reel_fic 1: Cinderella, Part Four
Title: Merlinella Part III
Author: xaritomene
Movie Prompt: "Cinderella"
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG. PG-13 if you're very sensitive?
Word Count: 19, 225
Spoilers/Warnings: Silliness? Abuse of canon characters? IDEK. Vaguely disturbing themes. Possibly. For the faint-hearted.
Author's Notes: I meant this to be a straightforward, simple fic, a little silly, a little fun, and it became a sprawling emo monster of 19 000+ words. I'm so sorry. ^_^ Split into three parts due to length only, and beta'd be the wonderful smokey2307, with the equally fantastic wickednotevil providing much-needed moral support. :D
Summary: Merlin, Gwen and Morgana have been "apprenticed" by Nimueh, but when Merlin falls into her bad books, he has to work as a servant in a house where he was previously a favoured member of the household. When Merlin hears of Nimueh's plan to enact some kind of revenge on the King through the King's son, he does everything he can to make sure this prince stays safe. Even if that does mean appearing the these balls as a girl and disappearing at midnight...
**
**
For a minute after Merlin had disappeared, it was as if the entire room was holding it's breath, before Arthur turned to Morgana and Gwen, his eyes a little wild.
"Where will he have gone?" he asked, fiercely. "Where is he?"
Gwen looked uncertainly at Morgana. "He might have gone back to the castle?"
"But we don't know where that is." She said. "We never knew the location. He'd be able to get back, but - we can't direct you there."
Arthur frowned. "He-"
"Is not currently among the greatest of our worries." Uther said, kind but firm.
"I will have no other sorcerer." Arthur said, equally firm, and was surprised when a mutter ran round the room. He had almost forgotten the other hopefuls in the room, so quiet - useless, his mind supplied - had they been all day. "He's obviously the best choice."
"We will discuss this later." Uther told him, keeping his voice low. He made short work of dismissing the other sorcerers, though Gwen and Mo stayed behind, then turned to Arthur, glancing around the room as he did so. "We'll have this discussion somewhere else, I think."
Gwen slipped her hand into Morgana's, a habit she had broken when they had been small. "I can't believe Nimueh's dead." she whispered to her, as they followed the royals out of the room.
"I can't believe Merlin killed her." She whispered back.
"He didn't mean to." Gwen excused their brother, and Morgana shook her head.
"I don't care whether he meant to or not, I'm just glad she's gone. But Merlin's going to be devastated about it."
"And alone." Gwen shivered.
"We'll find him." Morgana promised. "Arthur will help."
**
Merlin appeared in the Great Hall of the old castle with a crash, and fell to his knees, retching. Nimueh's shriek was echoing in his ears, and he lost control of his magic as he attempted to throw up. The change fell away and the castle shook as magic poured out of him, while tears of shock and relief poured down his cheeks. Curling up, strangely like the little boy he had been years ago, he shuddered through a storm of fear and relief and remorse - and even a little unexpected grief, for the children he and his sisters could have been. He never even noticed the mirror storm raging outside.
By the time he uncurled himself, his bones protesting at the move, it was nearly dawn, and the castle - always dark and forbidding - was cloaked in eerie silence. His breath hitched, imagining what it would have been like had he not killed Nimueh, if his sisters had been here... and his heart twinged with longing for Morgana and Gwen, and ached when he thought of Arthur, his eyes wide and wary as he stared back at Merlin. He didn't want to feel this lonely.
But how could he possibly go back? He'd killed someone in front of the king, and he was obviously dangerous. Only look what he'd done to Nimueh.
How could he dare inflict himself on anyone?
**
As they headed out of the ballroom, back to the ante chamber Arthur had first taken Merlin to, Arthur stopped with a cry, pouncing on something lying by the wall. "His mask!"
Uther looked back with a tiny frown. "What is it?"
"Merlin was wearing this." he said, holding up the small white mask Merlin had worn to the balls.
Uther's frown deepened in confusion. "What use will it be?" he asked carefully.
"I - don't know." he admitted, letting the hand holding the little mask fall to his side.
Uther sighed. "Well then, if I may suggest, we can continue this conversation far more comfortably in here...?"
He ushered the small party into the antechamber, and frowned at his son until he showed Morgana and a rather uncomfortable Gwen to chairs.
"What more is there to discuss?" Arthur asked, shifting impatiently. "We are going to find Merlin, and he will be my sorcerer."
"And what of these young ladies?" Uther asked, pointedly. He turned to Morgana. "My dear - I remember your father so well."
"He was a dear, dear friend." Igraine added, smiling kindly at her. "I'm only sorry we weren't given the chance to know you better as you grew up." She glanced at her son, with what would have passed as a grin in a less august person. "Arthur would have benefitted from a sister, I think."
Sat down and therefore unable to curtsey, Morgana inclined her head. "Thank you." She said, quietly. "I don't know what Gwen and I are going to do now..."
"Well, of course you will live here." Uther said, but the order sounded more hopeful than commanding.
Igraine smiled at Gwen. "Of course, you don't know us, my dear," She said, in a friendly way, "But I will never forget your bravery tonight, and the more sensible people who surround a future king, the better."
Arthur shifted, uncomfortably. "Mother." He hissed, under his breath.
Igraine gave him an innocent look. "Arthur, you know as well as I do that it's true!"
"Stop. Match-making." He said, firmly, and Gwen flushed scarlet.
"I shan't stay if that's why you want me!" she said, quickly, the flushed even harder. "Not that I'm not grateful! I just - I don't want to marry Arthur. Not that he's not very nice! But, I-"
Morgana's hand on her arm stopped her talking, and she shot her a brief, mortified look before dropping her eyes down to look at her lap.
Igraine bit her lip. "I'm so sorry...?"
"Guinevere." She whispered.
"I’m so sorry, Guinevere. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. You were so brave in front of Nimueh, it never occurred to me that I might be making you uncomfortable. Please, we'd be delighted if you would stay; it would pay back a little of the debt we owe."
"And I," Gaius said, speaking up for the first time, "Would be delighted to gain two students, should you wish to learn more. I assure you, very few apprenticeships are like the one you served under Nimueh."
Morgana spoke for both of them. "A break might be preferable." She said. "After everything that has happened..."
"The offer remains." he said, and said nothing more.
"What are we going to do about Merlin?" Arthur asked, in the brief silence which followed. "How are we going to find him?"
"He's probably gone back to the castle we lived in with Nimueh." Morgana said, quietly. "It was never home, but we've lived there so long, it will have been instinct, I think."
"Can you take us there?" Arthur asked, eagerly, but Igraine frowned.
"Arthur, Morgana and Guinevere will need to rest." She said, reprovingly. "It's been a long night, for all of us."
He gave both of them a cursory little bow. "I apologise." He said, tersely. "I - am concerned for him."
Gwen touched his arm gently. "He's our brother." She said, kindly. "We're worried as well."
"And we will find him." Morgana agreed, a ring of promise in her words.
**
Arthur barely slept that night, and chafed through the delays Uther imposed on them the next morning; breakfast, a conversation with Gaius about how best to reach the castle Morgana and Gwen talked of...too many delays and worried before he could get back to Merlin.
Something about the other boy just - enthralled him, and he couldn’t have said what it was. As Linella, Arthur had been fascinated by him, the first girl he’d ever felt any real attraction to; and then he’d been so interesting and funny, and they’d fitted together so well... and then Merlin had proved to be just as beautiful as a boy as when he was a girl. And no one had ever dared talk to Arthur the way Merlin had; he was unique.
Arthur was possibly a little bit enthralled, and a little bit in love, as much as he could be in love after three nights spent together.
But really, it was no wonder that Merlin’s face appeared in his dreams whenever he tried to sleep.
It seemed to take forever the next morning - Gaius insisted on baths and breakfast and wearing proper clothes, and preparing properly for all eventualities - but finally, Gaius consented to let them 'hop' the way Morgana described; Arthur, eager to be off, to be able to apologise to the other boy, hadn't thought of the method, but for the few brief seconds it lasted, he found it horribly uncomfortable - like needles being dragged across his skin. The castle they appeared outside did nothing to make him feel better; enormous and forbidding, it was made out of a stone so dark it seemed almost black. Evidently, it had not been built for beauty; Arthur, thinking like a soldier, assessed the blocky, practical lines and judged that it would be easy to defend and difficult to live in.
He thought of Merlin, off-balance and upset, having nowhere better to flee to than this - mausoleum - and of all three sorcerers, forced to grow up in this place.
Things had to be set right.
"You grew up here?" He asked Gwen, quietly, and she nodded, shivering. Awkwardly, he patted her shoulder. "I'm sorry." he said, and she offered him a weak smile.
"I hope we find Merlin too." she said, answering the thought and not the words.
He managed a weak smile of his own. "I hope so too."
The great entrance hall was empty, as were all the rooms they came across on the ground floor. Arthur asked some questions about the equipment they found in the kitchen - brushes and mops and pans, all normal things to find in an ordinary house, even a castle, but not in the home of several powerful sorcerers - and Morgana's eyes darkened.
"When we were younger," She said, slowly, "Merlin and Nimueh had - a falling out. As punishment, he was excluded from her lessons, and made to do our chores."
“That’s what she meant about not having taught him for years?”
Morgana nodded, then shook herself, as if shaking off the memories, her voice echoing eerily in the stone room. "It's not a story to tell here." She said, simply, and Arthur caught the glance she gave Gwen.
Finally, it was determined that the castle was very much empty, though both Morgana and Gwen insisted that Merlin had been there very recently. Arthur almost crumpled with disappointment. His attraction to the other boy - initially girl - had been instantaneous, and the thought of not finding him worried him more than he would ever have admitted.
He was jerked out of his thoughts by Gaius' voice. "Since Merlin is not here," he said, quietly, "I suggest we leave. I can't imagine any of us have much desire to stay here." He turned to the girls. "Can you think of anywhere else he might have gone?"
"His village was called-"
"Ealdor." Gaius finished for them, and they both stared. His lips twitched, wryly. "Another story not to be told here. Very well," he decided, finally. "We will go there. If, however," he gave Arthur a hard glance, "He is not there, we will return to the palace, and gain a clearer idea of how we are going to find him."
**
Merlin had woken early the next morning, unable to sleep without seeing Nimueh's face, and wandered aimlessly through the castle, trying to think about what he could do next. He dismissed his first instinct - to finally return to Ealdor after so long - because he didn't want to endanger the people he had known as a child. Really, the safest thing he could do, he thought, rather numbly, was disappear somewhere wild and remote where he couldn't hurt anyone, but with loneliness already a near-permanent ache in the pit of his stomach, he couldn't quite bear the idea of isolating himself completely.
The safest idea, then, was to find some tiny, remote little village, and make a living for himself there. Every village needed a doctor, after all, and he could insinuate himself like that. He could keep his magic under control, he was sure.
Unable to stay in the silent castle any longer, he pictured the sort of place he wanted to be in his mind's eye, and let magic fill the picture. He disappeared from the gallery just as Arthur, Gaius, Morgana and Gwen appeared outside.
*
No one in Ealdor had seen or heard from Merlin since he was taken away by Nimueh, aged seven, and it was a rather dispirited group who returned to Camelot, at about midday. Uther was unavailable, but Igraine was waiting for them when they arrived. One look at the group, and she swept them up to her private sitting room, asking a servant to bring tea as quickly as possible. Until it arrived, she talked lightly of other things, but when the servant had left, and she could busy herself with preparing the tea, she turned to the subject in hand.
"I take it, Merlin wasn't there?" she said, delicately, pouring a cup and handing it to Gwen. "Help yourself to milk and sugar, dear."
"No. And he wasn't in the village where he was born." Gaius said, heavily.
"How do you know so much about him?" Arthur asked, curiously.
Gaius frowned. "I know very little about him." he said, repressively.
"More than you should." Morgana pointed out.
He sighed. "His mother - Hunith - was my sister. When Nimueh's partner died, Hunith left Camelot, and refused to return, no matter what I said. Of course, had I known about Merlin... I would never have let her be so stubborn. Evidently, Hunith had recently suffered a similar loss, and found the reminder - unbearable."
“You didn’t know?” Gwen asked, quietly, her gentle voice unknowingly disapproving. Morgana was frowning as well. The idea of any of them not knowing that their brother or sister had lost a loved one was evidently anathema to them.
Gaius flushed and looked away. "I had been so distracted.” He said, heavily. “Nimueh and I were the highest ranking sorcerers in the land and I had so much to do... I knew Hunith was distracted, but...” He broke himself off. “What’s done is done.” He started again, finally. “When she left, Hunith didn't stay in contact. I wasn't even aware that she had died until a few years ago. The villagers told me about her son, but by then it was far too late." His face twisted momentarily. "It was probably the sort of thing Nimueh would have found hugely amusing. She may even have known."
"We will find him." Gwen said, firmly. "And you'll be able to tell him all about it."
"How, though?" Arthur asked, frustrated. "Where could he possibly be? Why would he disappear like this at all?"
"None of us have ever used our magic for anything but hypothetical situations. Killing someone like that isn’t something Merlin will be comfortable with." Morgana said, speaking confidently. No one knew Merlin better than Gwen and herself.
"Do you still have that mask?" Gwen asked Arthur, very softly.
He frowned, more in confusion than anything else. "Yes?"
"Why not use that?" She asked. "We can all go round the villages, trying to find Merlin - he'll be somewhere isolated, I'm sure. Morgana and I will recognise him - his magic, if not his face, because he might be disguised - but if you have that mask, you'll be able to tell if it's him. Advertise that you're looking for a sorcerer and make sure everyone tries it on."
"Guinevere, it was made for a girl." he said, impatiently. "It's not going to fit him."
"And the boy who knows that..."
"Anyone could see that it's a girl's size." Arthur pointed out, more than a little frustrated. "It's so small and delicate."
"A simple illusion will deal with that." Gaius said, looking keenly at Gwen. "And it's a good idea. With the three of you searching the countryside - two with the aid of magic - you have a far better chance than not of finding Merlin."
Arthur frowned. "It seems - unlikely." he said, carefully.
"Do you have any better ideas?" Morgana asked, sharply.
"Well... no. But it seems - unlikely." he said. "Do I say we know his name? Or pretend we don't? Do I say why we're looking for him? Do-"
"Don't say his name." Gwen said. "Say - you're looking for a sorcerer who left the court before the prince's decision could be made, and you want him to try on this mask. Morgana and I will do the same, but we'll say we have some - magic test we can do."
"Can't you - you know - reach out and find him?" Arthur asked. "I mean, you knew that he'd been at that castle recently - why can't you tell where he is now?"
"We never needed to." Gwen explained. "We'd recognise his signature anywhere, but not over a distance. The furthest away we've ever been to each other was the other side of the castle."
Arthur slumped in his chair, and Igraine gave him a sympathetic look. "When are you planning to start?" She asked, gently.
"As soon as possible." Arthur said, immediately.
"Tomorrow at the earliest." Gaius said, with a quelling glance. "Both girls must be tired from all this - 'popping' they've been doing..."
"We call it 'evaporating'." Morgana said, a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth, a faint twinkle of mischief in her eyes when she glanced at Gwen, who smiled back, but turned to Gaius with earnest eyes.
"And we're not even the smallest bit tired." She assured him. "We'd like to start as soon as possible."
"My dear..."
"He's our brother. Didn't you search for his mother when she went missing?" Wordlessly, Gaius nodded. "Well, then - you know how we feel."
He was silent for a long moment, then nodded again. "A break, though, I think." He said, finally. "Nothing will help Merlin less than you getting exhaustion."
Morgana started to protest, then thought better of it. "An hour." She said. "Will that do?"
Gaius nodded. "An hour's rest, then we will set out."
"'We', Gaius?" Igraine said, raising an eyebrow.
"Uther knows he can always contact me." Gaius told her. "And I - must help. I imagine if you had lost Arthur, you would feel much the same."
**
The tiny village of Noirmont was high up in the mountains above Camelot herself; on a clear day, Merlin was told, you could see the windows of the castle shining. Although the sight of this was legendary, the people of Noirmont were the kind who didn't hold with these new-fangled glass windows - what was wrong with a good fresh breeze, anyway? Nothing like it for clearing out the cobwebs.
In short, it was perfect for Merlin. Very few people ever came here, and those who did either had a definite purpose - such as the shearers who came every year to help with the sheep, or the pedlars who appeared every now and then - or were regarded as dangerous interlopers until such time as they were able to prove they had skills useful to the village.
For the last week or so, Merlin had been wandering aimlessly through the mountains - the first village he had arrived in had run him out for his unusual method of travel. Since he'd materialised in their main square, he could hardly blame them for that.
The next little village, and the next village after that, and all the ones he had been to since, had sorcerers of their own to guard against thatch-fires and to stop food going bad, and to perform all the little every day charms people used and needed. But in Noirmont, he arrived just in time to stop half the flock of the village's prized mountain sheep being crushed in a rock fall; the villagers couldn't do enough for him.
Their sorcerer, handily, was an old man, who bore no grudge against a younger man - a much younger man - appearing to usurp his place. In fact, he seemed rather grateful that they would be looked after.
"Good, simple people." He said, smiling, pale blue eyes fixed sightlessly somewhere over Merlin's shoulder. "And they deserve the protection we can give them. Not like some places."
Merlin shadowed him for a few days, getting used to the every-day duties of the standard sorcerer, and soon found that the problem came - as before - not from performing the necessary spells, but from keeping their strength to an absolute minimum. A spell to prevent thatch-fire had stopped any fires being lit in the house at all, and a charm to keep children obedient in moments of danger left the children unable to question any direct order at all, until Merlin lifted the charm and reworked it.
It took a couple of weeks, but he did eventually settle into a kind of rhythm. He lived with the old sorcerer, and found that the steady rhythm of looking after someone was far more soothing than he could ever have imagined - doing chores for Nimueh was not something anyone would ever have described as 'soothing' - and if he sometimes dreamt of his sisters, or of Arthur, reliving the argument they’d had or embarrassing dreams of moments that had never, ever happened... well, they were only dreams.
He distracted himself with his chores; doing them by hand was relaxing; doing them by magic helped with his control. The old sorcerer guided him gently through each day, and it was a real relief to be able to give up the lead for a while and take a very definite backseat.
Occasionally, he did have to go further up into the mountains for a couple of days, and let off steam - conjuring dragons and storms and fires that burnt without burning - to stop bored, mischievous magic from paving the streets of Noirmont with gold or turning the village well into wine. But either no one noticed, or no one minded. Their new sorcerer was accepted, with all his quirks.
All the excitement of his arrival had died down by the time the blond prince arrived in the village.
**
Arthur had been travelling for nearly a month now, heading further and further up into the mountains in search of Merlin. Sometimes, he was certain he could almost feel the other boy, but the feeling always slipped away before he could be sure, and after three weeks, he was starting to lose confidence, if not hope.
Even the other three sorcerers hadn't found Merlin.
"Excuse me, sir," he said, politely to the first person he saw, "But what is this village?"
"It's called Noirmont, sir." The man told him, politely. "Can I help your lordship?"
He swung himself down off his horse. "I'm looking for a sorcerer." he said, equally polite.
"We've two here in Noirmont, sir." The man said, evidently proud of what he saw as his village's accomplishment. "Old and young."
"Did either of them attend the ball?" Arthur pressed. "To find a new court sorcerer?"
The man frowned, and shook his head. "We didn't hear of any ball." he paused. "Young 'un may have done." He added with a shrug. "Only arrived here coupla weeks ago."
Hope surged, and Arthur carefully forced it down. "Might I see him?" He asked.
"I can ask for you." The man told him, giving him a quick, appraising glance. "This way, sir."
The little house he led him to was, unusually, made out of stone, and kept extremely clean. It was also extremely empty, and Arthur's guide turned to him with a shrug. "Probably out on their rounds, sir. Can you wait?"
"Do you know where they'll be now?" Arthur asked, hopefully, but the man shook his head.
"Could be anywhere. Best to wait here for them."
It felt like he was so close, and it was difficult to wait for the two sorcerers to come home; but after so long a wait, and so many disappointments, it was ridiculous to get his hopes up. And, Arthur thought, deprecatingly, it was ridiculous to be so antsy in what might - and only might - be the last hour or so of waiting. Almost as ridiculous as being so desperate to find someone whose real face he'd never even seen.
It took a great deal of effort to sit quietly outside the sorcerers' house, holding the reins of his poor, tired horse and keep all hope and excitement inside, but it was even harder to stay still when two men came into sight along the little road leading to the house. One was an old man, bent and white haired, leaning on a tall, skinny young man, dark-haired just as Linella had been. From this distance, it was impossible to see anything of the young man's features, except a pair of ridiculous ears, which seemed, frankly, far too large for his head.
When they got a little nearer, Arthur stood and walked towards them, then bowed a couple of feet from him.
"Who's there?" The old man said, his voice warm but weak.
THe younger man - Merlin? - was staring at him with wide eyes, and Arthur was fairly certain he had his answer before he'd asked the question.
"I am Prince Arthur." he said, clearly. "I'm looking for a sorcerer."
"Then you'll do twice as well here as anywhere else." The old man chuckled. "I am Anhora, and this is my assistant, Emrys."
Arthur raised an eyebrow at the other boy. "Emrys?" He asked, quietly, but the dark boy just shrugged, and Anhora never even heard him say it.
"What did you want with a sorcerer?" Anhora asked gesturing for Arthur to fall in step with him. Turning, Arthur allowed the old man to lay a hand on his arm for support, and launched into his story, keeping one eye on Merlin at Anhora's side.
"I'm actually looking for one specific sorcerer." He said, carefully. "One who came to the balls to find the new court sorcerer." He had to make sure to sell this well; who knew what Merlin could be thinking and feeling at the moment, and the last thing Arthur wanted to do was scare the other boy off. "He saved my life, and I can't think of anyone else I would want to be my court sorcerer."
Emrys, the other side of Anhora, gave him a wary look. "What did he save your life from?"
The feeling of being near Merlin was strong and steady, but Arthur bit back on the retort he wanted to give to that. "An evil sorceress." He said, quietly. "She wanted revenge."
"Are you sure she was evil?" Emrys' voice sounded calm, but there was a wealth of meaning in the words, and Anhora's hand tightened momentarily on his assistant's arm.
"She had good reason to want revenge." Arthur admitted, keeping his voice even. "But the things she had done made it impossible to feel pity for her."
"Such as what?"
"She kidnapped three children," Arthur said, quietly, "And would have ruined their lives. And she performed dark rites to increase her power..."
From the quick glance Emrys shot him, he hadn't known that, but he simply nodded. "I'm glad her death was justified in your eyes." He said, quietly.
"I never said she died, Merlin." Arthur said, softly.
For one long moment, Merlin froze, then sighed. "I'm happy here." He said, rather plaintively, but Anhora was already speaking.
"Emrys, you're wasted here." he said, warmly. "Protecting Noirmont when you could be protecting our whole country... a cruel waste."
"But when you- die..."
"Noirmont will send for another sorcerer. Keeping you to ourselves..." He smiled, rheumily. "Would be like having a warhorse pull a plough. Neither is suited to the other, and the job is done badly." He detached his other arm from Arthur's to pat Merlin's hand. "I hope you've found a little rest and comfort here." He said, kindly. "But it's time to go home."
"I don't have a home." Merlin protested, weakly.
"We'd like to give you one." Arthur said. "At Camelot."
At long last, they reached the house, having been hindered by Anhora's slow steps, and Arthur rummaged for a moment in his saddle-bags, finally pulling out the now-grubby little mask.
"This will fit only Merlin." He said, repeating the lie he'd told so many times now, holding it out to Merlin, who took it gingerly, pulling a face.
"Rubbish." He said, frowning. "We both know it won't."
"It would never fit you?" Arthur pressed.
"Well." He shrugged. "It might if I was a girl."
Without quite meaning to, Arthur pulled him into a hug. "Guinevere and Morgana will be glad to see you." he said, pulling back almost immediately and straightening his tunic, movements stiff with awkwardness.
"I'm happy they're safe." Merlin agreed, equally awkward. "I've missed them."
Neither of them dared ask what they were thinking. How ridiculous would it sound to start talking about love to a complete stranger?
"Well - I suppose you'll want to say goodbye and so on to everyone here." Arthur said, still uncomfortable. "But do try to be quick. Even without stopping at every village, it's still a week's journey back to Ca."
Merlin cracked a smile at that. "Nonsense." he said. "We can be there in a matter of seconds."
Arthur pulled a face. "Oh, yes. Your apparating trick, or whatever you call it."
"Evaporating." Merlin corrected.
“Whatever you like.” Arthur agreed. “Now, your goodbyes?”
**
Arthur hung back a little as Merlin greeted his sisters again, watching as Merlin accepted all the hugs and scolds and tears bestowed upon him with equanimity - even with a few tears of his own - and while Uther and Igraine thanked him, and made much of him, and while Gaius introduced himself properly. The induction ceremony - it had taken the combined efforts of all the people involved to convince Merlin to take the position of court sorcerer, but he did eventually - went off perfectly, but Prince Arthur’s distance from the new sorcerer he had insisted on was noted by many. The only thing that caught the attention of the gossips more was that the new sorcerer seemed desperate for his prince to take notice of him.
In fact, though, Arthur hung back from Merlin for the next few weeks, taking the opportunity to distance himself while Merlin was busy finding his feet in the palace, and coming to terms with his new duties as his, Arthur’s, sorcerer, and starting lessons with Gaius and his sisters. Arthur didn’t want to push himself forward and make things awkward for Merlin; what if Merlin worked out how he was feeling? This stupid, ridiculous bubble of happiness and pain when he was around Merlin never seemed to fade, and he couldn’t bear to have it broken.
The weeks passed achingly slowly, for both of them, neither able to exchange a word without pain, wondering whether or not the other felt the same way, and not daring to ask in case the answer was not what they wanted to hear.
Finally, though, Merlin sought Arthur out, eventually cornering him on the same balcony on which Arthur had started teaching ‘Linella’ to dance. “You’ve been avoiding me.” He said, very simply. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, of course not.” Arthur said, rather sharply.
“Oh, good,” Merlin said, with a tiny smile. “I’d hate to think I’d offended you.”
Arthur couldn’t think of a response to that, and simply shrugged, looking out over the gardens. The cracked, ruined marble from the ballroom was being used to make a path through the lawns to the lake, and the ballroom itself was being refloored. If Arthur kept his mind on facts like that, he could maybe forget that Merlin was at his side, staring at him with wide blue eyes.
“I never apologised to you, did I?” Arthur said, abruptly, and Merlin jumped a little.
“What for?” he said, eventually, frowning.
“The argument we had. That night. I was - very unfair.” He said, stiffly.
Merlin considered it for a long moment. “I wasn’t very fair either.” He said, fairly, then shrugged. “I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done.”
“You haven’t done anything!” Arthur snapped. “I just-”
“What?” Merlin said, softly, when Arthur didn’t go on. “You just what?”
“Nothing.” Arthur said, tiredly. “I’ve forgotten what I was going to say.”
“You searched for me.” Merlin said, so softly that Arthur had to crane to hear the words and wasn’t sure he should, and whether he wanted to hear them. “And I wandered for the longest time why you bothered. And then...” he paused for the barest moment. “I have something to tell you, Arthur.” He said, formally, and Arthur didn’t bother telling him to use his title. Something told him Merlin would never remember it anyway.
An irrational fear tugged at him that Merlin was going to ask to be allowed to leave Camelot again; however much having him near like this hurt, it was better than not having him here at all. “What is it?” he asked, licking his lips, and looking back out over the gardens.
“I know I haven’t been here long,” Merlin began, and Arthur’s heart clenched, “And I hardly know you,” it relaxed a little, and Arthur began to really listen, curious now. “But - I... it’s very silly.”
“What is?” Arthur whispered.
“Ever since I met you - well, not ever since, but when I really got to know you...” Merlin rambled, nervously. “I’ve felt - and I don’t know whether it’s just because I’m not, you know, used to normal relationships, but I’ve felt...”
“Merlin, for the love of God, what have you felt?” Arthur demanded, urgently.
“I’ve felt like I might love you.” He said, quiet and firm, meeting Arthur’s eyes levelly.
“Oh.” A smile tugged the corners of his mouth up; the bubble he’d been so afraid would shatter inside him seemed to have risen to his chest, lodging in his throat, and making it difficult to say much. “Oh, good.” He managed. He knew he was smiling like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. “I - good.” He repeated. “Because, you know... I think I might love you too.”
For a moment, they stood on the balcony, grinning like idiots, until their hands smacked together as each reached for the other. Their first, wonderful kiss was messy and clumsy, and utterly perfect. Roses bloomed in the gardens, and a new fountain suddenly appeared for good down by the lake, but neither of them knew any of this.
All they knew was that this, whatever it was, however suddenly it had happened, felt a lot like happily ever after.
**
THE END! *wipes sweat from brow* Sorry for being so terminally long winded... O.o