Call My Name: Spring
Title: Call My Name
Part: 3: Spring ( 1:Autumn; 2: Winter)
Fandom: Merlin
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, mentions of other characters
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Winter has given way to Spring. Tournament season is brewing.
Spoilers: Very slight for The Gates of Avalon. Blink and you'll miss it.
You just call out my name
And you know, wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again
Winter, spring, summer, or fall
All you have to do is call
And I'll be there
You've got a friend
Merlin was pretty sure he was going to collapse, any moment now. Gaius's chambers and, more importantly, his bed, were within sight, the door beckoning to him... but why must it be up that set of stairs? The young warlock was honestly not convinced his legs would make it.
He had been very new to Camelot, last tournament season. More than that, he had just been handed the position of Arthur's manservant. That had taken up so much of his time back then, as he had learnt about the man he had been assigned to, that he had had little time to help out in any other way. In hindsight, he had gotten off very lightly. This year, he still had all his manservant's duties, but now he was also expected to help out in all areas of the preparation.
Arthur was doing his best to pass on as many of Merlin's duties as possible to others. But he could only do so much without appearing suspicious, and so Merlin was still being run off his feet. Waking up before dawn to get Arthur ready for the extensive training he was undergoing in preparation for the tournament, then helping out wherever he was needed to get Camelot ready for the imminent arrival of the lords and knights intending to battle it out for honour and glory, back to Arthur as the light faded to get him changed and presentable for whatever was planned for the evening, down to the kitchens or the great hall to help with the evening's feasting, and then - if he was very lucky - he would be excused to sleep. More likely Arthur needed something else doing, or if not then his services would be required elsewhere. And, with all of that going on, he was struggling to remember the last time he and Arthur had managed to find more than a couple of minutes to be together as lovers.
Heaving the dead weight that was his own body up the last few stairs, Merlin stumbled through Gaius's door. It had been a very long night indeed; the first of the arrivals to Camelot had been spotted on the horizon, and that had sent the Court into a flurry of activity. The campsite was nowhere near ready, nor were the guest chambers set aside for the nobles Uther was intending to charm. Merlin had been outside, in the biting cold, for many hours after the evening banquet, helping to haul up tents. He had been quite ready to sleep in one of them by the time he was dismissed. So, when he made it through that door and found Gaius up, waiting for him, he almost broke into tears of exhaustion. How could anybody possibly expect him to do anything else?
"You look terrible," Gaius commented, in way of a greeting. Merlin just grunted and flopped down in the nearest available chair, forehead against his folded arms.
"Don't get too comfortable. Arthur sent word he wanted your services as soon as you were done in the fields." Merlin was glad to see, on looking up, that Gaius at least looked apologetic.
Anyone else, and Merlin would have refused, would have given Gaius a message to send back that included some rather choice words and gone up to his bed instead. But Arthur? Whilst he was far too tired to get excited at the prospect, there was at least a small glimmer of hope that the prince would not make him work if he saw how exhausted his manservant was. So, instead of complaining, he just grumbled out a "Fine", and heaved himself back out into the darkened and deserted corridors.
He made it to Arthur's chambers with eyes half-open, feet dragging along the ground behind him, looking more like the walking dead than anything else. The tiny part of his brain that was still functioning reminded him to knock first, lest he alert the guards posted outside the door, but he pushed the heavy doors open without waiting for a response.
"Alright, I'm here, can I go now?"
Arthur, who had been sat up in his chair, raised an eyebrow in amusement before getting to his feet. He crossed the distance between them in a few easy strides, bringing his arms up around his lover and holding him close, letting him droop into his embrace.
"I did have plans," he mumbled, soothingly, into his ear. "But I think maybe you're too tired for them."
"That obvious, huh?"
"Come on," Arthur laughed and shook his head, pulling away so that he could take Merlin by the hand and lead him to his bed. "My plans can wait. For now, you're going to sleep. I'll make sure no one sends for you."
"Thank you, Arthur." Merlin replied with a great deal of sincerity, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling off shoes and breeches before sliding gratefully under the covers. By the time Arthur had changed himself into his nightshirt and curled himself up around his lover, Merlin was breathing the deep, easy breaths of a man fast asleep.
***
Merlin awoke to sunlight, the beautiful feeling of being well-rested, and the definite knowledge he was being watched. He shifted slightly, scrubbed at his face with one hand, and then twisted around in the gentle embrace he was still being held in. Arthur was dressed already, though obviously he had decided to come back to his bed. His eyes quickly caught and held Merlin's gaze when he turned, and Merlin immediately felt warmed by the love - and something else - that radiated there.
"Feel better?" Arthur questioned, voice soft.
"A lot. Thank you, Arthur."
Arthur smiled and shook his head, a silent way of showing that no thanks was necessary. "Well then. I think it's time. Get yourself dressed."
"Time for what?" Merlin questioned as he sat up, stretching out his muscles before getting up onto his feet.
"All in good time," Arthur responded, again with that look in his eyes that Merlin could not find words to define. "Just... get yourself dressed."
Laughing and shaking his head at Arthur's crypticness, Merlin did as he was told without further complaint. Dressing did not take long - pulling on yesterdays breeches and shoes was all that needed doing - and he was soon back at Arthur's side.
"Follow me," Arthur commanded, opening the door to his chambers and stepping out into the corridor. He led Merlin, in silence, through corridor after corridor, staircase after staircase, until they eventually appeared out on one of the castle's highest turrets. It was deserted apart from two guards, both of whom quickly disappeared after a brief word with the prince.
The views were spectacular. Merlin could see for miles, in all directions. The entire kingdom, spread out before his eyes. In the distance, he could see a steady moving column of people, carts and horses, and that was what Arthur drew his attention to when he came to stand next to him.
"They'll be here by sundown. I wanted to bring you here last night, but I'm not sure you would have made it." He offered a cheeky grin in Merlin's direction.
Merlin laughed fondly, leaning his arms against the ramparts, enjoying the feel of the breeze in his hair and Arthur's warmth close at his side. "No offense," he spoke at length, "But I don't think you brought me here just for the view." He twisted his head, watching Arthur as he looked towards the approaching tournament guests.
"Well, no," Arthur responded, not turning to meet the gaze that was on him. "You know, of all those people down there, half at most are coming purely for the sake of the tournament?"
"Uh..." Merlin was aware that was not the most intelligent response he could give, but he was rather thrown by the statement. He had not expected to be brought here for a lesson in Court politics.
"Some do, of course. Young men, good with a sword and seeking a reputation or a fortune. But for most there's some other motive. Most will not even fight me, they would rather forfeit than challenge the heir to the throne. They think that, somehow, that will endear them to me."
"Couldn't be further from the truth?" Merlin guessed.
"Precisely. A brave man will challenge whoever stands in his path. If they come to Camelot for the tournament, then they should be willing to challenge me. Those who forfeit do not show deference, or whatever the hell they believe they are showing. They just show themselves to be cowards. It will not be the ones who forfeit that I will remember, when I am on the throne... it will be the ones who are brave enough to challenge me."
"...Right." Merlin still had little idea why he was being told all this.
"But that's not all," Arthur continued, seemingly oblivious to his partner's confusion. "Many of the people coming never intend to fight. Whole families come, Lords with their sons and daughters. They put their sons in for the tournament, whilst they intend to sweet talk my father, and the daughters..." He trailed off, and finally looked Merlin in the eye.
"They bring them for you." Merlin finished his sentence for him, stomach dropping unpleasantly. Was that what that look had been in Arthur's eyes, earlier? Were his next words going to be something along the lines of 'We cannot do this anymore'?
"Yes. For me." Arthur echoed, nodded, and turned his gaze back out towards his future kingdom. "Tournaments are as political as they are fun. Far more people come here to try and get a foot in the door than come for the prize and the glory of winning the tournament. These next few weeks..."
"It's alright," Merlin was quick to respond, almost too quick. Now that the idea that he was losing Arthur had firmly rooted itself in his mind, he could do nothing to shake it. "I understand. You have to play the prince, woo the girls..."
"But I don't want to!" Arthur suddenly exclaimed, turning around and taking a few paces away from the wall, and from Merlin, before sighing and pacing back. Reaching out, he grabbed Merlin's hands, holding them tightly in his own and catching his eyes again. That look was there again, and Merlin finally thought he knew what it was.
Desperation.
"I want you. And now I have to go and 'play the prince', I have to smile at our guests and escort their daughters to banquets. And doing that? Will hurt you. That's the last thing I want."
"Arthur... Arthur, it won't hurt me. I promise. I understand, it's what you have to do."
The prince sighed, shoulders dropping along wih his eyes, and when he did look up again, the passion there seemed to have calmed, at least slightly. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Do what you have to do, Arthur. I know where your heart lies."
"Merlin..." Arthur sighed out the name, relief pronounced on every feature. "I love you."
"And I love you too. Now, are you going to calm down?" Merlin laughed, trying to lighten the mood with a quirk of his eyebrow, a quick step forward to plant a gentle kiss to Arthur's lips.
"Yes, sorry, just... one more question?" That apprehension was back, behind Arthur's eyes.
"What?"
"It's just... I've been thinking..." The prince's gaze dropped again, and he shifted his weight awkwardly between his two feet. Merlin felt the knot of worry in his gut starting to return. "You're a servant, and a man. What we have, it will always have to be secret. Even when I'm king, there's only so much I can change. And, all that... it means I'll have to take a wife, one day."
"I... I know." Merlin replied, though his voice was less certain than during Arthur's last ramble. The thought of him taking a wife was a lot harder to handle than the idea of him flirting with the daughters of noblemen for a couple of weeks.
"But that doesn't have to change anything!" Arthur's words were almost frantic. "We can still love each other, I'll make sure of it! And... and I want to prove it. Now."
Merlin's brow furrowed. He had lost the plot now, well and truly. The prince had gone quite mad. He eyed his lover suspiciously as he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled something out in his closed fist. "What's that?"
Arthur looked... no, there was no other word for it, Merlin decided; he looked shy as he unclenched his fist, revealing a pendant on a leather thong. Merlin thought it was the one the prince himself always wore, until he looked up and saw that it was still around his neck. The one in Arthur's hand was, seemingly, an identical copy.
"I want you to have this, if... if you'll accept it?" This shyness was definitely a new side to Arthur. Or, at least, a side that Merlin had never seen before. It was quite endearing. "I cannot marry you, Merlin. I cannot even make our love public. But I can show you that you mean as much to me as you would do if we could do all of those things. If you were a noblewoman, I would offer you a ring and ask you for your hand in marriage, but as things stand... I can offer you this and hope it means as much."
Merlin gaped. His eyes flicked from the pendant, to Arthur's face, and then back to the pendant. Wordlessly, he reached for the piece of jewellery, smiling as he took the two ends of the leather and tied them at the back of his neck.
"I accept."
***
"How's Arthur?"
Merlin jumped at the soft voice at his shoulder, not having heard anyone approach. He looked up from where he was polishing Arthur's armour, ready for the afternoon's continuation of the tournament. It was day four, and the competition was beginning to get tough. Arthur himself was in a foul mood, his morning's opponent having forfeited to the prince, and for once Merlin was glad of the time alone whilst the prince was required at the midday meal.
"Oh, hello Gwen," Merlin managed to smile as he turned to his friend. "Arthur? He's still in a temper from this morning. Is the Lady Morgana looking for him?" He could not think of any other reason why Gwen would be asking after the prince.
"Oh no. Just... me. Sorry, I... didn't really mean how Arthur was. On his own. I meant... with you?"
"With me?" Merlin's eyes goggled. No one knew... did they? He thought he and Arthur had kept their secret perfectly.
"Yes, with you. You know... how are you two? Together?"
"Gwen, I don't under-"
"Oh, don't give me that, Merlin. You know what my lady is capable of doing. And she keeps no secrets from me."
"Your l- Morgana knows?" Merlin's eyes were impossibly wide, now, and Arthur's armour was lying forgotten on the ground. In a sudden movement, he had reached out to clasp Gwen's arm in his hand. "Gwen, you cannot let anybody else know!"
Gwen laughed and shrugged Merlin away easily. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with us. I mean, Morgana was furious for a while, that Arthur was throwing everything away for you... but I think she's come 'round to the idea, now. And you're looking happy. Not... not that you weren't looking happy before, of course. Just... happier."
"I... I do?"
Gwen just nodded.
"Um... well, oh... alright?" Merlin really was at a loss for words. "Thank you, I guess? And... we're fine, to answer your question."
"That's... good. I have to get back to Morgana, but... you take care, Merlin. You and Arthur."
"Thank you, Gwen. We will." Merlin gave her a bright and honest smile as she turned her back and left him be. He was not granted peace for very long, however, before Arthur was back.
The prince did not look that much happier. His brow was still furrowed, his jaw was still set in that tell-tale way that meant that he would most likely yell at the first person to annoy him.
"Who am I facing this afternoon, Merlin?" He questioned as he came to stand by his manservant. "It better be somebody with a backbone this time."
"Um..." Merlin squinted across the campsite to the large wooden board that displayed the afternoon's standings. He then rifled through the sheets of paper given to each contestant, identifying the correct shield and perusing the writing underneath. "Knight Dunstan. A traveller, by the looks of things. Here for the glory, nothing more. And... he's won the last three tournaments he has entered."
Arthur's eyebrows raised, obviously impressed. "Not the sort to forfeit, then. Brilliant."
"You're not worried, that he's won his last three tournaments?" Merlin questioned as he started on getting Arthur back into his armour.
"Why should I be? I've won my last five! We'll go and have a look at him when you're done here, anyway."
Merlin nodded, suitably happy with the response, and finished dressing Arthur in companionable silence. After handing him his sword and helmet, he led the way across the camp to where his papers told him Dunstan was stationed.
The man they saw there was small, several inches shorter than Arthur, and of a very slight build. Arthur could not help but release a barked-out laugh. "Merlin, are you sure that's the right man? You could best him!"
Merlin frowned, checked the sheaf of papers again, but the shield of the man matched the shield on the board. This was definitely the undefeated Dunstan in the flesh. "I'm... I'm sure."
"Huh."
"Maybe he's... nimble?"
"Nimble?" Arthur looked over at the man he had to remember was his servant, when out in public. "Nimble?" The word amused him, obviously.
"You know. Quick on his feet. Just... watch out for him, alright?" Merlin bit down on his lip to stop himself saying any more. Arthur did not like being worried about, even when they were alone and were able to drop the master-and-servant act.
"Your concern is duly noted, Merlin," Arthur responded dryly, just as predicted. "Now come on. I have a tournament to win."
***
It all went wrong so quickly, no one really realised what had happened to begin with. Merlin had been right; what Dunstan lacked in build, he made up for in speed, constantly keeping Arthur on his toes. Arthur, however, was still fighting valiantly, defending every blow and just about managing to keep his opponent within his eyeline. Whatever changed, it happened too fast for anybody to notice. All anyone could remember seeing, later, was a perfectly normal sword battle one moment, and the next...
Merlin thought it was a trick of perspective, to begin with. These tournaments were not about killing blows, the aim was not to kill your opponent. And yet... that sword, it definitely looked like it had gone through Arthur's chest, and out the other side. The redness of the blade, as well, added to the illusion...
It was no illusion. Merlin's mind reached that horrifying conclusion at the same moment as the rest of the spectators, if the sudden increase in clamouring was anything to go by. Dunstan had just pulled his sword free of Arthur's body, letting the prince drop motionless to the ground, when the guard's sprung to action. The knight was being held by four of the king's men by the time the first screams erupted.
Merlin's body slipped into autopilot, feet carrying him as fast as possible out into the arena. He could see Gaius rushing forwards too, from his place in the stands. The young warlock reached the prince first, falling to his knees and rolling Arthur onto his back. For a moment, his heart was filled with relief at seeing Arthur's eyes still open. Filled with pain, and confusion, but at least they were still open. That relief was painfully shortlived, however, as the fallen man let loose a weak cough and blood bubbled out between his lips.
"Gaius?" Merlin begged, looking desperately at the old man who was now knelt at his side. "Gaius, do something!"
"I don't think I can, Merlin..." Gaius looked stricken as his hands pushed away blood-stained armour and clothing to get a better look at the wound. "No man can survive a wound like this..."
For a moment, Merlin lost himself to despair, eyes fixed on Arthur's face. The prince's own eyes were beginning to close, his skin paling horrifically even as he watched. Then, he pulled himself together.
"Cover me." He hissed at his mentor.
"Merlin, wh-?"
"Cover me." Merlin hissed, the mild-mannered boy Gaius knew completely lost to this desperate soul now knelt over the prince's dying body. "I can fix this."
Gaius' eyes widened, as he comprehended what Merlin was suggesting. He felt he should argue, but really, what other choice did he have? The prince had barely moments left, and if Merlin's magic might just save him? It was a risk worth taking. So, he nodded at Merlin, leaning his body over the prince so as to hide Merlin's own hands as best as possible from the deafening crowd around them.
Merlin did not know the words for a healing spell anywhere near as powerful as the one he now had need of, but desperation spurred him on. He let his fear, his panic at the possibility of losing Arthur, overtake him, and the magic surged through him as it had done so many times before when he had been in dire need. His eyes glowed gold as he pressed his hand to Arthur's wound, and moments later he felt movement beneath him. Movement, followed by a rattling cough from the prince. Merlin pulled back, elated.
The prince looked little better. His skin was still deathly white, and his cough had brought more blood dripping down his chin, but he was still alive. Still breathing. That was all that mattered for now. Between his magic, and Gaius's skills as a physician, they could find a way to heal a living person. All that mattered, right now, was that Arthur did not die. His magic had prevented that, bought them more time, and that was enough to bring hope back to Merlin's heart.
***
The first week was fraught, and ended with no sign that things were going to improve any time soon. Arthur was still alive, and that at least was something, though little more could be said in favour of a good outcome. The first few days, he had been laid out in Gaius's workroom, watched and attended to at all hours of both day and night, poultice after poultice applied to his wound, and potion after potion forced down his throat. On day four, he had been moved to his own chambers, laid out on his bed. The expression 'death bed' was commonly heard in whispers through the corridors.
He had yet to wake. A week had passed, and there were still no sign of so much of a flutter of the prince's eyelids. He was completely and utterly unresponsive; the only sign that he was even alive was the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He was staving off death, but he was not crawling back into life, either. The sole heir to the throne of Camelot was stuck in some awful limbo, between life and death, and no one had any idea what the outcome would be.
Merlin could not remember the last time he had slept. He kept a near-constant vigil at his love's side, terrified to look away even for a moment, in case that was the moment Arthur's heart finally gave out. He sat up all night, spell book in his lap, trying healing spell after healing spell, all with no effect. He wished he could do more, but daylight always brought a whole string of visitors, and he was forced into the public eye. If he was found doing magic, he would surely be executed, and then he would be no help to Arthur at all.
The king visited ever day, and more often than not Morgana would be with him. The king had no eyes for anyone but his son, and the obvious distress the king was suffering had originally surprised Merlin. He had never seemed particularly invested in his son when he had been fit and healthy, after all. Still, Merlin had seen tears in the eyes of Arthur's father, more than once, over the last week.
Merlin himself had yet to cry. He refused to do so. No matter how many times Gwen came to sit at his side, and promised him it was a natural thing to do, he stubbornly refused. To cry was to admit there was a chance Arthur was not coming back, and he refused to allow that possibility to take root in his mind. Gaius was working as hard as he possibly could to find some way of healing Arthur's injuries, and Merlin was learning and trying out new magic every day. It was just a matter of time, nothing to worry about...
***
"Merlin, it's been over a month..."
"No!" Merlin was on his feet in an instant, forcing his exhausted body into the space between Gaius and the end of Arthur's bed. He knew what the man was going to suggest, and he would not allow it. He would not let the physician give up on Arthur, not when he still refused to give up himself. He would use his magic to throw his elderly mentor from the room, if he had to. He would throw out anyone who dared suggest the end of the road had come for Arthur.
"Merlin," Gaius looked desperately sad. "I admire your loyalty, but... nobody's blaming you. You were not responsible for this, even if you were his manservant. He's not recovering, he's hardly taken on any water or broth... even if some miracle occurs and he does wake up now, his body is beyond weak. I doubt he would ever recover fully."
The dark-haired boy made himself focus on the first part of Gaius's speech, refusing to look over at Arthur and take in for himself the skeletal thinness of the body, the deathly pallor of his skin, the lanky dullness of his hair.
"This... this isn't about guilt, or responsibility!" Merlin snapped. He had to save Arthur, he knew that much, and if he had to reveal his every secret to do so, then so be it. He knew Gaius was trustworthy, at least.
"Then what, Merlin? Why do you care so much?"
Face set in an angry line, Merlin reached inside his shirt, hand closing on the pendant hanging against his heart, and pulling it out over his clothes so that Gaius could see. "I love him! He loves me. He gave me this, before the tournament began. He told me it was the closest he could give me to a betrothal. We're meant to have the rest of our lives in front of us!"
Gaius was silent for a long while, not knowing how to respond. When he did find his voice again, it was quiet and unsteady. "M-Merlin. I... I had no idea. I'm sorry... so sorry. But... all the same... Arthur's as good as dead. The king... he's given his orders. For him to be... put out of his misery."
"Put out of his misery?!" Merlin sounded completely incredulous. "What is he now, a horse? A dog? I won't let you, Gaius. I won't let you kill him!"
"Merlin, see reason! He's already de-"
"NO!" Merlin's eyes glowed gold as the magic overtook him in his desperation. He had never experienced anything so extreme before, not even in his most desperate times before his mother had sent him to Camelot. He could feel his body move, see the effects of the magic released from him, but he was powerless to stop himself. It was as if the magic had overtaken his mind, as if it were its own conscious being, using Merlin's body as nothing more than a vessel. He could only watch, completely powerless to stop himself, as his magic tossed Gaius from the room as if he weighed no more than a feather, the doors slamming and bolting behind him. Merlin's body then turned towards Arthur's bed, and again he could only watch as magic burst forth from his fingers, gold light speeding towards Arthur's body and wrapping the prince in its unnatural glow. Merlin knew this was the most powerful thing he had ever managed to do, just as he was sure that doing this again, consciously, would take years of training and practice. The magic was an unharnessed being inside him, almost impossible to tame, and his moment of weakness in front of Gaius had let its purest form burst free. It was the most terrifying experience Merlin had ever lived through.
And the most fantastic. Because that golden glow was healing Arthur, healing him like none of his practiced spells, or Gaius's diligently made potions, had ever managed. Even as he watched, colour was returning to those sallow cheeks, the beginnings of a shine returning to his blond hair. And then Merlin was graced with the most beautiful sight and sound he had ever been witness to; a deep inhale and a choking cough from the prince as his eyes snapped open.
"Arthur!" Merlin was rushing to his side at once, freed from his magical paralysis as the healing golden glow fell away from the prince's body. The man still looked terrible, the magic had done nothing for his weight, and his skin still held a very unhealthy sheen despite the slight colouring, but he was alive and he was awake.
"Mrin?" Weak from disuse, Arthur's tongue and jaw refused to cooperate and let him speak properly, but Merlin could still hear his name on the other man's lips.
"I'm here. It's alright. You're going to be alright now. Just... just, wait there! Don't go anywhere!" It was the daftest possible thing to say, but Merlin was far beyond thinking straight. He knew he had to get Gaius, right this second, and then... then everything would be alright.
***
It looked set to be a glorious day. It was surprisingly warm, with the first signs of summer in the air. It was a refreshing change after the weeks of showers Camelot had been plagued with, and Merlin could not help but walk about with a tune on his lips and a spring in his step.
"It's a beautiful day," he commented as he let himself into Arthur's chambers, opening whatever windows he could to get some fresh air into the prince's rooms. Arthur was a long way from being able to walk about unaided, but at least he could feel the heat of the day through his windows.
Kicking off his boots, Merlin joined Arthur on his bed, wrapping an arm gently around his lover and kissing his cheek. "How are you feeling today?"
"Like I've been run through with a sword, how do you think?" Arthur responded with an eye-roll, though his voice was more affectionate than sarcastic. "Better," he changed his tune, answering honestly. "Terrible, but... better."
"I'd stick with the terrible, if I were you. I told your guards you were not feeling up to any visitors this morning," Merlin offered up a cheeky little grin. "You've been awake a week and I've hardly had you alone for ten minutes without you falling asleep on me. I've had to take drastic measures."
Arthur gave a small laugh, slowly and painfully twisting himself over so that he could better look at Merlin. "Well, I'm glad you're here. I can trust you to explain everything that happened to me. Everybody seems to have a completely different story to tell."
"Um, alright," Merlin smiled fondly, happy to do whatever Arthur asked of him. Even if it was as dull as recounting his story of the last couple of months. "You were fighting that Knight Dunstan, in the tournament. I didn't really see what happened, but he ran you through. He was executed the next day. Turned out he had it in his head that killing you would make your father choose him as his heir." Merlin paused to let Arthur have his derisive laugh at his almost-killer's idiocy. "I guess you were just really lucky, I mean... you survived. Though you were out cold for over a month. Gaius has been giving you everything that he thought could possibly save you. And then, last week, I don't know what happened... I was sitting here with you, and just like that you were awake."
"You... you were standing."
"What?"
"When I woke up... you were at the end of my bed. You weren't sat down at all. And... there was something strange about your eyes."
Merlin struggled to fight down the panic inside of him. Not now, he begged silently to whatever deity might be listening to him. Please don't let me have to have this conversation now.
"Are you sure, Arthur?" Merlin tried his best to sound casual. "I'm sure I was sat at your side. You'd been asleep for a month, you were probably delirious."
"Merlin, stop being an idiot and tell me the truth."
Merlin swallowed, hard. This was not how he had imagined explaining his magic. "A-Arthur... I... there's something I should probably tell you."
"What?" Arthur's brow furrowed slightly.
"I... I woke you up. And I healed you, in the tournament arena. I... well, maybe it's easier to show you." Sitting up, Merlin took a deep breath and, fixing his mind on one of the spare pillows, levitated it. He floated it around for a good while, right in front of Arthur's face, so that there was no way the prince could miss it. Finally, he set the pillow back down and, almost shyly, finished his explanation. "I can do magic."
For the longest while, uneasy silence fell between the two men, Arthur unsure of what to say and Merlin unable to look at his partner. It was Arthur who eventually spoke first.
"Well..."
Merlin winced at the word, finally daring himself to look up into Arthur's eyes.
"Well," the prince repeated. "We've managed to keep our relationship hidden from my father for half a year, now. I think we can manage to keep another secret, don't you?"
"You're not going to have me executed?" Merlin's heart leapt with relief.
"I'd really rather not, Merlin." Typical Arthur, to pull off such a smouldering smirk when he was too sick to even get himself out of bed. "I've grown to quite love you, you see. It would be somewhat of an inconvenience, if I had to have you killed now."
Merlin could not help but laugh, a full and happy laugh, whole body overflowing with love, gratitude and, most importantly, relief. "I've grown to quite love you, too," he echoed, the smile on his face somewhere between amused and deeply loving. Leaning closer, he pressed a string of kisses over Arthur's face, from cheek to cheek, before brushing his hair back from his forehead. He could not help but notice that Arthur was starting to look groggy again, already.
"Go back to sleep," he suggested, pressing a soft kiss to the newly exposed skin of Arthur's forehead. "You need to rest and get your strength back up."
Arthur grunted, not needing to be told twice, and quickly fell back into an untroubled sleep. Merlin smiled softly as he watched his prince, wrapping his arms tighter around that too-thin chest and pulling him in closer.
They may have another secret to weigh them both down, but Merlin's heart had never felt lighter.
Part: 3: Spring ( 1:Autumn; 2: Winter)
Fandom: Merlin
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, mentions of other characters
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Winter has given way to Spring. Tournament season is brewing.
Spoilers: Very slight for The Gates of Avalon. Blink and you'll miss it.
You just call out my name
And you know, wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again
Winter, spring, summer, or fall
All you have to do is call
And I'll be there
You've got a friend
Merlin was pretty sure he was going to collapse, any moment now. Gaius's chambers and, more importantly, his bed, were within sight, the door beckoning to him... but why must it be up that set of stairs? The young warlock was honestly not convinced his legs would make it.
He had been very new to Camelot, last tournament season. More than that, he had just been handed the position of Arthur's manservant. That had taken up so much of his time back then, as he had learnt about the man he had been assigned to, that he had had little time to help out in any other way. In hindsight, he had gotten off very lightly. This year, he still had all his manservant's duties, but now he was also expected to help out in all areas of the preparation.
Arthur was doing his best to pass on as many of Merlin's duties as possible to others. But he could only do so much without appearing suspicious, and so Merlin was still being run off his feet. Waking up before dawn to get Arthur ready for the extensive training he was undergoing in preparation for the tournament, then helping out wherever he was needed to get Camelot ready for the imminent arrival of the lords and knights intending to battle it out for honour and glory, back to Arthur as the light faded to get him changed and presentable for whatever was planned for the evening, down to the kitchens or the great hall to help with the evening's feasting, and then - if he was very lucky - he would be excused to sleep. More likely Arthur needed something else doing, or if not then his services would be required elsewhere. And, with all of that going on, he was struggling to remember the last time he and Arthur had managed to find more than a couple of minutes to be together as lovers.
Heaving the dead weight that was his own body up the last few stairs, Merlin stumbled through Gaius's door. It had been a very long night indeed; the first of the arrivals to Camelot had been spotted on the horizon, and that had sent the Court into a flurry of activity. The campsite was nowhere near ready, nor were the guest chambers set aside for the nobles Uther was intending to charm. Merlin had been outside, in the biting cold, for many hours after the evening banquet, helping to haul up tents. He had been quite ready to sleep in one of them by the time he was dismissed. So, when he made it through that door and found Gaius up, waiting for him, he almost broke into tears of exhaustion. How could anybody possibly expect him to do anything else?
"You look terrible," Gaius commented, in way of a greeting. Merlin just grunted and flopped down in the nearest available chair, forehead against his folded arms.
"Don't get too comfortable. Arthur sent word he wanted your services as soon as you were done in the fields." Merlin was glad to see, on looking up, that Gaius at least looked apologetic.
Anyone else, and Merlin would have refused, would have given Gaius a message to send back that included some rather choice words and gone up to his bed instead. But Arthur? Whilst he was far too tired to get excited at the prospect, there was at least a small glimmer of hope that the prince would not make him work if he saw how exhausted his manservant was. So, instead of complaining, he just grumbled out a "Fine", and heaved himself back out into the darkened and deserted corridors.
He made it to Arthur's chambers with eyes half-open, feet dragging along the ground behind him, looking more like the walking dead than anything else. The tiny part of his brain that was still functioning reminded him to knock first, lest he alert the guards posted outside the door, but he pushed the heavy doors open without waiting for a response.
"Alright, I'm here, can I go now?"
Arthur, who had been sat up in his chair, raised an eyebrow in amusement before getting to his feet. He crossed the distance between them in a few easy strides, bringing his arms up around his lover and holding him close, letting him droop into his embrace.
"I did have plans," he mumbled, soothingly, into his ear. "But I think maybe you're too tired for them."
"That obvious, huh?"
"Come on," Arthur laughed and shook his head, pulling away so that he could take Merlin by the hand and lead him to his bed. "My plans can wait. For now, you're going to sleep. I'll make sure no one sends for you."
"Thank you, Arthur." Merlin replied with a great deal of sincerity, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling off shoes and breeches before sliding gratefully under the covers. By the time Arthur had changed himself into his nightshirt and curled himself up around his lover, Merlin was breathing the deep, easy breaths of a man fast asleep.
***
Merlin awoke to sunlight, the beautiful feeling of being well-rested, and the definite knowledge he was being watched. He shifted slightly, scrubbed at his face with one hand, and then twisted around in the gentle embrace he was still being held in. Arthur was dressed already, though obviously he had decided to come back to his bed. His eyes quickly caught and held Merlin's gaze when he turned, and Merlin immediately felt warmed by the love - and something else - that radiated there.
"Feel better?" Arthur questioned, voice soft.
"A lot. Thank you, Arthur."
Arthur smiled and shook his head, a silent way of showing that no thanks was necessary. "Well then. I think it's time. Get yourself dressed."
"Time for what?" Merlin questioned as he sat up, stretching out his muscles before getting up onto his feet.
"All in good time," Arthur responded, again with that look in his eyes that Merlin could not find words to define. "Just... get yourself dressed."
Laughing and shaking his head at Arthur's crypticness, Merlin did as he was told without further complaint. Dressing did not take long - pulling on yesterdays breeches and shoes was all that needed doing - and he was soon back at Arthur's side.
"Follow me," Arthur commanded, opening the door to his chambers and stepping out into the corridor. He led Merlin, in silence, through corridor after corridor, staircase after staircase, until they eventually appeared out on one of the castle's highest turrets. It was deserted apart from two guards, both of whom quickly disappeared after a brief word with the prince.
The views were spectacular. Merlin could see for miles, in all directions. The entire kingdom, spread out before his eyes. In the distance, he could see a steady moving column of people, carts and horses, and that was what Arthur drew his attention to when he came to stand next to him.
"They'll be here by sundown. I wanted to bring you here last night, but I'm not sure you would have made it." He offered a cheeky grin in Merlin's direction.
Merlin laughed fondly, leaning his arms against the ramparts, enjoying the feel of the breeze in his hair and Arthur's warmth close at his side. "No offense," he spoke at length, "But I don't think you brought me here just for the view." He twisted his head, watching Arthur as he looked towards the approaching tournament guests.
"Well, no," Arthur responded, not turning to meet the gaze that was on him. "You know, of all those people down there, half at most are coming purely for the sake of the tournament?"
"Uh..." Merlin was aware that was not the most intelligent response he could give, but he was rather thrown by the statement. He had not expected to be brought here for a lesson in Court politics.
"Some do, of course. Young men, good with a sword and seeking a reputation or a fortune. But for most there's some other motive. Most will not even fight me, they would rather forfeit than challenge the heir to the throne. They think that, somehow, that will endear them to me."
"Couldn't be further from the truth?" Merlin guessed.
"Precisely. A brave man will challenge whoever stands in his path. If they come to Camelot for the tournament, then they should be willing to challenge me. Those who forfeit do not show deference, or whatever the hell they believe they are showing. They just show themselves to be cowards. It will not be the ones who forfeit that I will remember, when I am on the throne... it will be the ones who are brave enough to challenge me."
"...Right." Merlin still had little idea why he was being told all this.
"But that's not all," Arthur continued, seemingly oblivious to his partner's confusion. "Many of the people coming never intend to fight. Whole families come, Lords with their sons and daughters. They put their sons in for the tournament, whilst they intend to sweet talk my father, and the daughters..." He trailed off, and finally looked Merlin in the eye.
"They bring them for you." Merlin finished his sentence for him, stomach dropping unpleasantly. Was that what that look had been in Arthur's eyes, earlier? Were his next words going to be something along the lines of 'We cannot do this anymore'?
"Yes. For me." Arthur echoed, nodded, and turned his gaze back out towards his future kingdom. "Tournaments are as political as they are fun. Far more people come here to try and get a foot in the door than come for the prize and the glory of winning the tournament. These next few weeks..."
"It's alright," Merlin was quick to respond, almost too quick. Now that the idea that he was losing Arthur had firmly rooted itself in his mind, he could do nothing to shake it. "I understand. You have to play the prince, woo the girls..."
"But I don't want to!" Arthur suddenly exclaimed, turning around and taking a few paces away from the wall, and from Merlin, before sighing and pacing back. Reaching out, he grabbed Merlin's hands, holding them tightly in his own and catching his eyes again. That look was there again, and Merlin finally thought he knew what it was.
Desperation.
"I want you. And now I have to go and 'play the prince', I have to smile at our guests and escort their daughters to banquets. And doing that? Will hurt you. That's the last thing I want."
"Arthur... Arthur, it won't hurt me. I promise. I understand, it's what you have to do."
The prince sighed, shoulders dropping along wih his eyes, and when he did look up again, the passion there seemed to have calmed, at least slightly. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Do what you have to do, Arthur. I know where your heart lies."
"Merlin..." Arthur sighed out the name, relief pronounced on every feature. "I love you."
"And I love you too. Now, are you going to calm down?" Merlin laughed, trying to lighten the mood with a quirk of his eyebrow, a quick step forward to plant a gentle kiss to Arthur's lips.
"Yes, sorry, just... one more question?" That apprehension was back, behind Arthur's eyes.
"What?"
"It's just... I've been thinking..." The prince's gaze dropped again, and he shifted his weight awkwardly between his two feet. Merlin felt the knot of worry in his gut starting to return. "You're a servant, and a man. What we have, it will always have to be secret. Even when I'm king, there's only so much I can change. And, all that... it means I'll have to take a wife, one day."
"I... I know." Merlin replied, though his voice was less certain than during Arthur's last ramble. The thought of him taking a wife was a lot harder to handle than the idea of him flirting with the daughters of noblemen for a couple of weeks.
"But that doesn't have to change anything!" Arthur's words were almost frantic. "We can still love each other, I'll make sure of it! And... and I want to prove it. Now."
Merlin's brow furrowed. He had lost the plot now, well and truly. The prince had gone quite mad. He eyed his lover suspiciously as he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled something out in his closed fist. "What's that?"
Arthur looked... no, there was no other word for it, Merlin decided; he looked shy as he unclenched his fist, revealing a pendant on a leather thong. Merlin thought it was the one the prince himself always wore, until he looked up and saw that it was still around his neck. The one in Arthur's hand was, seemingly, an identical copy.
"I want you to have this, if... if you'll accept it?" This shyness was definitely a new side to Arthur. Or, at least, a side that Merlin had never seen before. It was quite endearing. "I cannot marry you, Merlin. I cannot even make our love public. But I can show you that you mean as much to me as you would do if we could do all of those things. If you were a noblewoman, I would offer you a ring and ask you for your hand in marriage, but as things stand... I can offer you this and hope it means as much."
Merlin gaped. His eyes flicked from the pendant, to Arthur's face, and then back to the pendant. Wordlessly, he reached for the piece of jewellery, smiling as he took the two ends of the leather and tied them at the back of his neck.
"I accept."
***
"How's Arthur?"
Merlin jumped at the soft voice at his shoulder, not having heard anyone approach. He looked up from where he was polishing Arthur's armour, ready for the afternoon's continuation of the tournament. It was day four, and the competition was beginning to get tough. Arthur himself was in a foul mood, his morning's opponent having forfeited to the prince, and for once Merlin was glad of the time alone whilst the prince was required at the midday meal.
"Oh, hello Gwen," Merlin managed to smile as he turned to his friend. "Arthur? He's still in a temper from this morning. Is the Lady Morgana looking for him?" He could not think of any other reason why Gwen would be asking after the prince.
"Oh no. Just... me. Sorry, I... didn't really mean how Arthur was. On his own. I meant... with you?"
"With me?" Merlin's eyes goggled. No one knew... did they? He thought he and Arthur had kept their secret perfectly.
"Yes, with you. You know... how are you two? Together?"
"Gwen, I don't under-"
"Oh, don't give me that, Merlin. You know what my lady is capable of doing. And she keeps no secrets from me."
"Your l- Morgana knows?" Merlin's eyes were impossibly wide, now, and Arthur's armour was lying forgotten on the ground. In a sudden movement, he had reached out to clasp Gwen's arm in his hand. "Gwen, you cannot let anybody else know!"
Gwen laughed and shrugged Merlin away easily. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with us. I mean, Morgana was furious for a while, that Arthur was throwing everything away for you... but I think she's come 'round to the idea, now. And you're looking happy. Not... not that you weren't looking happy before, of course. Just... happier."
"I... I do?"
Gwen just nodded.
"Um... well, oh... alright?" Merlin really was at a loss for words. "Thank you, I guess? And... we're fine, to answer your question."
"That's... good. I have to get back to Morgana, but... you take care, Merlin. You and Arthur."
"Thank you, Gwen. We will." Merlin gave her a bright and honest smile as she turned her back and left him be. He was not granted peace for very long, however, before Arthur was back.
The prince did not look that much happier. His brow was still furrowed, his jaw was still set in that tell-tale way that meant that he would most likely yell at the first person to annoy him.
"Who am I facing this afternoon, Merlin?" He questioned as he came to stand by his manservant. "It better be somebody with a backbone this time."
"Um..." Merlin squinted across the campsite to the large wooden board that displayed the afternoon's standings. He then rifled through the sheets of paper given to each contestant, identifying the correct shield and perusing the writing underneath. "Knight Dunstan. A traveller, by the looks of things. Here for the glory, nothing more. And... he's won the last three tournaments he has entered."
Arthur's eyebrows raised, obviously impressed. "Not the sort to forfeit, then. Brilliant."
"You're not worried, that he's won his last three tournaments?" Merlin questioned as he started on getting Arthur back into his armour.
"Why should I be? I've won my last five! We'll go and have a look at him when you're done here, anyway."
Merlin nodded, suitably happy with the response, and finished dressing Arthur in companionable silence. After handing him his sword and helmet, he led the way across the camp to where his papers told him Dunstan was stationed.
The man they saw there was small, several inches shorter than Arthur, and of a very slight build. Arthur could not help but release a barked-out laugh. "Merlin, are you sure that's the right man? You could best him!"
Merlin frowned, checked the sheaf of papers again, but the shield of the man matched the shield on the board. This was definitely the undefeated Dunstan in the flesh. "I'm... I'm sure."
"Huh."
"Maybe he's... nimble?"
"Nimble?" Arthur looked over at the man he had to remember was his servant, when out in public. "Nimble?" The word amused him, obviously.
"You know. Quick on his feet. Just... watch out for him, alright?" Merlin bit down on his lip to stop himself saying any more. Arthur did not like being worried about, even when they were alone and were able to drop the master-and-servant act.
"Your concern is duly noted, Merlin," Arthur responded dryly, just as predicted. "Now come on. I have a tournament to win."
***
It all went wrong so quickly, no one really realised what had happened to begin with. Merlin had been right; what Dunstan lacked in build, he made up for in speed, constantly keeping Arthur on his toes. Arthur, however, was still fighting valiantly, defending every blow and just about managing to keep his opponent within his eyeline. Whatever changed, it happened too fast for anybody to notice. All anyone could remember seeing, later, was a perfectly normal sword battle one moment, and the next...
Merlin thought it was a trick of perspective, to begin with. These tournaments were not about killing blows, the aim was not to kill your opponent. And yet... that sword, it definitely looked like it had gone through Arthur's chest, and out the other side. The redness of the blade, as well, added to the illusion...
It was no illusion. Merlin's mind reached that horrifying conclusion at the same moment as the rest of the spectators, if the sudden increase in clamouring was anything to go by. Dunstan had just pulled his sword free of Arthur's body, letting the prince drop motionless to the ground, when the guard's sprung to action. The knight was being held by four of the king's men by the time the first screams erupted.
Merlin's body slipped into autopilot, feet carrying him as fast as possible out into the arena. He could see Gaius rushing forwards too, from his place in the stands. The young warlock reached the prince first, falling to his knees and rolling Arthur onto his back. For a moment, his heart was filled with relief at seeing Arthur's eyes still open. Filled with pain, and confusion, but at least they were still open. That relief was painfully shortlived, however, as the fallen man let loose a weak cough and blood bubbled out between his lips.
"Gaius?" Merlin begged, looking desperately at the old man who was now knelt at his side. "Gaius, do something!"
"I don't think I can, Merlin..." Gaius looked stricken as his hands pushed away blood-stained armour and clothing to get a better look at the wound. "No man can survive a wound like this..."
For a moment, Merlin lost himself to despair, eyes fixed on Arthur's face. The prince's own eyes were beginning to close, his skin paling horrifically even as he watched. Then, he pulled himself together.
"Cover me." He hissed at his mentor.
"Merlin, wh-?"
"Cover me." Merlin hissed, the mild-mannered boy Gaius knew completely lost to this desperate soul now knelt over the prince's dying body. "I can fix this."
Gaius' eyes widened, as he comprehended what Merlin was suggesting. He felt he should argue, but really, what other choice did he have? The prince had barely moments left, and if Merlin's magic might just save him? It was a risk worth taking. So, he nodded at Merlin, leaning his body over the prince so as to hide Merlin's own hands as best as possible from the deafening crowd around them.
Merlin did not know the words for a healing spell anywhere near as powerful as the one he now had need of, but desperation spurred him on. He let his fear, his panic at the possibility of losing Arthur, overtake him, and the magic surged through him as it had done so many times before when he had been in dire need. His eyes glowed gold as he pressed his hand to Arthur's wound, and moments later he felt movement beneath him. Movement, followed by a rattling cough from the prince. Merlin pulled back, elated.
The prince looked little better. His skin was still deathly white, and his cough had brought more blood dripping down his chin, but he was still alive. Still breathing. That was all that mattered for now. Between his magic, and Gaius's skills as a physician, they could find a way to heal a living person. All that mattered, right now, was that Arthur did not die. His magic had prevented that, bought them more time, and that was enough to bring hope back to Merlin's heart.
***
The first week was fraught, and ended with no sign that things were going to improve any time soon. Arthur was still alive, and that at least was something, though little more could be said in favour of a good outcome. The first few days, he had been laid out in Gaius's workroom, watched and attended to at all hours of both day and night, poultice after poultice applied to his wound, and potion after potion forced down his throat. On day four, he had been moved to his own chambers, laid out on his bed. The expression 'death bed' was commonly heard in whispers through the corridors.
He had yet to wake. A week had passed, and there were still no sign of so much of a flutter of the prince's eyelids. He was completely and utterly unresponsive; the only sign that he was even alive was the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He was staving off death, but he was not crawling back into life, either. The sole heir to the throne of Camelot was stuck in some awful limbo, between life and death, and no one had any idea what the outcome would be.
Merlin could not remember the last time he had slept. He kept a near-constant vigil at his love's side, terrified to look away even for a moment, in case that was the moment Arthur's heart finally gave out. He sat up all night, spell book in his lap, trying healing spell after healing spell, all with no effect. He wished he could do more, but daylight always brought a whole string of visitors, and he was forced into the public eye. If he was found doing magic, he would surely be executed, and then he would be no help to Arthur at all.
The king visited ever day, and more often than not Morgana would be with him. The king had no eyes for anyone but his son, and the obvious distress the king was suffering had originally surprised Merlin. He had never seemed particularly invested in his son when he had been fit and healthy, after all. Still, Merlin had seen tears in the eyes of Arthur's father, more than once, over the last week.
Merlin himself had yet to cry. He refused to do so. No matter how many times Gwen came to sit at his side, and promised him it was a natural thing to do, he stubbornly refused. To cry was to admit there was a chance Arthur was not coming back, and he refused to allow that possibility to take root in his mind. Gaius was working as hard as he possibly could to find some way of healing Arthur's injuries, and Merlin was learning and trying out new magic every day. It was just a matter of time, nothing to worry about...
***
"Merlin, it's been over a month..."
"No!" Merlin was on his feet in an instant, forcing his exhausted body into the space between Gaius and the end of Arthur's bed. He knew what the man was going to suggest, and he would not allow it. He would not let the physician give up on Arthur, not when he still refused to give up himself. He would use his magic to throw his elderly mentor from the room, if he had to. He would throw out anyone who dared suggest the end of the road had come for Arthur.
"Merlin," Gaius looked desperately sad. "I admire your loyalty, but... nobody's blaming you. You were not responsible for this, even if you were his manservant. He's not recovering, he's hardly taken on any water or broth... even if some miracle occurs and he does wake up now, his body is beyond weak. I doubt he would ever recover fully."
The dark-haired boy made himself focus on the first part of Gaius's speech, refusing to look over at Arthur and take in for himself the skeletal thinness of the body, the deathly pallor of his skin, the lanky dullness of his hair.
"This... this isn't about guilt, or responsibility!" Merlin snapped. He had to save Arthur, he knew that much, and if he had to reveal his every secret to do so, then so be it. He knew Gaius was trustworthy, at least.
"Then what, Merlin? Why do you care so much?"
Face set in an angry line, Merlin reached inside his shirt, hand closing on the pendant hanging against his heart, and pulling it out over his clothes so that Gaius could see. "I love him! He loves me. He gave me this, before the tournament began. He told me it was the closest he could give me to a betrothal. We're meant to have the rest of our lives in front of us!"
Gaius was silent for a long while, not knowing how to respond. When he did find his voice again, it was quiet and unsteady. "M-Merlin. I... I had no idea. I'm sorry... so sorry. But... all the same... Arthur's as good as dead. The king... he's given his orders. For him to be... put out of his misery."
"Put out of his misery?!" Merlin sounded completely incredulous. "What is he now, a horse? A dog? I won't let you, Gaius. I won't let you kill him!"
"Merlin, see reason! He's already de-"
"NO!" Merlin's eyes glowed gold as the magic overtook him in his desperation. He had never experienced anything so extreme before, not even in his most desperate times before his mother had sent him to Camelot. He could feel his body move, see the effects of the magic released from him, but he was powerless to stop himself. It was as if the magic had overtaken his mind, as if it were its own conscious being, using Merlin's body as nothing more than a vessel. He could only watch, completely powerless to stop himself, as his magic tossed Gaius from the room as if he weighed no more than a feather, the doors slamming and bolting behind him. Merlin's body then turned towards Arthur's bed, and again he could only watch as magic burst forth from his fingers, gold light speeding towards Arthur's body and wrapping the prince in its unnatural glow. Merlin knew this was the most powerful thing he had ever managed to do, just as he was sure that doing this again, consciously, would take years of training and practice. The magic was an unharnessed being inside him, almost impossible to tame, and his moment of weakness in front of Gaius had let its purest form burst free. It was the most terrifying experience Merlin had ever lived through.
And the most fantastic. Because that golden glow was healing Arthur, healing him like none of his practiced spells, or Gaius's diligently made potions, had ever managed. Even as he watched, colour was returning to those sallow cheeks, the beginnings of a shine returning to his blond hair. And then Merlin was graced with the most beautiful sight and sound he had ever been witness to; a deep inhale and a choking cough from the prince as his eyes snapped open.
"Arthur!" Merlin was rushing to his side at once, freed from his magical paralysis as the healing golden glow fell away from the prince's body. The man still looked terrible, the magic had done nothing for his weight, and his skin still held a very unhealthy sheen despite the slight colouring, but he was alive and he was awake.
"Mrin?" Weak from disuse, Arthur's tongue and jaw refused to cooperate and let him speak properly, but Merlin could still hear his name on the other man's lips.
"I'm here. It's alright. You're going to be alright now. Just... just, wait there! Don't go anywhere!" It was the daftest possible thing to say, but Merlin was far beyond thinking straight. He knew he had to get Gaius, right this second, and then... then everything would be alright.
***
It looked set to be a glorious day. It was surprisingly warm, with the first signs of summer in the air. It was a refreshing change after the weeks of showers Camelot had been plagued with, and Merlin could not help but walk about with a tune on his lips and a spring in his step.
"It's a beautiful day," he commented as he let himself into Arthur's chambers, opening whatever windows he could to get some fresh air into the prince's rooms. Arthur was a long way from being able to walk about unaided, but at least he could feel the heat of the day through his windows.
Kicking off his boots, Merlin joined Arthur on his bed, wrapping an arm gently around his lover and kissing his cheek. "How are you feeling today?"
"Like I've been run through with a sword, how do you think?" Arthur responded with an eye-roll, though his voice was more affectionate than sarcastic. "Better," he changed his tune, answering honestly. "Terrible, but... better."
"I'd stick with the terrible, if I were you. I told your guards you were not feeling up to any visitors this morning," Merlin offered up a cheeky little grin. "You've been awake a week and I've hardly had you alone for ten minutes without you falling asleep on me. I've had to take drastic measures."
Arthur gave a small laugh, slowly and painfully twisting himself over so that he could better look at Merlin. "Well, I'm glad you're here. I can trust you to explain everything that happened to me. Everybody seems to have a completely different story to tell."
"Um, alright," Merlin smiled fondly, happy to do whatever Arthur asked of him. Even if it was as dull as recounting his story of the last couple of months. "You were fighting that Knight Dunstan, in the tournament. I didn't really see what happened, but he ran you through. He was executed the next day. Turned out he had it in his head that killing you would make your father choose him as his heir." Merlin paused to let Arthur have his derisive laugh at his almost-killer's idiocy. "I guess you were just really lucky, I mean... you survived. Though you were out cold for over a month. Gaius has been giving you everything that he thought could possibly save you. And then, last week, I don't know what happened... I was sitting here with you, and just like that you were awake."
"You... you were standing."
"What?"
"When I woke up... you were at the end of my bed. You weren't sat down at all. And... there was something strange about your eyes."
Merlin struggled to fight down the panic inside of him. Not now, he begged silently to whatever deity might be listening to him. Please don't let me have to have this conversation now.
"Are you sure, Arthur?" Merlin tried his best to sound casual. "I'm sure I was sat at your side. You'd been asleep for a month, you were probably delirious."
"Merlin, stop being an idiot and tell me the truth."
Merlin swallowed, hard. This was not how he had imagined explaining his magic. "A-Arthur... I... there's something I should probably tell you."
"What?" Arthur's brow furrowed slightly.
"I... I woke you up. And I healed you, in the tournament arena. I... well, maybe it's easier to show you." Sitting up, Merlin took a deep breath and, fixing his mind on one of the spare pillows, levitated it. He floated it around for a good while, right in front of Arthur's face, so that there was no way the prince could miss it. Finally, he set the pillow back down and, almost shyly, finished his explanation. "I can do magic."
For the longest while, uneasy silence fell between the two men, Arthur unsure of what to say and Merlin unable to look at his partner. It was Arthur who eventually spoke first.
"Well..."
Merlin winced at the word, finally daring himself to look up into Arthur's eyes.
"Well," the prince repeated. "We've managed to keep our relationship hidden from my father for half a year, now. I think we can manage to keep another secret, don't you?"
"You're not going to have me executed?" Merlin's heart leapt with relief.
"I'd really rather not, Merlin." Typical Arthur, to pull off such a smouldering smirk when he was too sick to even get himself out of bed. "I've grown to quite love you, you see. It would be somewhat of an inconvenience, if I had to have you killed now."
Merlin could not help but laugh, a full and happy laugh, whole body overflowing with love, gratitude and, most importantly, relief. "I've grown to quite love you, too," he echoed, the smile on his face somewhere between amused and deeply loving. Leaning closer, he pressed a string of kisses over Arthur's face, from cheek to cheek, before brushing his hair back from his forehead. He could not help but notice that Arthur was starting to look groggy again, already.
"Go back to sleep," he suggested, pressing a soft kiss to the newly exposed skin of Arthur's forehead. "You need to rest and get your strength back up."
Arthur grunted, not needing to be told twice, and quickly fell back into an untroubled sleep. Merlin smiled softly as he watched his prince, wrapping his arms tighter around that too-thin chest and pulling him in closer.
They may have another secret to weigh them both down, but Merlin's heart had never felt lighter.