snuffled into the blanket, letting out tiny sighs as he shifted. It had been so long since Arthur had the opportunity to see Merlin in such a relaxed state, that he only just realized how tense Merlin had been in the month they’d been back.
With a pang of guilt, Arthur ran a finger down Merlin’s cheek, mentally berating himself for being a fool and pushing Merlin away when they both needed each other most.
Feeling the ache in his bones, Arthur hurried to the other side of the bed and slid in beside Merlin, pausing for a moment to gauge Merlin’s reaction. When it was clear that Merlin wasn’t going to flail at him in self-defense, Arthur shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Merlin’s waist and tugging his back flush against Arthur’s chest. Arthur had a brief moment to close his eyes, bury his nose in Merlin’s neck, and enjoy it before Merlin began to stir, squirming and rubbing against places that hadn’t been touched in the past month.
“Merlin,” Arthur half-moaned. “Go back to sleep.”
Merlin froze. “Arthur?” he whispered disbelievingly.
“Why are you surprised?” Arthur grumbled. “You’re in my bed.”
Arthur practically felt the heat from the flush that spread over Merlin’s neck. Immediately, Merlin started trying to pry Arthur’s arm off to get out of bed, but Arthur refused to budge.
“I told you to go to sleep,” Arthur complained, tightening his hold and tugging Merlin even closer.
“But - “
“Just go to sleep, Merlin,” Arthur murmured. Then more quietly, “Stay. Please.”
Merlin didn’t move for several moments before he melted back in Arthur’s embrace.
Arthur drew his hand up Merlin’s body to his neck, dragging down the sleeve of Merlin’s sleeping tunic to press a kiss to his exposed shoulder before pulling the blankets back up to cover them.
Merlin gave a contented sigh and turned his head to brush his nose against Arthur’s cheek before settling down to sleep.
“I didn’t forget, you know,” Merlin murmured after a while.
“Forget what?” Arthur asked sleepily.
“That you love me,” Merlin whispered almost inaudibly.
Arthur felt a lump rise in his throat. He slid his arm down to Merlin’s stomach and tightened his hold around Merlin as he said gruffly, “Good.”
Arthur could practically feel Merlin’s smile in the curl of his fingers around Arthur’s on Merlin’s stomach.
Arthur fell asleep with a smile on his face.
--
Merlin woke to the sensation of fingers running through his hair. He grumbled and shook his head a little, trying to dislodge the unfamiliar sensation. When he heard a familiar chuckle, Merlin’s head snapped up, staring into Arthur’s eyes.
“Arthur?” Merlin whispered, afraid of speaking too loudly and destroying the illusion.
Arthur’s eyes softened. “It’s me,” Arthur replied, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“I-I’m sorry for just getting into your bed without permission, sire,” Merlin stammered. “I didn’t mean anything by it - “
“Didn’t you?” Arthur murmured as he pressed a kiss in Merlin’s hair. Merlin’s eyelids fluttered at the intimate gesture. “You’re always welcome in my bed, Merlin.”
“That’s not how you felt this past month,” Merlin said tentatively.
“I’ve been a prat,” Arthur said gruffly, voice muffled in Merlin’s hair.
A surprised laugh bubbled out of Merlin. “I see you’ve become more comfortable with that word.”
“What can I say, a lifetime with you changes a man,” Arthur said.
“A lifetime,” Merlin murmured, tucking his head under Arthur’s chin instinctively, the way he had done for the past fifty years. “Yet here we are.”
“Here we are,” Arthur echoed.
“It’s not the same, is it?”
“No,” Arthur admitted. “But then again, we’re not the same anymore either.”
“But this is still Camelot. Your Camelot. It’s a different world, and we have different lives,” Merlin said with a sigh, making to pull away.
Arthur tightened his hold on Merlin. “Who’s to say that?” Arthur said harshly. “I’m the king, aren’t I? If I want you, then damn it, I’ll have you.” After a pause, Arthur finished uncertainly, “As long as you want me too.”
“Arthur,” Merlin murmured, sitting up in bed and pulling Arthur up with him. Merlin searched Arthur’s face, looking for any hint of doubt, finding nothing but hope. “I’ll always want you. But you have a kingdom to rule. I won’t get in the way of that.”
“You won’t,” Arthur promised. “I’ve had a lifetime with you, Merlin, and I don’t plan to stop loving you just because that life is over. I can’t go back to the man I once was. More importantly, I don’t want to go back to being the prat I used to be. We were happy in our other life. We can have that in this one too. We can have our golden age, Merlin.”
Merlin cupped Arthur’s cheek and pressed their foreheads together. “Our golden age,” Merlin vowed and pressed their lips together, beginning the cycle that would take them through this life and every one after.
They would have their golden age.
The End
Fandom: Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Merlin/Freya
Length: 39k total
Summary: Merlin and Arthur wake up in the middle of a board meeting in the twenty-first century when they were in Camelot just moments before. Now they’re lost in a world they don’t understand, where Merlin is the son of the company owner and Arthur is the employee. Merlin’s lost his magic, Arthur doesn’t know how to not be a king, but somehow the world keeps turning.
Author's Notes: Written for paperlegends Takes place mid season 4. Time travel from canon to modern day and back.
Previous part | Masterpost
Merlin watched in despair as their - Arthur’s - bedroom door closed with Arthur on one side and himself on the other. It had been so long since they’d spent a night apart that Merlin felt as if a physical link had been cut between them. He felt the separation as acutely as the loss of a limb. Merlin stood staring at the closed bedroom door for a long time before he accepted that the door was not going to open again.
Merlin trudged forward until he rested his fingertips against the wood of the door, fancying that he could feel Arthur’s warmth just on the other side. With a quiet hiccupping sob, Merlin rested his forehead against the door, desperately wishing the situation could have gone better.
It was the middle of the night by the time Merlin tore himself from Arthur’s bedroom door to enter his own bedroom. Merlin flicked on the light and gazed at the neatly made bed and the empty tabletops. Merlin hadn’t realized how much of his stuff had been moved to Arthur’s room until that very moment. For the first time it hit Merlin just how much his life had become entwined with Arthur’s.
Without bothering to undress, Merlin climbed on to his bed and curled up on top of the covers where he fell into a fitful sleep, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.
--
The next morning, Merlin woke with the dawn. He dragged himself out of bed to make breakfast for Arthur, hoping the extra effort would soften him up. Arthur always did like a good breakfast in the mornings.
When Arthur did emerge from his bedroom, Merlin felt a pang go through him when he saw the bags under Arthur’s eyes and the weariness of his gait.
“I made breakfast,” Merlin said, waving a piece of toast enticingly.
Arthur didn’t even look at Merlin, choosing instead to go straight to the bathroom, door shutting quietly behind him.
Merlin slowly lowered the toast, staring at it forlornly, half wishing Arthur had slammed the door so Merlin would know where his mind was at.
Merlin set out two plates and piled Arthur’s with eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, and tomatoes. He was halfway through scooping up the eggs when he realized he had no appetite. With a sigh, Merlin set the pan back down on the stove and picked up his piece of toast, nibbling halfheartedly.
Merlin stood waiting for Arthur to reemerge, trying to get some sense of comfort from the sounds of running water and the knowledge that at least Arthur was still going about his day.
When Arthur finally exited the bathroom, Merlin called his name softly. Arthur didn’t look at him, but Merlin knew he was listening from the tensing on his shoulders.
“I’m going to head into the office. Feel free to take as much time off as you want,” Merlin said quietly. Merlin made an aborted movement towards Arthur, instinctively moving to kiss him on the cheek like he always did if he left the flat without Arthur.
Embarrassed, Merlin grabbed his coat and hurried to the door. As he was stepping out, he heard Arthur’s muttered response of “I don’t need days off, Merlin.”
Flooded with relief that Arthur wouldn’t be running off, Merlin shut the door behind him and took off at a brisk walk for work, needing the fresh air to clear his head.
--
Arthur finally turned toward the kitchen after the door clicked shut. He gazed at the still warm plate of breakfast Merlin made and the single half-eaten piece of toast and mentally reprimanded himself for the warmth that spread through his chest. He wasn’t supposed to care what Merlin did for him. It shouldn’t matter after Merlin’s betrayal. It was a betrayal that cut too deep. Despite it all, Arthur still couldn’t curb the urge to wrap Merlin in his arms and kiss the pain away upon hearing the raw hurt in his voice when Arthur wouldn’t look at him. In truth, Arthur couldn’t bring himself to look at Merlin. It hurt too much. And if he did, Arthur knew any resolve he had would crumble.
As Arthur ate his breakfast, his gaze kept drifting to the empty seat across the table and the barely eaten toast. Arthur could hardly remember what it was like to have breakfast without Merlin chattering at him from across the table. When Arthur noticed the rest of the untouched food, he felt a pang of concern go through him as he realized Merlin hadn’t eaten anything but for a few bites of toast.
During the car ride to the office, Arthur asked the driver to stop at a café briefly, where he dashed in and bought Merlin a chocolate croissant and a cup of ridiculously sweet coffee with whip cream. When he returned to the car, Arthur got a wink from the driver as he looked pointedly at the food in Arthur’s hand.
“He dash off too early this morning?” the driver asked as he pulled back on the road.
“Something like that,” Arthur replied quietly, smiling weakly, knowing it didn’t reach his eyes. Thankfully, the driver didn’t ask more.
When Arthur arrived at the office, he knocked on Freya’s door instead going to Merlin’s. “Freya?”
“Arthur!” Freya said, looking at Arthur in surprise. “What is it?”
“Can you put these on Merlin’s desk for me?” Arthur asked, holding out the croissant and coffee.
Freya’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Me? Why don’t you give it to him when he comes in?”
“He hasn’t come in yet?” Arthur asked, feeling worry sweep through him.
“No…” Freya peered at Arthur carefully. “Have you two had a fight?” Freya asked gently.
Arthur avoided Freya’s gaze. “I’ll go set these down on his desk then.”
“No, Arthur, wait. You know you can talk to me if something’s wrong, don’t you?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Arthur replied, shooting Freya a weak smile.
“Then is everything okay?”
“It’s complicated,” was Arthur’s only response before he hurried out of Freya’s office and into Merlin’s.
--
When Merlin arrived at work, he hurried to his office, hesitating for a beat by Arthur’s desk, but continued on when Arthur made no gesture of acknowledgement. Merlin collapsed in his chair, barely managing to avoid dumping his things on top of the croissant and coffee.
Puzzled, Merlin stared at the food, taking a small sip of the coffee and closing his eyes in bliss. Quickly, Merlin went to Freya’s office.
“Thanks for the coffee and the croissant,” Merlin said, smiling gratefully at Freya.
“You’re thanking the wrong person, I’m afraid,” Freya replied, nodding in the direction of Arthur’s desk.
Merlin spun around to stare in the direction Freya indicated, eyes practically boring a hole through the wall between Freya’s office and the rest of the floor as if he could see Arthur.
“Arthur brought it?” Merlin whispered.
“He did,” Freya said. As Merlin stared off into space, lost in thought, Freya came around her desk to stand beside him. “What happened?” she asked softly.
“Keeping secrets,” Merlin said ruefully, sending Freya a sad smile.
“What was he keeping from you?”
Merlin gave a hollow laugh. “Nothing. It was my fault.” Then a beat later, more quietly, “It’s always my fault.”
Merlin could practically feel it when Freya’s protective instincts rose to the surface. She wrapped an arm around Merlin and told him sternly, “It’s not always your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong. If he’s hurting you, you need to tell me, Merlin.”
Merlin tried to shrug Freya off, regretting saying anything at all. He didn’t want people to think badly of Arthur. But he couldn’t tell the truth to clear his name. “Look, Freya,” Merlin said exasperatedly. “It’s not how it sounded. It was my fault this time, okay? I screwed up because I kept something big from Arthur for a long time. He has every right to be mad. I just… don’t know if he’ll come around.”
Freya gave Merlin a sympathetic squeeze. “He will,” she promised.
“How can you know that?” Merlin asked forlornly.
“Because he loves you,” she said simply. “Besides, who could stay mad at that face?” Freya teased, poking Merlin’s cheek playfully.
Merlin gave a short laugh as he batted Freya’s finger away. Merlin looked up and out of Freya’s office door. He froze and felt his stomach drop when he met Arthur’s hurt gaze on the other side of the office where Arthur was standing at the copy machine with a direct line of sight into Freya’s open office.
Merlin wanted to rush to him and tell him it wasn’t what it looked like. But what could he say at this point that would alleviate the pain? Arthur turned away first, snatching the papers from the copier and hurrying back to his desk.
Merlin sighed and forced himself to return to his office.
--
Merlin spent the next month gazing listlessly at his paperwork and jumping every time he thought he heard Arthur’s voice. Freya ended up doing most of his work for him.
Merlin was tired of the pitying glances he got from his employees. Gone were the cooing sounds the women made as he and Arthur passed, and in their place were comforting pats on the arm and lowered voices as he approached.
Gwaine even toned down his blatant flirting with anything that moved when Merlin was around. Gwen tended to pat his cheek and force feed him whenever she saw him. Merlin knew he didn’t look great. He’d stopped looking at himself in the mirror. He didn’t know what he would do with himself if Arthur didn’t forgive him. And it was a little disturbing to look in the mirror and not recognize the man staring back at you.
Merlin knew his father was worried, he’d even called Will several times and asked him to visit Merlin. Will had shown up on his doorstep after the third phone call and stayed for a few days, trying to cheer Merlin up. Unfortunately, it did little to help. The only good that came from the visit was the fact that he and Freya seemed to hit it off right away. Merlin had high hopes for the two of them even if his hopes for his own happiness seemed to shrink with each passing day.
--
Arthur didn’t feel much better than Merlin. He spent his days sneaking glances at Merlin, worried about how he was doing while not wanting to get involved. He went back to putting off his work and no one would scold him over it.
He went back to being a prat around the office, snapping at co-workers and not talking whenever anyone tried to speak to him. It didn’t deter anyone though. In fact, they all seemed even more sympathetic, offering him biscuits and a sympathetic ear if he ever needed one.
Everyone tended to look at Arthur like he lost the best thing that would ever happen to him. The worst thing was, Arthur couldn’t help but be afraid that they were right.
--
"Mr. Emrys wants to see you," Freya whispered as she passed Arthur's desk.
"What?" Arthur squeaked. He'd never had to talk to Merlin's father alone before. Especially not after finding out that he was the dragonlord he and Merlin had been searching for once upon a time.
"Yes, and you'd better hurry," she told him. "He doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Arthur gulped and set off for Merlin's father's office. He had no idea what Balinor Emrys could possibly want. What if he wanted to fire him for breaking Merlin's heart? Arthur didn't want to be fired! Besides, he still liked being close to Merlin, even if he couldn't quite forgive and forget.
Arthur knocked hesitantly on the door marked CEO.
"Enter."
Arthur braced himself and stepped into the room. "Mr. Emrys," Arthur said as steadily as he could. "How can I help you?"
"It's simple really," Balinor replied, sending Arthur an exasperated glance. "Fix my son."
"Excuse me?" Arthur stammered.
"Fix my son," Balinor repeated. "Merlin. Your best friend. The man you've clearly been in love with for far too long."
"Mr. Emrys, I don't think you understand - " Arthur began.
"No, I don't," Balinor said. "Which is why I told you to fix it rather than telling you how to fix it. I don't know which one of you messed up, but I'm telling you because my son will just mutter about how it's all his fault and that he deserves it."
Arthur was silent.
"Judging by your lack of protest, I'm assuming you are the one who needs to do the fixing?"
"We both did and said some things we regret, sir," Arthur said slowly. "But it's not something that can be fixed as easily as you're suggesting."
"I think you both are over-complicating the situation," Balinor said matter of factly. "I've seen the puppy dog looks you send each other when the other isn't looking. It seems to me that you both miss the other but are both too proud to admit it."
"I'll do my best, sir," Arthur said, suppressing a sigh, knowing he couldn't explain anything without sounding like a loon.
"That's what I like to hear," Balinor said, grinning at Arthur in a way so reminiscent of Merlin Arthur had to clench his fists to stop from reaching up to rub at the physical pain in his chest.
--
"Merlin?" Arthur called when the front door opened.
"Arthur?" Merlin said, voice so full of hope it made Arthur's heart hurt. He really hadn't realized how much Merlin had been hurting over the past month.
"Can I talk to you?"
Merlin came tripping into the room in two seconds flat. "What is it?" Merlin asked hopefully, eyes darting toward Arthur to meet his eyes briefly, then quickly sliding away, as if afraid of what he might find.
"I spoke to your father today."
Merlin blinked at Arthur owlishly. "Okay..."
"He told me, and I quote, 'fix my son.'"
To Arthur's great amusement, Merlin's face and neck flushed bright red. Arthur couldn't recall ever seeing Merlin turn that shade of red in all the time he'd known him.
"He had no right to do that," Merlin said flatly.
"No, I suppose not," Arthur said, waiting for Merlin's response.
"Don't listen to my father," Merlin said quietly, shoulders slumped in defeat, but eyes flashing in anger all the while. "He had no right to say that to you. No right to abuse the power he has as your boss."
Arthur didn't reply. The longer Arthur remained silent, the more worked up Merlin got. "My father thinks he can say things like that and it won't matter. He knows that when he tells someone to do something, they do it because they're terrified of losing their jobs. So he rarely does things like that! He knew exactly what he was doing when he told you to 'fix me'," Merlin snapped. "He has absolutely no right to interfere in my relationships. I promise you your job is safe, Arthur. So don't listen to my father."
Arthur chuckled to himself. Same Merlin. The one who cared about equality, didn't care about social status, and apparently still put Arthur above everyone else, including his own newly found father. Before he really knew what he was doing, Arthur stepped forward, caught Merlin's flailing arm, and pulled him close. As Merlin stuttered to a halt, Arthur kissed him, drowning in the sensation of Merlin's lips against his for the first time in a month.
Arthur fought back a smile as he felt Merlin's eyes flutter shut by the light brush of Merlin's eyelashes against his cheek and felt Merlin sigh softly against Arthur's mouth, melting slightly in Arthur's arms. Just as Arthur relaxed fully into the kiss, Merlin shoved him away, making Arthur stumble on to the couch in hurt confusion.
"Arthur," Merlin whispered, avoiding Arthur's gaze.
"What's wrong?" Arthur asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.
Merlin laughed hollowly. "I guess I know why you never slept with any of the serving girls in Camelot."
Arthur was completely bewildered. "What the hell are you on about?"
"They're obligated to please you, just like how you feel obligated to 'fix' me just because my father asked it. I don't want that, Arthur."
Merlin looked so sad and broken that Arthur found himself reaching for Merlin's hands before his mind registered he was doing it.
"Merlin," Arthur murmured. "Look at me."
Merlin met Arthur's gaze reluctantly.
"That's not why I'm doing this. I promise," Arthur said softly. "I've wanted you back for ages. But I just haven't been able to swallow my pride and tell you that."
"How do I know you're not just saying that?" Merlin asked, shoulders sagging wearily.
"You just have to trust me," Arthur said. "You've always been good at that. Why stop now?"
"Because things are different now."
"Has that made you stop trusting me?" Arthur asked, hurt.
"No!" Merlin exclaimed. "Never!"
"So trust me on this," Arthur said, peering into Merlin's face. "Do you really think I would lie to you to curry favor?"
"No," Merlin admitted.
"Exactly. So trust me when I say that I do still love you."
"Okay," Merlin whispered. "Okay."
Arthur stood slowly and edged closer to Merlin, pressing close to him and nudging Merlin's cheek with his nose, silently asking permission to steal another kiss. Merlin smiled shyly and leaned forward, capturing Arthur's lips with his own.
“Now that’s more like it,” Arthur murmured against Merlin’s lips.
--
That night, after a rather enthusiastic bout of make-up sex, Arthur pulled Merlin into his arms and asked, “Will you show me your magic?”
Merlin’s entire face lit up as he nodded vigorously. Without giving any thought to what he would show Arthur, Merlin just let his magic decide, and when he opened his palm, a glowing blue orb appeared over his hand.
Merlin peered at Arthur’s face nervously, giddy with excitement over showing Arthur his magic, but feeling wary at the look of shock on Arthur’s face. “Arthur?” he whispered.
“It was you,” Arthur murmured.
Merlin looked between the blue orb and Arthur in confusion. “Excuse me?”
Arthur finally tore his eyes away from the orb of light and met Merlin’s gaze. Merlin was shocked to see tears standing in Arthur’s eyes. “It was you,” Arthur repeated. “All those years ago, when I went to find the Mortaeus flower for you, a glowing blue orb guided me out of the caves. It’s always been you, hasn’t it, Merlin?”
Merlin stared at the orb floating over his palm in wonder, and said, “Gaius told me I was muttering in my sleep and that I was doing some kind of spell. I had no idea.”
“God, Merlin,” Arthur said, with a half laugh, half sob. “Even while you had no idea what you were doing. Even while you were dying, you were protecting me. How could I ever have doubted you?”
Merlin smiled and leaned further into Arthur’s embrace. “It doesn’t matter. As long as you know now that all of this,” Merlin gestured a bit with the orb, “has been for you. That’s enough for me.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Arthur murmured into Merlin’s hair. “And I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“I have been for years,” Merlin whispered back. “You’ve just been too much of a prat to see it.”
Arthur laughed. “Don’t ever change, Merlin. I want you to always be you. Insolent, cheeky, and impossibly endearing.”
Merlin didn’t respond, just snuggled closer to Arthur and sighed in contentment.
“Can I hold it?” Arthur asked tentatively.
Merlin’s smile widened as he took Arthur’s hand in his own and held it, palm up, before passing the orb to Arthur. Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand tightly as he stared at the glowing ball of light with childlike awe. “It’s beautiful,” he breathed.
“I know,” Merlin simply said, keeping hold of Arthur’s hand with the intention of never letting go.
--
“Have you heard of Arthurian legend?” Merlin asked suddenly.
“A few mentions, I think,” Arthur replied, keeping his eyes glued to the TV.
“Didn’t you ever wonder what it was?”
“Some kind of legend, I assume,” Arthur said with a shrug.
“It’s about you,” Merlin blurted out.
“What?” Arthur exclaimed, head snapping around to stare at Merlin incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”
Merlin hopped up off the couch from where he was curled into Arthur’s side. “I’m very serious, Arthur. Come look.”
Arthur followed wordlessly as Merlin walked off to his old bedroom. Merlin pulled several books off one of the shelves tucked away in a corner of the room and presented them to Arthur. “Just skim some of them,” Merlin said softly. “It’s about you. And me. And everyone we once knew.”
Arthur looked at Merlin skeptically but indulged him, sitting down at the desk to leaf through the texts. Before he knew it, several hours had passed and he was deeply engrossed in stories about the life he once lived. They were extremely inaccurate accounts, but the threads of truth in each story were unmistakable.
“Merlin,” Arthur whispered in awe, lifting his head to meet Merlin’s nervous gaze. “Are these really about us?”
Merlin nodded tentatively. “That was us. And we’re still us now, hundreds of years in the future.”
“How is that possible?” Arthur asked.
“We’ve been… reborn,” Merlin replied. “I can’t explain how I know, but I can feel that we’re still the same people, just like everyone around us.”
“So we’re still in a version of Camelot?” Arthur asked, quirking a smile.
“In a way, yes,” Merlin said. “Have you got to the end yet?”
“Not quite. There’s all this stuff about Gwen and Lancelot which I really should’ve expected.”
“You’re not mad?”
“About them?” Arthur asked. “No. It’s really not surprising at all. It was always clear who Gwen’s first choice was, and it certainly wasn’t me.”
“But you stayed with her anyway,” Merlin said.
“I did,” Arthur admitted. “It got to a point where neither of us knew how to end it. I’d defied my father for her, for god’s sake.”
“Exactly,” Merlin murmured, not looking at Arthur.
“Merlin,” Arthur said softly, abandoning the books to put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “It’s always been you. Even before I fully realized it. I do care for Gwen. But in her, I see the Queen I know she can be. Any infatuation I once had with her burned out long ago.”
Merlin offered Arthur a small smile. “Really?”
“Really,” Arthur said firmly, brushing a light kiss over Merlin’s lips.
“Keep reading,” Merlin said, gesturing to the books.
Arthur kept reading.
--
“A golden age?” Arthur murmured, voice gone soft in wonder.
“Your golden age,” Merlin replied. Arthur could hear the smile in his voice.
“Our golden age,” Arthur corrected, smiling brilliantly at Merlin.
“Our golden age,” Merlin repeated, eyes soft with affection.
--
“Well,” Arthur said upon closing the final text. “It looks like my death is pretty set in stone.”
Merlin bit his lip so hard he broke the skin. “I won’t let that happen,” Merlin choked out.
Arthur looked up, eyes softening at the tortured look in Merlin’s eyes. He grabbed a tissue and sat down beside Merlin on the bed, dabbing at the blood that gathered on Merlin’s bottom lip.
“When did you find out?” Arthur asked softly, instinctively knowing that Merlin had been torturing himself with this information for years.
“Since we saved Mordred from being executed,” Merlin said, not daring to look Arthur in the eye. “I was the one who helped him in the courtyard, Arthur. I tried to stay away when you were getting him out from the dungeons, but I couldn’t. It’s all my fault.” Merlin buried his face in his hands.
“No, Merlin,” Arthur said, voice impossibly tender, gently tugging Merlin’s hands away from his face. “I wouldn’t have you commit murder for my sake.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Merlin muttered.
Arthur’s tugging became more urgent. “What?” he asked sharply. “What do you mean it wouldn’t be the first time? Tell me, Merlin!”
“Protecting you isn’t exactly like prancing through a field of daisies,” Merlin snorted. “It’s not always easy.”
“Who have you killed, Merlin?” Arthur demanded.
“Do you want a list?” Merlin snapped.
“Yes!”
Merlin fell silent.
“Tell me, Merlin,” Arthur half pleaded. “Tell me everything.”
“Everything?” Merlin said hollowly.
“From the beginning. Tell me about your magic. About everything I’ve missed over the years.”
And Merlin did.
By the end of the story, Arthur had drawn Merlin into his arms, holding him tight, as if trying to hold together an armful of broken pieces. “Why did you do it?”
“Because you’re worth it,” Merlin simply said.
“Because of the prophecy?”
“No,” Merlin said softly. “Because you’re you.”
--
“Do you think we’ll ever get back, Merlin?”
Merlin didn’t speak for several long moments. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I’m still trying, Arthur. But it’s not easy with nothing to work off of.”
“Just… keep trying, won’t you?” Arthur asked quietly.
Merlin nodded and sent Arthur a weary smile.
--
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted when he arrived home to find Merlin sprawled on the floor, not moving.
Arthur ran to Merlin and fell to the floor beside him, gathering the limp body in his arms and shaking it.
“Merlin, please wake up,” Arthur begged. He grabbed Merlin’s wrist and felt for a pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when he found one.
“Merlin,” Arthur whispered. “I need you. Please wake up.” Arthur pressed his forehead to Merlin’s and stayed like that for so long, Arthur lost track of time. When he finally felt Merlin stirring, Arthur pulled back to better study Merlin’s face.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked hopefully.
Merlin groaned and raised a hand to his head. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at Arthur blearily. “Arthur? What happened?” he croaked.
“Thank god,” Arthur breathed, wrapping Merlin in such a tight embrace that he had to choke out, “Can’t. Breathe,” before Arthur would let go.
“Merlin, what were you doing?” Arthur asked, after he helped Merlin on to the bed. “I came home and just found you lying on the floor. I thought you were dead,” Arthur said, the last word coming out as a sob.
“I was…” Merlin trailed off, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead in an effort to remember. “I was trying to find a way back to Camelot,” Merlin finally admitted. “I found a spell in a book that I thought might work. I think it kind of got away from me. And the next thing I knew, you were there and I don’t really know what happened in between.”
“That’s it,” Arthur said firmly. “No more spells to send us back to Camelot.”
“But, Arthur,” Merlin protested. “I thought you wanted to go back.”
“I do,” Arthur said. “Of course I do. But it’s not worth losing you.”
“I can do it, Arthur. I know I can. I just haven’t found the right spell yet.”
“Yes, and by the time you do, you’ll probably be dead.”
“Have some faith in me,” Merlin said, sounding hurt.
“Merlin, I have all the faith in the world in you,” Arthur said soothingly. “But I don’t want you exhausting yourself over this and hurting yourself somehow. I was terrified when I walked in the door today. I know you’re doing this for my sake. So please. Stop. For me. I’d rather stay here for the rest of my life than lose you and go back to Camelot alone.”
“Arthur…”
“No, Merlin. Promise me.”
Merlin studied Arthur carefully, seeing the genuine fear in Arthur’s eyes. “Okay,” he finally said softly. “I promise.”
--
They never did get back to Camelot in that lifetime. But somehow that was okay. In the end, it didn’t matter that they weren’t in their Camelot. They had a life in the twenty-first century. One where they could be happy together. After a while, the exact place and time they were in stopped mattering so much.
--
Decades from the moment they fell into their future, Arthur and Merlin found themselves old and gray and living contentedly in a world they weren’t born into. Having never found a way back to their own time, Merlin was grateful to have defied the prophecy, in the least conventional way possible. Despite having the power to defy destiny, Merlin still couldn’t fight against the flow of time, aging as any ordinary man does.
Old age eventually claimed Merlin, coaxing him from the mortal world in his sleep. Arthur, having lost his anchor to the twenty-first century upon Merlin’s death, easily followed Merlin as if being tugged by the hand. And so the pair slipped out of the world they were never meant to belong to just as they slipped in - together.
--
Arthur woke again to find himself sprawled on the floor, with Merlin’s familiar weight on top of him.
“Sire!” someone called.
Arthur froze. No one had called him that for decades. From his position on the ground, Arthur scrutinized the flagstones beneath his cheek. He’d walked on those same flagstones all his life. He’d know them anywhere. He was back in Camelot.
“Sire? Merlin?” came a voice from just above Arthur.
Arthur looked up past Merlin’s startled face to see Leon staring down at him. He felt a pang in his chest as he took in the at once familiar and foreign chainmail, struck by a sudden longing for the futuristic world he left behind.
Merlin quickly rolled off Arthur and stood up, dusting himself off shakily.
Leon offered Arthur’s a hand, asking in a hushed tone, “Are you feeling well, sire?”
“Fine,” Arthur whispered thickly, struggling to find his voice. Gratefully, Arthur took Leon’s hand, ignoring the flicker of surprise across Leon’s face, knowing that the him of Camelot would never have allowed himself to show weakness in public.
Arthur stood, quickly releasing Leon’s hand, brushing himself off and deliberately avoiding the council’s gaze.
“I think I shall retire for a bit. I’m feeling a bit unsteady from the fall,” Arthur said, lying through his teeth. Without waiting for a reply, he said awkwardly, “Attend me, Merlin,” and swept out from the council chambers , forcing himself not to look back to check if Merlin was following.
--
The doors to the King’s chambers clicked shut behind them.
“Merlin!” Arthur yelled in a whisper. “What the hell happened? The last thing I remember is getting into bed with you. In the twenty-first century. As an old man!”
“I know!” Merlin shot back, feeling shaken to the core. “I remember all that too. And - “ Merlin faltered for a moment, gnawing on his lip indecisively before continuing even more quietly. “I remember dying. I remember leaving my body behind, but still feeling your hand in mine,” he whispered.
Arthur’s jaw dropped in shock, but he recovered quickly, expression softening as he reached out to rub Merlin’s arms soothingly. “I’m right here,” Arthur murmured. “We’re both right here. Are you all right?”
Merlin nodded mutely, shooting Arthur a tight smile. Arthur’s gaze was softened with years of affection as he met Merlin’s tired eyes and folded him into his arms, offering what little comfort he could. Arthur didn’t let go until the minute tremors that ran down Merlin’s spine became fewer and farther between before they stopped entirely.
After the trembling stopped, Merlin pushed Arthur away gently and gave him a tired smile. “You should go back,” he said. “A king shouldn’t just walk out of a council meeting.”
“I don’t want to leave you here alone,” Arthur protested, tightening his arms around Merlin to prevent him pulling away.
Merlin shook his head with a small smile. “It’s fine. We have to get used to being who we used to be eventually. Might as well start now.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Arthur asked, peering at Merlin worriedly. “You can come with me.”
“I’m fine, Arthur. Don’t worry. I should straighten up your chambers anyway.”
Arthur pursed his lips, looking slightly uncomfortable at the thought of Merlin playing the role of servant again.
Merlin laughed a little. “Just go! I pick up after you around the house all the time anyway. I know you still love me.”
Arthur gave him a quick peck on the nose. “Come find me later,” Arthur said before pulling away. He paused with his hand on the door, turning back to find Merlin staring after him. “I do, you know,” Arthur said softly.
Merlin blinked in confusion. “Do what?”
“Love you,” Arthur replied, quirking a smile. “Don’t ever forget that.”
Merlin’s face melted into an affectionate smile. “I won’t.”
--
Arthur returned to the council chambers just as his councilors began filing out. The moment he appeared, everyone paused, looking to him expectantly for direction.
Arthur froze, completely blanking on how to properly address his council. “Shall we - ? Er, we shall reconvene tomorrow at the same time as today,” Arthur announced awkwardly, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when his councilors bowed their heads and left the council chambers.
Each councilors murmured, “I hope you are doing well, sire,” as they passed, dutifully waiting for a nod from Arthur before passing him to leave through the double doors.
Only Sir Leon, the last to leave, paused beside Arthur and asked, “How are you, sire?” in a way that Arthur believed to be genuine.
“I’m doing fine, Leon,” Arthur said politely, still trying to find his footing with court etiquette. Leon seemed satisfied with Arthur’s answer judging by the nod he gave Arthur. As Arthur turned to leave, Leon fell into step just behind him and followed up his previous question by asking, “And Merlin?”
Arthur’s step faltered briefly as he replied, “He’s fine as well.” For the first time, the chasm between his and Merlin’s status became apparent to Arthur. For the first time, Arthur saw the difference between them as an insurmountable gap, as the rest of the world did. Leon’s concern for Merlin’s well-being contrasted starkly with the rest of the castle’s lack of concern for a servant. Never before had he felt class differences as acutely as he did in that moment.
With a sinking feeling, he realized that he and Merlin couldn’t carry on as they had done in the future.
--
That night, Arthur returned to his chambers and found Merlin curled up on a chair, leafing through one of the battle strategy books he found so boring.
“Hi,” Merlin said brightly when he spotted Arthur. He set down the book and came toward Arthur, eyes soft with affection. Merlin paused uncertainly when Arthur backed away, shaking his head minutely. “What’s wrong?”
“Merlin…” Arthur said, avoiding Merlin’s gaze.
“What is it, Arthur?” Merlin asked, concern etched in his voice.
“Perhaps we should spend the night apart,” Arthur blurted out.
Arthur could practically feel the hurt in the silence that followed. Before Arthur had a chance to try and soften the blow, Merlin spoke again. “Oh,” he said simply.
Arthur looked up to find Merlin giving him a wobbly smile, uncertainty swimming in his eyes. “It’s probably for the best. What would the castle say if they knew?” Merlin said, clearly trying to put a reason to Arthur’s statement.
Arthur nodded weakly.
“Shall I undress you, sire?” Merlin asked hesitantly.
Arthur didn’t bother to correct Merlin’s way of addressing him, biting his tongue ease the guilt he was feeling. “That won’t be necessary,” Arthur replied.
Merlin nodded slowly. “I’ll see you in the morning then, sire,” Merlin said as formally as he could manage. As he passed Arthur on his way out the door, he brushed his hand against Arthur’s briefly and murmured, “I still love you too, you know.”
The moment the door swung shut behind Merlin, Arthur’s legs gave out from under him. It took all the will power he had to stop himself from running after Merlin.
They were master and servant; this was the way it was supposed to be, Arthur told himself firmly as he crawled into bed.
He still tossed and turned half the night, searching for a warmth beside him that he wouldn’t find.
--
Merlin arrived in Arthur’s chambers the next morning with his breakfast tray, nervous over how he would be treated, as a partner or as a manservant. Logically, Merlin knew what Arthur was doing, and even agreed with his course of action. But in his heart, he couldn’t shake the hurt that came with being held at arm’s length by a man he’d literally spent a lifetime with.
Merlin knocked before entering like any proper servant would. “Breakfast, sire?” he asked softly upon entering the room.
“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur said stiffly, his back to Merlin. “You can set it down on the table. There’s a list of chores for you on the table. I’ll see you before training. Don’t forget my sword and chainmail.”
“Yes, sire,” Merlin whispered, taking comfort from the tiniest break in Arthur’s voice at end of his orders. Stupid, noble prat, Merlin sighed mentally.
--
Arthur was having a hard time adjusting to being a king again.
Training was brutal with his deteriorated reflexes and decades worth of lack of practice. Making decisions like whether or not to get involved in a neighboring kingdom’s battle made him sweat with nerves. Worst of all was his constant nagging worry that the people of his kingdom didn’t care about him; that they only smiled to his face because he was the king and could have them all hanged on a whim.
Arthur was so out of practice in being a leader that he could hardly remember how to behave in the way he used to. He spent his days trying to relearn a role that used to be like breathing to him. People expected him to speak first, to tell them what to do, and to act like an entitled prat.
Arthur didn’t know if he could be that person again.
Of course the only person Arthur wanted to talk to about his inner conflict was the one person he wouldn’t let himself get too close to anymore.
--
Merlin was struggling with being a servant again.
He had always been opinionated, preferring to speak out against a king rather than keep his mouth shut to avoid being sent to the stocks. But he had been able to restrain himself. Occasionally. After a lifetime as the heir to a multi-million dollar corporation, Merlin was convinced he forgot how to hold his tongue altogether. As a servant, he was meant to be seen but not heard. It was so easy to forget that his opinion wasn’t welcome in Camelot. Merlin found himself subject to glares and threats of flogging far more frequently than he was comfortable with. He strongly suspected that the only reason he hadn’t been dragged out and flogged already was because of his status as the King’s personal manservant.
Merlin had always been able to handle others’ opinions about his lack of courtly etiquette. What he missed the most were his father and Will. He would be forever grateful that he got an entirely lifetime with them, but he felt a bit lost without his loved ones in his life to anchor him. His only consolation was that his mother was alive and well in Camelot.
All Merlin wanted was to curl up at Arthur’s side, but all he could do was stare longingly at Arthur from across the room. The only thing that kept Merlin going was the knowledge that Arthur missed him just as much. Merlin caught Arthur’s wistful glances in his direction when he thought Merlin wasn’t looking. He lived for the occasional touches that didn’t come often enough but lasted a few seconds too long to be accidental. He knew he wasn’t far from Arthur’s thoughts, just as Arthur never left his. But he also knew that the distance was killing them both slowly even if neither of them would admit it.
--
Arthur didn’t realize the strain in his life was so apparent until Gwen came up to him nearly a month after his return.
“Gwen,” Arthur said, trying to mask his surprise at seeing her with a smile. He realized with a start that this was the first time he’d seen her since returning to Camelot, and he hadn’t even noticed the difference.
“Arthur,” Gwen replied, not bothering to hide her surprise in hearing Arthur call her “Gwen” instead of her given name. “Have you and Merlin had a fight? I’ve never seen the two of you so distant.”
Arthur sputtered for a few moments, completely caught off guard at the question. “A fight? Of course not. We’re not acting any differently than usual.”
Gwen gave Arthur a worried look. “You’re so formal with each other. The last time you treated each other this way was… well, never.”
Arthur just gaped at Gwen.
Gwen peered at Arthur in concern. “Are you both feeling all right? Was it the fall a few weeks ago? Have you hit your head? Because the day before that I saw the two of you laughing and practically wrestling on the training field.”
Arthur was struck dumb, having never realized just how intimate his and Merlin’s relationship had been even before they traveled in time. “I - no, Gwen, we haven’t had a fight,” Arthur finally said. “Everything’s fine.”
Gwen nodded doubtfully. “If you say so, Arthur.”
After Gwen left, Arthur sat on his bed heavily, replaying his and Merlin’s interactions over the years and comparing them to the way they had been treating each other in the recent month. Gwen was right. He’d been an idiot in pushing Merlin so far away he might as well have been working for someone else.
As Arthur had been turning over his conclusion in his mind, his chamber’s doors opened again, admitting Merlin instead of Gwen.
Merlin smiled uncertainly. “Sire? Gaius wants me to collect some rare herbs for him that only bloom during the full moon. The location is a day’s ride away. He wanted me to check with you that you would manage without me.”
“Yes, of course it’s fine,” Arthur said distractedly, gazing at Merlin intently.
“He’d like me to leave right away,” Merlin added.
“If you must,” Arthur sighed. “But, Merlin, before you go,” Arthur began, getting up and starting toward Merlin.
“Sire?” came a voice from the open doorway.
“Yes?” Arthur asked through gritted teeth.
“There’s a messenger from border patrol waiting in the great hall. He requests an audience with you. He says it’s urgent,” the serving boy at the door said.
Arthur sighed. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
“Yes, sire,” the serving boy replied before scurrying off.
“Merlin,” Arthur began again, more softly this time, as he reached for Merlin’s hand. Merlin gave Arthur a surprised look, darting a glance at the open door. Arthur just gripped his hand tighter. “I think we need to discuss our current approach on our relationship. There’s no time now, but when you get back…” Arthur trailed off.
Merlin’s eyes widened. He studied Arthur’s face intently, and his face melted into a small, hopeful smile. “Yes, sire,” he whispered, a warmth injected into the honorific that hadn’t been present for weeks, squeezing Arthur’s hand gently before leaving.
Arthur watched fondly until Merlin turned the corner, then hurried to the great hall to meet the messenger.
--
“Sire!” the messenger cried the moment Arthur stepped through the door.
“Yes?”
“Bandits are attacking several of the outlying villages. Two have already been taken over and more are threatening to fall to their power. It is strongly believed that Mercia is involved in the attacks.”
Arthur didn’t even bother continuing to his throne. Instead, he turned to Leon and declared, “We ride for the border today. Gather some troops.”
“Yes, sire,” Leon said, hurrying out to organize the knights.
“Thank you,” Arthur said to the messenger. “Consider yourself welcome to help yourself to lodgings for the night. The steward will provide you with a room.”
“Thank you, sire,” the messenger said.
Arthur nodded before striding from the hall to rally his troops, his only regret that Merlin had already left the castle and he wouldn’t be able to speak with him until they both returned.
--
Upon his return from several skirmishes, Arthur trudged up the stairs toward his chambers, feeling weary to the bone. He was desperate for a nice night in his own bed, futilely longing to curl around Merlin to get a good night’s sleep. After entering his chambers, he was too tired to even let the door slam behind him, choosing instead to slip in the door in the narrowest possible opening and letting it fall shut behind him with a soft click. Arthur let his sword clatter on to the table and began lifting his chainmail when he froze.
“Oh,” Arthur breathed, staring at the bed and the body currently occupying it. All he could see was a tuft of messy black hair peeking out from under the blankets on his pillow, but he’d recognize that black fluff anywhere. It was a struggle to lift the chainmail over his own head with minimal clinking, but Arthur managed to avoid waking Merlin. He quickly disrobed, carelessly tossing the remainder of his clothing on the ground and went closer to his bed where Merlin flailed a little in his sleep, knocking blankets aside and cuddling into his pillow.
Arthur smiled indulgently and brushed the hair off Merlin’s forehead, then gently tugged the blankets back up to cover Merlin’s shoulders. Arthur continued to stare as Merlin snuffled into the blanket, letting out tiny sighs as he shifted. It had been so long since Arthur had the opportunity to see Merlin in such a relaxed state, that he only just realized how tense Merlin had been in the month they’d been back.
With a pang of guilt, Arthur ran a finger down Merlin’s cheek, mentally berating himself for being a fool and pushing Merlin away when they both needed each other most.
Feeling the ache in his bones, Arthur hurried to the other side of the bed and slid in beside Merlin, pausing for a moment to gauge Merlin’s reaction. When it was clear that Merlin wasn’t going to flail at him in self-defense, Arthur shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Merlin’s waist and tugging his back flush against Arthur’s chest. Arthur had a brief moment to close his eyes, bury his nose in Merlin’s neck, and enjoy it before Merlin began to stir, squirming and rubbing against places that hadn’t been touched in the past month.
“Merlin,” Arthur half-moaned. “Go back to sleep.”
Merlin froze. “Arthur?” he whispered disbelievingly.
“Why are you surprised?” Arthur grumbled. “You’re in my bed.”
Arthur practically felt the heat from the flush that spread over Merlin’s neck. Immediately, Merlin started trying to pry Arthur’s arm off to get out of bed, but Arthur refused to budge.
“I told you to go to sleep,” Arthur complained, tightening his hold and tugging Merlin even closer.
“But - “
“Just go to sleep, Merlin,” Arthur murmured. Then more quietly, “Stay. Please.”
Merlin didn’t move for several moments before he melted back in Arthur’s embrace.
Arthur drew his hand up Merlin’s body to his neck, dragging down the sleeve of Merlin’s sleeping tunic to press a kiss to his exposed shoulder before pulling the blankets back up to cover them.
Merlin gave a contented sigh and turned his head to brush his nose against Arthur’s cheek before settling down to sleep.
“I didn’t forget, you know,” Merlin murmured after a while.
“Forget what?” Arthur asked sleepily.
“That you love me,” Merlin whispered almost inaudibly.
Arthur felt a lump rise in his throat. He slid his arm down to Merlin’s stomach and tightened his hold around Merlin as he said gruffly, “Good.”
Arthur could practically feel Merlin’s smile in the curl of his fingers around Arthur’s on Merlin’s stomach.
Arthur fell asleep with a smile on his face.
--
Merlin woke to the sensation of fingers running through his hair. He grumbled and shook his head a little, trying to dislodge the unfamiliar sensation. When he heard a familiar chuckle, Merlin’s head snapped up, staring into Arthur’s eyes.
“Arthur?” Merlin whispered, afraid of speaking too loudly and destroying the illusion.
Arthur’s eyes softened. “It’s me,” Arthur replied, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“I-I’m sorry for just getting into your bed without permission, sire,” Merlin stammered. “I didn’t mean anything by it - “
“Didn’t you?” Arthur murmured as he pressed a kiss in Merlin’s hair. Merlin’s eyelids fluttered at the intimate gesture. “You’re always welcome in my bed, Merlin.”
“That’s not how you felt this past month,” Merlin said tentatively.
“I’ve been a prat,” Arthur said gruffly, voice muffled in Merlin’s hair.
A surprised laugh bubbled out of Merlin. “I see you’ve become more comfortable with that word.”
“What can I say, a lifetime with you changes a man,” Arthur said.
“A lifetime,” Merlin murmured, tucking his head under Arthur’s chin instinctively, the way he had done for the past fifty years. “Yet here we are.”
“Here we are,” Arthur echoed.
“It’s not the same, is it?”
“No,” Arthur admitted. “But then again, we’re not the same anymore either.”
“But this is still Camelot. Your Camelot. It’s a different world, and we have different lives,” Merlin said with a sigh, making to pull away.
Arthur tightened his hold on Merlin. “Who’s to say that?” Arthur said harshly. “I’m the king, aren’t I? If I want you, then damn it, I’ll have you.” After a pause, Arthur finished uncertainly, “As long as you want me too.”
“Arthur,” Merlin murmured, sitting up in bed and pulling Arthur up with him. Merlin searched Arthur’s face, looking for any hint of doubt, finding nothing but hope. “I’ll always want you. But you have a kingdom to rule. I won’t get in the way of that.”
“You won’t,” Arthur promised. “I’ve had a lifetime with you, Merlin, and I don’t plan to stop loving you just because that life is over. I can’t go back to the man I once was. More importantly, I don’t want to go back to being the prat I used to be. We were happy in our other life. We can have that in this one too. We can have our golden age, Merlin.”
Merlin cupped Arthur’s cheek and pressed their foreheads together. “Our golden age,” Merlin vowed and pressed their lips together, beginning the cycle that would take them through this life and every one after.
They would have their golden age.
The End