Fic: The Dragon was a Babble-mouth [Merlin/Arthur]

[jade_dragoness]

Title: The Dragon was a Babble-mouth
Author: J.D. aka jade_dragoness
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin & Arthur/Damn Near Everyone in Albion
Summary: Merlin wonders if anyone else has talked to the dragon and sparks off something unexpected.
Spoilers: references up to episode 1x11
Word Count: 6,700
Disclaimer: Never ever will be mine. *sadness*
A/N: Feedback is hugely welcomed. Also, I want to give huge thanks to wrennette, x_bellaitalia_x, and neptuneskisses for looking this over and clearing up my mistakes. I somehow got insanely lucky in getting them and they were very helpful.
*-*-*-*

“You know the Dragon?” asked Merlin, his expression shocked.

“Of course, I know the Dragon.” Arthur shot him an exasperated look and returned to hacking at the practice dummy with his practice sword, whose dull edge prevented him from turning the wooden target into instant kindling. “Where do I live? And where is the Dragon held?”

“The castle. And…err…under the castle,” answered Merlin.

“Exactly. You didn‘t think there wasn‘t a point in the entire time it’s been there where I didn’t go down for a look?” Arthur’s expression grew amused, and he flicked a sweaty blond bang off his forehead. “I admit it was easier when I was younger, before Father posted the guards. So, I haven‘t been down in quite a few years.”

Merlin was still stunned. “Wha-What did you talk about?”

He was fascinated. Honestly, he thought he was the only one who was interested enough in the dragon to talk to him and listen to what he said.

Arthur wrinkled his nose in thought. “Oh, justice, laws, and something about my destiny as the future king of Camelot. I don‘t really remember. It‘s not like I didn‘t already know that. I didn‘t need a flying reptile to tell me about it.”

“That‘s all?” asked Merlin, his shoulders slumping in disappointment.

Arthur turned to him, then an odd expression flashed across his face, a mix of hope, dread and something else that Merlin missed, before shifting over to his arrogant Prince Prat look.

“Yes, that’s all.” Arthur raised his eyebrows at Merlin. “What‘s this sudden interest in the beast anyway?”

Merlin’s eyes widened again, this time in panic. He smiled nervously, “Oh, just curious. It‘s hard to believe there‘s a large dragon under the castle. It‘s not like you ever hear it.”

Arthur gave him a hard stare.

Merlin tried not to squirm.

Arthur’s mouth finally quirked up in amusement and he turned back to his sword practice. Merlin let loose a slow silent breath. He was a horrible liar, but every once in a while he could get away with it if it was at least a half-truth.

He had been wondering if Arthur, or anyone else, had ever talked to the dragon. He’d been in Camelot for months and he had yet to hear anyone talk about him. No passing remarks, no off-hand comments. Not even any grumbles from the guards about pulling dragon guarding duty. It was driving him crazy with curiosity.

If the dragon hadn’t called out to him those first days in Camelot, he would never had known there was a large magical being chained to the rocky foundations of the castle. It was eerie.

That’s why he finally asked Arthur. It wasn’t like he could ask the king, talk about a sure fire way to get his head chopped off. And if he asked Gaius, well, then he’d only end up being questioned as to why he had brought it up.

Merlin did not trust himself to lie his way out of that conversation. Gaius knew him too well and he would have Merlin confessing about his visits down to the dragon’s prison before Merlin even realized what he was saying. It was spooky how Gaius could do that sometimes.

So, Merlin learning that Arthur had once talked to the dragon made him rather curious to find out what exactly had been said between the two.

Asking the dragon proved fruitless, he only laughed and flew off. Pretty much the same thing he did every other day when he wasn‘t leaping out to scare years off his life, Merlin grumbled to himself.

So, curiosity ate at Merlin until enough time passed that he actually forgot all about it.

*-*-*-*

Arthur, on the other hand, found himself thinking harder and harder about those memories, trying to dredge up the details of the talks he had with the dragon. He only really remembered two things with any clarity.

The dragon said that he would be the greatest king in Albion history, which was a rather heady thing for an eight year old to hear. And that he would only be able to accomplish it once he found the person who made him whole. The one who complemented and strengthened him. Only then would he fulfill his destiny.

To an eight year old, this had been a rather disappointing and disconcerting idea. At that age, he had thought girls could curse you with a kiss. Of course, then he’d grown up and found out that women could curse you with a kiss.

He did remember his young self demanding to know if this person was going to be his future queen only to be uproariously laughed at and told that he’d know.

He’d refused visit the dragon for a month out of pique.

But what the dragon had said had stuck with him, and years after he’d been caught sneaking down to the caves, years of not getting to talk to the dragon for all that time, those words remained ingrained in his memory needing only a trigger to be brought to the surface again. It had made him look closely at people around him and made him aware of how they made him feel.

When his father brought Morgana to Camelot, Arthur had thought that she was the one, for about a week, before realizing that he got more of a kick out of arguing with her and making her flush with fury than in trying to kiss her.

His search came to an abrupt end at the age of sixteen though. His father had made it clear that while he was free to bed whomever he chose, when it came to marriage he would serve the best interests of Albion. It had bitterly disappointed him. It had made him blot out the memory of the dragon’s words.

Until Merlin’s questions had stirred them up again, and now he sat in the great hall, his father enjoying his supper and contemplating the idea that maybe there was someone who could make him feel whole without them having to be the person that he would have to marry. Someone who he could care for and would care for him with no other ulterior motives.

It made him consider other noble marriages, where often both spouses would seek comfort in the arms of others yet they still produced heirs for their lands.

His father had been lucky to have married someone he’d also loved and who in turn loved him. The chances of a nobleman getting so lucky were low enough to be laughable. For a man who was the highest noble in the land the possibility was virtually nonexistent.

And he’d been told that this was something he could hope to find in someone. Arthur couldn’t help but want it.

Arthur pulled himself out of his own thoughts and watched his father cut a side of roast venison, the flesh dark at the surface and pinker towards the center. He considered his father, who refused to remarry, risking the future of his kingdom on only one heir, even after all these years, out of devoted memory to his beloved wife. He wondered if it was really so selfish to want a similar chance.

“Father,” Arthur asked, his tone low and contemplative. “How did you know that you loved my mother?”

Uther looked up sharply at his son from his plate. He chewed his mouthful of meat before asking, “You rarely ask about her anymore. What brought this on?”

There was a pained array of lines creasing Uther’s forehead and mouth. It made him look older and weary. The memory of his loss darkened his eyes.

Arthur looked away from his father and down at his plate. He poked his now cold meal with his belt-knife for lack of anything better to do. It was exactly that reaction of his father’s that kept Arthur from asking too many questions about his mother no matter how high his curiosity about her burned. Over the years he had realized that his questions were like sticking his fingers in a slowly healing wound. It only brought pain and slowed the healing even further. So, he’d stopped.

“It was something someone asked me. It made me think of it.” Arthur tried to keep his answer vague. Uther always got this bemused and incredulous expression whenever Arthur mentioned Merlin these days.

“Hmm,” Uther picked up his wine goblet and took a deep draw. It wasn’t until he’d drained it that he spoke again, “It was shortly after we met, only a few weeks before the wedding. I hadn‘t even known if we‘d get along and we decided to test it before we said our marriage oaths. So, I took her in my arms and kissed her. ”

Arthur looked up at the nostalgic tone in Uther’s voice. His eyes looked off into the distance, and Arthur could see a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It rather startled Arthur. He wasn’t used to seeing memories of his mother trigger happiness in his father. There was usually too much grief weighing him down for him to be capable of it.

Arthur stilled as an idea unfolded in his mind.

He grinned.
*-*-*-*

Merlin would later blame Gaius as to why he hadn’t heard of Arthur’s latest insanity in time to stop it. He’d spent most of that evening picking some night-blooming flowers whose roots where perfect for helping with digestion. So, he hadn’t actually been in the castle at the time Arthur had gone apparently crazy.

It took Gwen catching him just as he got back, to fill him in on what was going on with Arthur, for him to learn of it.

“He‘s kissing everyone in the castle?” Merlin yelped. He nearly dropped the basket and only a quick snatch by his hands kept it from spilling all over the hallway floor.

Gwen’s mouth widened in a smile at Merlin’s wide-eyed expression. “No. Not everyone. Just anyone who‘s unmarried.”

That didn’t reassure Merlin at all. For all he knew, Arthur was under another spell. Again.

She added, “But he only kisses them once.”

Merlin was baffled, that didn‘t sound like any spell he‘d read about. He hid his face in his free hand and groaned, “And what would be the point of that? He‘s gone crazy. I knew I should have told Gaius I‘d get his flowers another night.”

Gwen shrugged, her smile still clung to her mouth.

Merlin shook his head and started walking off to Gaius’ rooms. He stopped abruptly and spun back to Gwen.

“Wait! He hasn‘t kissed you, has he?”

Gwen’s eyes widened at this. “What? No. That‘s ridiculous…I mean. He‘s handsome but I‘m not interested in that.” Gwen closed her eyes as she realized what she’d just said. “I mean, I‘m not at all interested in Arthur.” She shot Merlin a peek through her lashes.

Merlin nodded absentmindedly, and missed it. “Good. That‘s good. Um-” He gave her a helpless smile and held up the basket of flower roots. “I need to get these to Gaius.”

“Okay,” Gwen said. She watched him go before shaking her head at herself and returned to her lady.

Merlin didn’t waste time dropping off the plants to Gaius then set about tracking down Arthur as soon as possible. He’d expected to find Arthur surrounded by giggling girls only to find the prince back in his own rooms.

Alone. And brooding.

He did that a lot, noted Merlin. He hadn’t thought that spending the night kissing everyone in the castle would be the sort of thing that would make Arthur so sulky.

There were times when Arthur baffled him more than the most complex spell. At least, after a while and a lot a practice he could get the spell to work.

With Arthur, every time he would get something figured out about the prince, he would do something twice as baffling or stubbornly pigheaded. The only thing that kept Merlin from going mad was the reassurance, in the form of rather constant sarcastic comments from Arthur, that he drove the prince just as crazy.

Still, this thing about kissing every unmarried person in Camelot was new.

Merlin eyed Arthur for a moment, considered questioning him and decided to wait since Arthur was clearly stuck in a bad mood. He was never rational when he was like that. Merlin might as well try questioning Uther for all he‘d get from Arthur.

Merlin looked around the room and absent-mindedly started straightening the coat, and other clothes Arthur had scattered around the room in the few hours he’d been away. For someone so fastidious, he sure made messes rather quickly.

He could feel the weight of Arthur’s gaze on his neck. He ignored it.

“So, aren‘t you going to ask me?” Arthur finally asked. He really wasn’t the patient type outside of long hunts where it was necessary for success, Merlin noted with amusement.

“Ask you what, sire?” Merlin kept his voice as innocent as possible. Fortunately, he had a lot of experience in this.

“You know what, Merlin. I‘m sure someone from the servant staff has told you.”

Merlin bit his tongue and when he finally looked at Arthur, he tried to look baffled. He was better at deceiving people when he didn’t talk. It was the talking that always tripped him up when it came to lying.

Arthur was eyeing him intently. And wearing an expression that Merlin couldn’t decipher.

It made a rather nervous flutter settle itself in Merlin’s stomach.

“This is all your fault you know,” Arthur finally grumbled and crossed his arms.

Merlin blinked and genuine shock made his eyes widen. “What?”

“If you hadn‘t brought up the dragon, I wouldn‘t have-” Arthur cut himself off abruptly, “Oh, never mind.”

The curiosity that had abetted resurged at the mention of the dragon. “No, tell me.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin’s demanding tone.

Merlin gave him an exasperated look. “You‘re being maddeningly cryptic…sire.”

Arthur smiled at that. Merlin tried not to glare and failed.

“I don‘t know if I should tell you now,” smirked Arthur.

Merlin‘s glare intensified. Frustrated, he gathered the dirty clothes into a pile and picked them up to get out of the door. If he stayed he’d yell at Arthur, and he didn’t really feel like ending up in the stocks anytime soon. Ever since the famine, people had been more conservative with their food and were more likely to throw dirt and small stones. It made him miss the potatoes.

“Wait! Alright. Don‘t pout. I‘ll tell you!” said Arthur, laughing.

Merlin dropped the clothes where he’d paused and went back to sit next to Arthur. His eyes were eager.

An uncomfortable expression crossed Arthur’s face. “This is what the Dragon said, alright. These are not my words. I’d never say something so…” Arthur wrinkled his nose, “..so, girly.”

“And?” Merlin prompted, after a moment of Arthur being silent.

“The dragon said,” Arthur said. “That I‘d be a great king, once I found the person who made me whole.”

Merlin blinked in surprise. Honestly, he hadn’t thought that this was what the dragon had said to Arthur. He’d expected something more epic. Predictions about great battles to come, something that would be of more concern to a prince who would become the king.

Arthur grimaced, “Yes, I know. It‘s ridiculous.”

“I don‘t think it is,” said Merlin. Instead, he was stuck wondering if he should tell Arthur what the dragon had told him. That he was the other side of Arthur. That he was the one that made who him whole. But even thinking that in his own head sounded incredibly arrogant and more than a little silly. How could he explain how he knew? Merlin couldn’t say anything. Not without explaining everything.

Arthur eyed him warily, as if expecting laughter. But Merlin couldn’t even think up a sarcastic comment. It was too close to his own situation for him to mock it.

“So, how does that explain your kissing everyone in Camelot?” Merlin finally asked.

“I knew someone told you!” crowed Arthur in triumph.

Merlin mentally cursed, as he realized he’d been caught. Arthur hadn’t actually mentioned kissing had he?

“It was something my father said,” admitted Arthur. “It was how he learned that he loved my mother.”

“Oh,” said Merlin. He hadn‘t expected to learn that about the king. “But what if it doesn‘t work like that?”

“It will work,” Arthur said firmly. “Get me something to eat would you? Kissing so many people has given me an appetite.”

“Yes, sire,” sighed Merlin.

“And don‘t forget to take those dirty clothes with you!” ordered Arthur before Merlin got out the door.

Merlin rolled his eyes yet again and picked up the dropped pile.
*-*-*-*

At first Merlin was rather amused at Arthur’s antics. However the longer it went on, the more often Merlin caught sight of Arthur kissing a maid or young man, the more irritated he found himself growing. He’d even caught Arthur kissing the stable boys once!

The same stable boys that Merlin had to keep Arthur from bullying on more than one occasion when the prince thought they were being too slow in saddling his horse for a hunt.

The longer this madness went on, the unhappier Merlin found himself becoming. More and more he felt as if he was wearing Arthur’s armor, feeling cold, weighed down and oddly bruised beneath his skin. It didn’t help that Arthur was expanding his kissing expedition to people outside the castle. At least before, Merlin had hope that he’d run out of people and then the madness would stop.

Now, he just found himself wishing that Arthur would catch something. Something disgusting but non-fatal. Maybe then, he’d stop.

Or maybe, Merlin pondered, there was something in Gaius’ myriad of medicinal herbs and potions that could help. After all, Arthur couldn’t kiss anyone if he was vomiting, could he?

Merlin had to resist that temptation more than once. He rather thought he deserved accolades and songs sung about his patience with Arthur. Any other servant would have committed treason by now, Merlin was sure of this.

It didn’t stop him from wishing, though. Or silently begging to a deeply amused Uther to make him stop it.

It had rather surprised Merlin how relaxed Uther viewed the entire thing. He’d been sure there would be a lot more yelling and maybe even the death threats that Uther liked so much. But the king was just laughing at every new report of Arthur’s kissing quest.

Merlin wondered, more than once, if whatever lunacy had caught Arthur had also tightened it’s grip on Uther. If so, they were all doomed.

Unless the crown could be passed on to Morgana. At least she seemed to deem the whole thing as beneath her and regarded any news of Arthur with disdain. Okay, sure there was some laughter, but mostly it was disdain. On the whole, Merlin approved.

It wasn’t until Merlin caught Arthur kissing a rather pretty milk maid who was dropping off the daily milk delivery to Camelot’s kitchens that Merlin realized that he was actually jealous. Not of Arthur, which at least would have made sense, he thought. But rather of everyone that Arthur was deigning to kiss.

He’d been so wrapped up in his jealousy he almost hadn’t noticed how his magic had triggered the girl’s skirts to twine about her ankles, causing her to fall. Once he saw her caught by Arthur, he’d been horrified at what he’d done and left before either of them could see him.

Then he spent time up in the battlements trying to wrap his head around the idea. It didn’t seem fair that people Arthur hadn’t even talked to before were given a chance while he wasn’t. It made it worse knowing that he was the one that the Great Dragon had been talking about.

He knew that he deeply cared for Arthur. He wouldn’t be so determined to protect him, with his own life, if he didn’t think Arthur was worthy of it, regardless of what the dragon said. Merlin hadn’t expected his feelings to get out of his control and to fall for the prince almost without noticing.

It was a stupid thing to do. And the very idea was more than a little overwhelming.

So, he decided to give up and hide away for the rest of the day. Maybe, if he didn’t have to see Arthur kissing other people then the huge jealousy stone that had settled itself in his gut would go away on its own.
*-*-*-*

Merlin was in Arthur’s room eyeing one of Arthur’s swords, trying to figure out how long it would take him to sharpen the various nicks out of the blade and whether he wanted to risk doing it by magic, when Arthur flung himself inside, making the doors bang open loudly before sitting down in his favorite chair.

“I give up!” Arthur shouted.

Merlin gave up on the sword and eyed him instead.

“I think I‘ve kissed practically every unmarried person in Albion by now.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows at that, though his stomach clenched. He ignored it and said dryly, “Congratulations. I‘m sure your father is proud.”

Arthur shot him a glare before slumping back into place. “I never did find the person the Dragon said I’d find. I think that the beast was lying to me. It even got to the point that I thought of kissing Gaius.”

Merlin gagged, choked and sputtered. By the time he cleared his watering eyes, Arthur was smirking at him. He’d so said that on purpose.

“I think I‘m going to be sick,” Merlin said, as nausea made his stomach roll. The pictures were in his head now and they would not go away. He grimaced. He hoped there was a spell in his magic book that could make the images go away or he’d have to skip dinner tonight. And maybe even breakfast in the morning, he thought glumly.

“I said I‘d thought about it,” Arthur said, his mouth twitched with amusement. “And only briefly, I‘m not that desperate.”

Merlin shook his head to drive the thoughts away. He finally asked, driven by equal parts of curiously and dread, “I haven‘t heard about you kissing Morgana yet. Are you saving her for last?”

Arthur waved this away. “No! Who gave you that ridiculous idea? I don‘t need to kiss Morgana. I already know she‘s not the one.”

Merlin was relieved but also very confused, so Arthur relented. “I kissed her when we were children. Trust me. I don‘t need to do that again.”

Arthur closed his eyes and shuddered dramatically.

Merlin smiled, as much at Arthur’s antics as from delight that the kissing madness was coming to a stop. After realizing how jealous he was becoming of everyone who had been kissed, it had been getting harder and harder to hide his feelings away. Any more and he was certain that he would be developing ulcers. Or worse, he’d actually tell Arthur about his feelings.

“Get me something to eat, will you! This isn‘t fit for a rat.” Arthur grimaced at the leftovers from lunch that Merlin hadn’t gotten around to clearing.

Merlin sighed, rolled his eyes and got to his feet. It looked like everything was going back to the way it was before. He tried not to be disappointed or hurt, and failed. The urge to remind Arthur that he hadn’t been kissed yet rose again. He stomped on it. He didn’t think he could take it if Arthur laughed at him for asking. So, he was going to ignore that this whole thing had ever happened.

That would be better for everyone, and would result in no heads getting chopped off.
*-*-*-*

Arthur stalked through the halls of Camelot the next day, trying and failing to track down Merlin.

He kept getting smiles and giggles from a lot of different people, servants and nobles alike. Some he knew he hadn’t ever kissed kept giving him hopeful looks or more intense come hither glances. Arthur ignored them all.

Then he caught sight of a familiar figure, not the one he’d been looking for, but maybe Gwen would be able to give him an idea as to where he could find Merlin.

“Guinevere, wait! Guinevere!” he called, she didn’t stop. “Gwen, wait.”

Gwen stopped and looked over, her expression startled. “Oh, your highness! I didn‘t mean to ignore you. I just - well hardly no one calls me Guinevere anymore so I -”

Arthur held up a hand to stop her babble and she stuttered to a stop.

“Have you seen Merlin?” he asked, cutting straight to the point. “The idiot promised me he‘d have my sword ready this morning and it‘s nearly noon.”

“I‘m sorry, no. I haven‘t seen him all day. I‘ve been running errands for Morgana,” said Gwen.

Arthur nodded, and sighed in exasperation. He grumbled, “He‘s never around where you need him.”

He turned to leave when Gwen said, “I- I‘m sorry you didn‘t find them.”

Arthur stopped and turned back to her, his eyebrows raised.

Gwen swallowed nervously, “Merlin told me. About you looking for someone. Explained all the kissing.”

Arthur dropped his head and ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Of course he did.” He snorted in disgust.

“It wasn‘t anything bad,” she said. “I thought it was rather sweet actually.”

Arthur didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t think anyone had ever described him like that before. It was rather horrific. He desperately hoped there wasn’t anyone within earshot of them. If his knights heard this he’d never hear the end of it.

Eyeing her warily and hoping she didn‘t say anything like it again, he said, “Well, I‘m done now.”

Gwen bobbed her head in acknowledgement and he started down the hallway again.

But then he realized that he hadn’t actually kissed her, had he? No, he was fairly certain he had never got around to her. He’d spent too much time trying to avoid Morgana’s, sure to be acidic, commentary that he’d never gone near Gwen the entire time.

“Wait, Gwen,” he said.

She turned with an inquiring expression.

He gave her a hopeful look. “I haven‘t actually kissed you yet. And I know you aren‘t married or betrothed.”

Gwen went wide-eyed. “No-no. I- I- No. I‘m not.”

“Good,” Arthur said firmly, taking it for acquiescence. He took three long steps back to her and kissed her before he thought better of it.

It was actually surprisingly good.

He’d thought for sure that she would fail like all the others but there was a spark of something. However it was nothing more than a faint impression. As if he was close, but had missed what he really was looking for.

The loud clang of metal made them part.

They both turned to see Merlin looking at them, aghast. The sword he had so carefully sharpened dropped to his feet. Only the hilt saved him from a nasty accident.

“It‘s not what you think!” blurted Gwen.

Arthur shifted on his feet and tried not to add his voice to Gwen’s. He didn’t need to explain himself to Merlin, for god’s sake. So, why in the world did he feel so uncomfortable under his wide-eyed gaze?

“I need to get to Morgana,” said Gwen. She scurried past Merlin, slowing down to whisper an apology before getting away as fast as she could.

Arthur tried not to think uncharitable thoughts in her direction. Though, the words coward and traitor may have unwittingly drifted through his mind.
*-*-*-*

Merlin shut the doors of Arthur’s room behind him, and turned to stare at Arthur.

“I can‘t believe you did that! You kissed Gwen,” Merlin’s eyes were still huge.

Arthur looked at Merlin and the way his hands were flailing in the air. He leaned back to avoid getting hit. “I thought you said that you didn‘t have any feelings for her. You do, don‘t you. You lied to me.”

Merlin puffed out a breath and shook his head. He said, “No. I didn‘t lie. Gwen is my friend.”

Arthur looked skeptical.

“And Morgana‘s going to kill you once she finds out,” he added, after a pause.

“Morgana wouldn‘t kill me,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes and settling into his chair. He relaxed now that he knew he wouldn’t have to deal with an angry or jealous Merlin. That’s the last thing he needed now, and the very idea made him rather uncomfortable.

Merlin made a noise of amused disbelief.

Arthur continued contemplatively, “She‘d declare herself my eternal enemy and try to make my life a living hell. But she wouldn‘t kill me.” He smirked at Merlin, “So, nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, is that all?” Merlin shook his head. “Well, don‘t expect me to help. You‘re on your own when it comes to the Lady Morgana. When she comes after you, I‘ll be getting the hell out of the way.”

“Merlin, where is the loyalty to your lord and master?”

“It got lost somewhere in that hallway where you were kissing my best friend,” answered Merlin, dryly.

Arthur smirked.

“So, has it been worth it?” Merlin finally asked.

Arthur’s smile vanished. He sighed, “Gwen is the only one I found who came close.”

Merlin’s stomach twisted and dropped.

Arthur continued, “But even then, no, she wasn‘t quite right.” He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it sullenly.

Merlin’s stomach settled down and relief made his knees rather wobbly.

Arthur’s expression was blank as he chewed but Merlin could read the tightness around his mouth and eyes that spoke of deep unhappiness.

And Merlin felt torn, between relief that the madness was really and for certain over and shared unhappiness for Arthur. It made him wish that Arthur had found someone, even if the person only made him happy for a time. It would have been infinitely better than this, no matter how Merlin felt about it.

Again, the urge to tell Arthur rose to his lips and he had to force himself to hold the words in. To tell Arthur of the Dragon would mean he’d have to tell him of his magic. He still wasn’t ready for that revelation or the fallout that would come from it. He trusted Arthur to keep his secret if it came to that but he wasn’t sure that he trusted their fragile bond to remain intact from the blow of the realization that he kept something so monumental from Arthur.

The Dragon had proved to him with the existence of the druid boy and the future threat he posed to Arthur that even destiny could be thwarted or bent into another shape. He couldn’t risk it.

“You do know that Gwen will tell Morgana right?”

Arthur’s head snapped up at Merlin. “Why would she do that?”

To Merlin’s ear, his voice sounded a little worried.

“They‘re girls! Aren‘t they suppose to share everything?” Merlin grinned at the flicker of trepidation he caught on Arthur‘s face. “So now, all you have to do is avoid Morgana‘s revenge.”

Arthur snorted at him, and threw his apple core at Merlin‘s head. “I‘m not scared of Morgana.”
*-*-*-*

Arthur spent the next three days avoiding Morgana.

No matter what he had said to Merlin about believing that Morgana wouldn’t kill him, it didn’t mean that she wouldn’t try to flay his skin off with the sharpness of her tongue.

And she’d do it at the most embarrassing possible time too.

Arthur had a rather vivid memory of when Morgana had made a noblewoman twice her age break down in tears just from words alone. She’d been driven to fury because the woman had slapped Morgana’s new servant, Guinevere, for making a small mistake during a feast. She’d spilled a bit of wine on the woman’s dress due to the woman’s own actions, and the noblewoman had hit her, hard enough to raise a bruise on the girl’s right cheek.

Enraged, Morgana had nearly eviscerated her and she’d only been thirteen years old at the time.

She’d only gotten better at using words as weapons as she grew older.

So, Arthur thought it was prudent to avoid her until her ire had cooled.

Arthur ignored the smirks Merlin kept giving him. Though, he did drag him off to the practice field for sword practice. No matter what Merlin had said, he wasn‘t being punished for his insolence. If Arthur tried doing that, he‘d never be off the practice field. He just needed the exercise, and so did Merlin.

On the fourth day, Uther called Morgana and him to share dinner with him in the great hall and Arthur had no excuse to beg off. He couldn’t even use the excuse of going hunting because of the rain that had started in the morning.

Morgana spent the first course just staring at him. It rather reminded Arthur of a cat staring down at a mouse it was about to pounce upon.

Arthur tried to radiate an air of nonchalance. He wasn’t going to show her how much she affected him.

It took his father being distracted from the meal by news from one of his servants and needing to leave the table for Morgana to finally speak to him.

“At least if you‘d charged for your kisses than you would have increased the treasury of the kingdom for all the good it did.” Her voice was cool, but her eyes glittered.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. She was laughing at him. Well, at least she didn’t look like she was contemplating how his entrails would look like on his outsides instead of his insides. That was reassuring. He relaxed and actually started to enjoy his meal more now that the threat of verbal torture had blown over.

“Nor have you kissed anyone else in the last three days,” continued Morgana, her voice tilting in inquiry.

“No,” answered Arthur. “I‘m done. I‘ve kissed every person I cared to kiss. And even a few I didn‘t.” His nose crinkled in memory. He may not have stooped to kissing Gaius but that didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten a little desperate at times. Some of those peasants could have stood a good washing.

Morgana’s lovely painted mouth curved up into a threatening smile full of teeth. “So, you‘re not going to kiss Gwen again? Right?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yes, your servant will never feel my lips again. Her loss.”

Morgana settled back into her chair and smiled a genuine smile.

They were silent for a moment, the only noise coming from the clink of metal on metal as each ate their meal and swallowed it down with a rich red wine.

“So,” Morgana said slowly.

Arthur arched an eyebrow at her.

“You‘ve kissed everyone you wanted to kiss,” she continued, her voice low and thoughtful.

“Yes. I‘ve said this already. Do you need me to call Gaius to get your ears checked?” Arthur grumbled, “I‘m beginning to believe those earrings you wear have destroyed your hearing.”

Morgana’s mouth curled into a slight sneer, “No more than all those hits to the head have damaged your brain.”

Arthur glowered.

“I was just wondering,” Morgana continued. “How was he?”

“How was who?” Arthur frowned.

“Merlin.”

“What about him?”

Morgana rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. “What was it like to kiss him?”

Arthur stilled, and blinked at her.

Morgana tilted her head, her sweep of black locks tumbled over her pale shoulder. “You did kiss him, right? Merlin is unmarried and not terrible to look at.”

She read Arthur’s expression correctly and gave him a look of disbelief, “You mean you didn’t? I would have thought he was the first one you inflicted yourself on. He‘s proved he‘s willing to indulge your silly whims.”

Arthur’s thoughts whirled chaotically and he didn’t really listen to Morgana. He hadn’t even thought of Merlin. Why not? Merlin was always at his side, it wasn’t like he could overlook him.

He got up without bothering to excuse himself or answering Morgana. Arthur had a manservant to find.
*-*-*-*

Merlin was in Gaius’ workroom, stirring a potion. Gaius was off helping with a difficult birth, so Merlin was in charge of it. Merlin was deeply grateful to have skipped going along. Gaius had more than enough competent help in the midwife. Last time Merlin had been taken to a birth he’d been so disturbed by the woman’s fierce screams he nearly set the roof on fire. Sure, he'd been twelve years old at the time, but that was the sort of trauma that lingered even years later.

Children may be miracles of life but the process of birthing them was messy, smelly and painful. Merlin would much rather stick to potions. Sure they were smelly and messy, but at least they didn’t scream.

Arthur walked in without so much as knocking, slamming the doors apart so loudly that he startled Merlin into nearly spilling the incredibly small cauldron all over the work table.

“You‘re going to break the door by doing that one of these days,” said Merlin. He went back to carefully stirring the bubbling medicinal potion. Did it look green enough to add the chamomile or should he give it a little more time to reduce? It did look runnier than it was supposed to.

Before Merlin could answer his own mental musings Arthur grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away.

“What are you-!?”

And then anything Merlin could have said or even thought in protest was abruptly cut off by Arthur’s lips on his own.

Arthur kissed Merlin fiercely, as if he could reach deep inside him with his mouth and he desperately needed to find something within. Something that he would die without.

Merlin was incapable of doing anything else but kissing back just as passionately.

Both of them lost track of time, and when lack of air finally forced them apart, they stared at each other, panting and wide-eyed.

“All this time, it was you. You,” whispered Arthur, his voice low and somber. His eyes were stormy with so many emotions that Merlin couldn’t even begin to read them all.

Merlin raised a hand to his tingling mouth. He’d known. The Great Dragon had told him. He’d known but he hadn’t understood. Not really. Not until this very moment, what he’d meant when he said Arthur was his second half. The missing pieces of himself.

He knew now.

Arthur’s fingers grazed the sides of Merlin’s face, bringing his attention back to him and out of his own thoughts.

Arthur was staring at him with such intensity, Merlin wondered how it was possible he withstood it. He was certain Arthur’s eyes were leaving scorch marks on his skin.

And he knew suddenly that this was the moment where he had to lay all his cards on the table. This was the moment that they were the deepest connected, where their bond could strengthen into something unbreakable and adamant. If it didn’t, it would shatter, like a badly forged sword, cutting those nearest to it.

Merlin licked his lips. Arthur groaned and kissed him again. Merlin held onto to him tightly, wrapping his arms around his waist as Arthur’s hands tilted his head. A deep urge welled inside him. He needed to be closer to Arthur. Skin to skin.

Arthur was close enough that Merlin could feel how turned on this was making him, and knew that Arthur could feel him in turn. Merlin gasped and groaned, pressing even closer, and his fingers ached to follow the familiar patterns of undressing Arthur.

But Merlin fought his own screaming desires and stepped back. Arthur protested and reached for him but Merlin raised his hands to stop him.

“Sire… Arthur, there is something you need to know,” Merlin said hoarsely, he swallowed and tried not to go back into Arthur‘s arms.

It was time. Now. Before anything else could happen. “It‘s about me, and..” Merlin took in a deep breath, “…and my magic.”

End