Archive of Our Own ^beta

It wasn’t often that Arthur got to explore the markets of Camelot at a leisurely pace, but today was a special day, after all.  The May festival always bloomed the brightest over his kingdom, both figuratively in the looks of joy on the faces of his people as well as literally with hundreds upon thousands of flowers blossoming everywhere one looked.  Crowns of daffodils and violets adorned the heads of women and girls, and there were many men and boys alike clutching a bouquet in their hands while peeking furtively at a special someone.

Arthur had no flowers, either in his hands or otherwise.  He still tipped a few coins to each of the stalls, as he had all of the other sellers along his path, but he had none to gift such a thing to at the moment.  

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t enjoying himself.  Arthur had spent the first hour of the day just diving into the wares at the smithy.  He would never -probably could never- replace Excalibur, but the dents in his helmet had been pounded out one too many times, and his dagger was starting to grow on the thin side from sharpening.  Or, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true, but even if it wasn’t, one could never have too many daggers.  And if one could, they were still excellent gifts to give to others.  Percival could use a new one.  In fact, it might be a good idea to swing back to that stall and find one that suited Percival’s arm length…

“I can already see the cogs churning in your brain, and no, you are not going back there.”

Arthur didn’t jump -Merlin had never been stealthy enough in his life to actually sneak up on anyone completely unnoticed- but he did swing around with a scowl to face the other man.  “You promised you couldn’t read minds.”

Merlin rolled his eyes.  Unlike Arthur, he had a bright blue flower tucked behind his ear, and a smudge of brown at the corner of his mouth that hinted at a few too many sweets.  “I don’t have to read minds, Arthur.  I can just read you .  It’s blatantly obvious to anyone who looked at you that you’re daydreaming about buying more shiny pokey things.”

“If anyone would know about daydreaming it’s you.”  Arthur plucked the flower from Merlin’s hair before Merlin could swat him away.  “A token from your sweetheart?  You know you’re supposed to buy the flowers for her, don’t you?  Though this was a good choice.  It brings out the size of your ears.”

Merlin flushed and scowled, grabbing the now slightly crumpled flower back and tucking it back into place.  “You’re just jealous no one got any for you.”

“Oh shut up, Merlin.  I’m the king.  Of course everyone wants to give me presents, but I learned years ago how to discourage that kind of thing or else I’d be drowning in rubbish.”

“I used to clean your chambers, remember?  I’m well aware of just how much rubbish you’ve accumulated.”  Before Arthur could snap a retort, Merlin continued.  “For your information, Gwen gave it to me.  She’s helping out at a friend’s stall today since you’ve got Lancelot on duty, and she asked me to stop by.  She wanted to thank me for the charm I put on her roof to keep out leaks last week.  They’d had to move Astrid into their bed to keep her dry.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the fond warmth inside.  “That’s my mighty court sorcerer.  Always rescuing damsels in distress.”

“I’m not a damsel !”

The two of them turned to find a small child scowling up at them, arms crossed mulishly over her chest.  Astrid, Guinevere and Lancelot’s only child, was a slight girl, her dark corkscrew curls never seeming to be able to be contained no matter how hard her mother tried.  Arthur had often seen her sneaking back to her house at the end of the day with twigs stuck in her loose tresses from romping through the woods, either while determinedly keeping up with her friends or chasing after Merlin as he went about his chores. 

“Of course you aren’t, milady.”  Merlin swept an exaggerated bow at the girl, earning a giggle as he nearly overbalanced himself.  He plucked the flower from his ear and tucked it behind hers.  “There, perfect.”

Astrid blushed and giggled again, her ire immediately forgotten.  “But now you don’t have one!”

Well that was easily solved.  Arthur turned to the nearest booth, which held dozens upon dozens of snowdrops.  He grabbed two, tipping the proprietor well, then gave Astrid the same deep bow Merlin had, though unlike the other man he had no trouble staying firmly on his feet.  “For you.”  He straightened and dropped the other snowdrop on top of Merlin’s head.  “And for you.”

“I’m overwhelmed by your charm, sire.  How ever will I pay you back?”  There was a shout from down the street as a group of older men caught sight of the court sorcerer and began to wave him over.  “I guess by keeping your kingdom in one piece.”  He bowed to Astrid again, catching the flower deftly as it fell from his head.  “Farewell, my lady.”

Arthur watched him trot off, following the men to whatever conundrum required his magical attention today.  In the years since the magic ban had been lifted, he’d never ceased to be amazed how easily the people of Camelot had grown accustomed once more to having sorcery available to them once more.  Granted, many of the eldest could remember a time before the purge.  But even those who had grown up at the same time as Arthur had had embraced the change more quickly than he’d anticipated.  Maybe it helped that Merlin, their most prominent magical figure, could not help but make himself beloved by anyone within the walls, his ridiculous affability and goofy smile drawing in young and old alike, tricking them into seeing only the most innocent sparkle in his eyes no matter what sorcery was coming out of his fingers.

A tug on his arm brought him back to the present.  “Uncle Arthur, I got you a present too.  See?”

She held up a grubby package.  It had clearly spent some time in her pocket as she ran about the market that morning.  Arthur took it, freeing the ribbon which he tucked graciously in his pocket before unwrapping the scrap of cloth.  Inside lay a small cut gem, ruby red and trussed up with a thin length of cord fashioning it into a necklace.

“It’s red, like your favourite colour!” Astrid declared.  “I got it for you to wear.  Lots of people have them, so I thought you should have one too!”

Arthur looped the cord over his neck.  The stone was warmer than he’d expected against his skin, likely heated from the girl’s pocket over the day.  He was impressed by how light the construction was.  He barely felt it as it settled into place.  “It’s perfect, thank you, Astrid.”

“Will you wear it for always?”

“Of course I shall.”  He kissed her cheek, making her blush.  “How could I ever give up such a gift?”

While most knights chose to take up residence within the castle, Guinevere and Lancelot had decided to keep her childhood home.  Gwen had never been that comfortable with castle rooms, even when she was still Morgana’s maid and had a chamber off Morgana’s quarters assigned to her use.  Occasionally Lancelot would spend the night if he needed to leave early or stay late, but Guinevere’s own stays were rare.

Arthur could understand why she preferred her own home.  While he had grown up in the citadel and never really experienced anything different, he could see why someone who had been raised in a place like this would find a castle room like staying in an inn- not unwelcoming, but you spent your nights knowing that nothing that space truly belonged to you.  Guinevere’s home was sparse, but every item had its own story, and if she were to ever leave, she could take every single one of them if she wished without fear someone might accuse her of stealing.

Astrid set a loaf of bread on the table, then plopped down on the bench beside him.  “Do you like your present, Uncle Arthur?”

Arthur pulled aside the collar of his shirt to reveal the jewel still hanging from the leather thong.  “Of course I do!  Merlin likes it too.  He got jealous when I told him you gave it to me.”

For a moment Astrid looked dismayed.  She was enamoured with Merlin, as he was with her.  Arthur was sure it was because they were both children at heart, despite Merlin’s insistence he was a full grown man.  He’d caught the two of them more than once in the middle of plotting or pulling off a prank around Camelot..

“I’ll get him one too!  Do you think if I go tomorrow they’ll have another one?”

Gwen deposited a plate of sliced pork next to the bread and kissed her daughter on the top of her head.  “Didn’t you just finish making Merlin that new neckerchief?  I thought you were going to give him that.”

“Oh yeah!”  Astrid bounced in her seat.  “Can I go give it to him, Mama?  I know where he is!  I asked if he was coming for dinner tonight, and he said no because he was going to see Gaius!”

“Merlin is busy eating supper, darling.  Like we’re about to do.”  Lancelot scooped a pile of roasted vegetables onto her plate.  Astrid made a face, but reluctantly stabbed at a carrot.

Lancelot and Guinevere took their seats, serving themselves without regard for their royal guest.  It had taken a long time to break them of the habit of jumping to take care of him while he was at their dinners.  It was easier when Merlin was there.  He completely ignored that he was dining with the king.  Arthur guessed it was his years of practice being atrocious at his former job.  Now that he wasn’t contractually obligated to serve Arthur, one would have guessed Arthur was no more important a dinner guest than a mere pig farmer.

Secretly Arthur couldn’t help but love that, though he would never let on.

“Did you give flowers to anyone today, Uncle Arthur?”

Arthur tweaked her braid.  “Only you, magpie.  And Merlin, of course, but I owed him one for wrinkling his a bit before he gave it to you.  Accidentally of course,” he added quickly, lest the little girl get offended on Merlin’s behalf.

“Speaking of flowers, I heard Lady Ivy was coming to visit her brother for the summer season.  I remember her from her visit when he started page training.  She was very kind to me, even though I was just a general maidservant at the time.”

Arthur knew exactly what Gwen was getting at and groaned inwardly.  It was the same implied tone every time some eligible woman showed up on his doorstop.  She never pushed, unlike his council, but Arthur could feel her judgement that he should have settled down by now.

Lancelot was always quiet during these conversations.  They’d had several long heart-to-hearts back when Guinevere admitted that she loved Lancelot, and Arthur admitted that his feelings for her, while never false, truthfully did not measure up to the depth she described.  While their general relationship was as strong as ever, Lancelot always seemed a bit nervous and guilty when Arthur’s single status came up, as if Arthur might blame him.

“I’ll admit I don’t recall much about her.  I was busy with my own training around the same time as Lucan, after all.  He’s a good knight.  I’m glad he’s able to have a visit from family.  I hope she enjoys her time here.”

“I have several events planned for the season she’ll need an escort for.  Lucan is married, isn’t he?  I hope they are able to find someone to accompany her.”

Lancelot sighed.  “Gwen-”

“I just don’t like you being alone in that draughty castle, Arthur.”

“There are literally hundreds of people living there, Guinevere.”

“You know what I mean.  Who do you talk to late at night?  Who do you go to when you have a problem you need to discuss?  Besides me or Merlin,” she added before he could answer.

“I’ve never needed anyone else.  You’ve always been there whenever I needed you, and I couldn’t get rid of Merlin if I tried.  And I actually have tried enough to know.”

“What about…” Gwen glanced over at Astrid, “things Merlin and I can’t provide?”

Arthur knew she didn’t mean it the same way his council did.  They were desperate for him to produce the kingdom with an heir.  He had no siblings, nor had his father.  He had a second cousin who could technically inherit, but Reginald had never even set foot in Camelot in his life.  There was no way he could hold the love for Arthur’s kingdom, nor his people give their loyalty back, in the same way as a lifelong citizen.

But to Gwen, it was about more than politics.  Arthur had never had a mother to compare to, but even he could see Gwen was one of the best.  She adored her daughter, as did Lancelot.  He didn’t blame them.  He was just as much in love with their little girl, allowing her far more leeway for misbehaviour than he ever did any of the pages.

“I get by just fine.”  He couldn’t say he didn’t want a child of his own.  His family may not have been as, well, family as Gwen’s was, but there had been something to knowing that he had one, however dysfunctional.  But he couldn’t let that control his desire to marry, nor who.  There was too much else he had to consider instead.  The wrong choice at the wrong time could send everything he’d worked for toppling to the ground.  The life of a king could never be an easy one, neither his public decisions nor his private ones.  “I can’t get rid of you either, can I, magpie?”

Astrid threw her arms around his waist, ignoring the pork juices on her fingers.  “Never ever.”

Arthur could tell Gwen wasn’t satisfied with that answer -she never was- but Lancelot wasn’t his best knight for nothing.  As always when he sensed his wife was getting the bit between her teeth, he jumped in with a distraction.  “Speaking of summer, do you think the new crop of squires will be ready for the summer border tour?”

Arthur latched on to the new topic eagerly.  Gwen gave them both a small glare, fully aware she was being put off, but she would never fight them in front of Astrid.  He felt himself relax as conversation drifted away from his personal life.

Of course, Gwen couldn’t let him get away for the night without getting the last word.  “I just want you to be happy, Arthur.”

“That’s sweet, Guinevere, but I am happy.  I promise.”

“I’m not saying you’re not.  I’m just… you deserve everything, Arthur.  Let yourself be open to that.”

Merlin’s mornings were much different now that he was court sorcerer instead of a servant.  While he still rose with the dawn, his first tasks of the day were now for himself.  

He checked his brew first.  The potion had been fermenting for the past two weeks now.  Once it was finished, it was meant to be a powerful treatment for newborns who were having trouble with breathing after birth.  The druids swore by it, and Gaius had been eager to try some once they described its effects.  Apparently one swipe on the baby’s chest could solve any number of ailments affecting the lungs.  They had just a couple weeks left on this batch, and finally they could give it a try.  The druids were hopeful that with the strength of Merlin’s magic, it would be even more effective than usual.

Next he took a tally of his supply cupboard.  Gaius had mentioned last night he was running low on ragwort and feverfew.  While both he and Merlin technically had a boy assigned to them to handle that kind of task, Merlin still preferred to go hunt for the herbs himself when he had a chance.  It was a good excuse to get out of the castle for the day, or at least a couple of hours.  He only utilised Gareth when Arthur was being too much of a stubborn clotpole to be left alone for that long.  Merlin may not have been his official nursemaid anymore, but he was still the best at keeping him out of trouble.

Or trying to at least.  Arthur was a grand champion of finding trouble.

Once the sun had risen a bit further in the sky and the pinks and oranges of sunrise had faded, he made his way down from his tower and through the hall.  Arthur had insisted if he was going to be “blowing things up with his magic” that he do so as far away from innocent citizens as possible.  Apparently that equated to a tower just down the corridor from Arthur’s own rooms, which Merlin took to mean Arthur did not count himself among the innocent.  Arthur simply boxed his ears when he said that.

His timing was perfect.  Arthur was just sitting down at his table, laden with breakfast dishes.  As always there was more food there than a single person could eat in a day, let alone one meal.  Arthur had decided it was a conspiracy among the cooks to fatten him up, but Merlin had overheard them saying they did it on purpose ever since they’d caught him stealing a few sausages off Arthur’s plate years ago.  If there was anyone they wanted to fatten up, it seemed to be him.

“Mmm, cheese!  I love a good fresh goat’s cheese in the morning.”

Merlin reached for a piece, fully expecting Arthur to swat his hand away.  Even with mounds of food at his disposal and a decade of futility, he could never allow Merlin to share without at least a pretence of a fight.  Instead, Arthur just shoved the plate over to Merlin’s usual seat without a word.

Merlin dropped down into the chair with a raised eyebrow.  “What, already full?  Is this your second breakfast or something?”

Arthur rolled his eyes.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Merlin.  You want the cheese, I gave you the cheese.”

“You have never given me cheese before.  Or any food.  Or any thing .”

“That is patently untrue.  I gave you your tower.  And your position.”

“Ah yes, remind me to fall on my knees in gratitude later that you, in your benevolence, would grant me a roof over my head and consign me to waiting on your every magical need for the rest of my life.”

Sarcasm aside, Merlin truly was grateful.  Arthur had taken the initial revelation of his magic less than well.  Given the law, he would have been fully within his rights to strike Merlin down on the spot.  But while Arthur could not say he hadn’t been close to doing so, in the end, he hadn’t.  Slowly they had begun to heal their relationship with each other, and Arthur’s relationship with magic, until the golden age Merlin had once been promised actually seemed to be dawning.

“Is there something else you would like?”

It wasn’t so much the words that made Merlin’s eyebrows arch even higher than Gaius’s ever had, but the tone.  Arthur spoke as if he actually wanted to know what Merlin wanted.  Which was… unusual to say the least.

“Let’s just… stick to the cheese for now.”  Merlin lifted a bite to his lips.  Arthur didn’t stop him.  Cautiously he lowered his eyelids just enough to hide the glow of his eyes and inspected the morsel with his magic.  No poisons, curses, or general signs of tampering.  His nose didn’t detect any unusual smells.  Arthur began to look at him as if he was the one behaving oddly, so he slowly placed the cheese in his mouth.

It was fine.

Seemingly satisfied, Arthur tucked into his own meal, relaying as always all the tasks he wanted Merlin to complete for the day.  Slowly Merlin began to relax.  This, at least, was familiar territory.  As always, Arthur’s schedule for them both was more than should have been expected of three men, but that was just typical Arthur, convinced he could fit just one more thing into the day even when he was dead on his feet.  Hence the nursemaiding.

“Fine, as long as I can go gather herbs tomorrow.  Gaius needs his stores replenished, and so do I.”

“That’s supposed to be your servant’s job, or the apprentice’s.  I need you here.”

“You can spare me for a few hours.  You’ve survived just fine before, though the goddess knows how.”

“I’m a fully trained knight, Mer lin.  I could kill you ten different ways with nothing more than a stick.”

Merlin was about to snap back that he didn’t even need the stick, but while he could get away with that back when Arthur didn’t know just how true it was, he still feared messing up their dynamic too much to press his luck now.  Instead he said, “If that’s the case, then why did you waste all that gold on half a dozen weapons yesterday?”

As expected, Arthur launched into a soliloquy on exactly how wrong Merlin was, in every conceivable way.  Merlin just leaned back in his chair and popped another chunk of cheese in his mouth with a grin.

If he’d thought that would be the end of Arthur’s strange behaviour, however, he was wrong.  The next day as Merlin collected supplies from the kitchen for his morning trek, a sack was already ready and waiting.  “Orders of the king,” shrugged one of the scullery maids.  “He asked that we slip some of the sweet rolls from last night in there too.”

Merlin took the sack, but he couldn’t help but wonder at Arthur’s suspicious new need to see him well fed.

Later that night, he learned food was not the only thing Arthur was freshly determined to see he receive.  When Merlin yawned just a bit too wide a few too many times over a late planning session with the knights, Arthur dismissed him and insisted he go to bed, assuring him someone would fill him in if needed in the morning.

It wasn’t that Merlin didn’t think Arthur cared about him.  He knew he did, deep, deep down.  It was just that Arthur was never one to show that care.  Even when he’d been courting Gwen he’d often had to be reminded that it was okay to do things that might actually hint to her he had a heart.  The only conclusion Merlin could come to was that Arthur was buttering him up for something.  There had to be some atrocious task, or dreaded event, or terrible hat he wanted out of Merlin.  Something so awful that he was afraid Merlin’s current loyalty wouldn’t stretch far enough to grant him a yes.

Given he was well aware Merlin’s loyalty would amount to laying down his life for his king, that something had to be awful indeed.

“Would you stop fidgeting, Merlin?” Arthur hissed out of the corner of his mouth.  “You’re driving me mad.”

“Consider it revenge then,” Merlin muttered under his breath.  It had been weeks now, and he still hadn’t solved the mystery of Arthur’s sudden consideration.  A bit louder, though only enough so he reached Arthur’s ears, he said, “My mother is due in today.”

Arthur’s annoyance melted a little and was replaced with a small smile.  “Yes, I remember.  But she’ll keep until you’ve finished your duties to me.”

This had been another of Arthur’s odd little kindnesses.  One night while they had supper, out of the blue he had asked after Hunith’s well-being.  After happily relating the contents of her last letter, Merlin had mentioned that he hadn’t had the chance to see her in ages.  Arthur decided that it was time to rectify that and sent for her to come visit.

The last time Merlin had gone to see his mother had been after Arthur discovered his magic.  She’d been his only support for so long when it came to sorcery, protecting him even when it could have cost her her life.  Merlin often wondered if he would have been so brave if it had been him, alone with a magical child who had no control, no knowledge that the sparkles he created over his cot simply to entertain himself could get them both killed.  He owed his mother everything, and he was determined she would get it.

But first he had to make it through the morning petitions.  Though the final word on all of the petitions from the people of Camelot was Arthur’s, these days many of the quandaries or solutions had to do with magic.  Merlin would signal if he could actually help or not, and Arthur would decide which petitioners received his services. So far today Merlin was committed to inspecting an odd purple blight that had infected a nearby field, eradicating a pesky goblin that had taken up residence in a widow’s home, and determining if magical pranks should be added to the list of banned spells.

The latter problem brought up another issue Merlin had been avoiding talking to Arthur about.  Now that it wasn’t forbidden, more and more people, including children like the two boys who had been hauled up before them today, were testing themselves with magic spells to see if they, too, had a talent for magic.  But unlike Merlin, they had no Gaius (nor fear of having their head chopped off for the slightest slip up) to teach them discipline.  They needed to set somewhere up where sorcery could be taught safely and comprehensively.  But Merlin was no teacher.  He might one day be convinced to take on an apprentice or two, but running a school was another task entirely.  Until he had a solution for that, he didn’t feel it was fair to put the conundrum on Arthur’s plate.

Finally the last citizen filed out of the hall, and Arthur stood, stretching his spine with an audible pop.  Merlin stepped out of sight for a moment and let his eyes flash.  As the spell took effect, Arthur whirled on him with a scowl.

“I thought I told you to stop doing that.”

“It’s just a little spell to help you relax.”

“Not that. That .” Arthur waved his arms to indicate Merlin’s position just behind his throne. “Stop hiding whenever you do magic.  How is anyone else supposed to trust me if you don’t?”

Merlin hung his head, suitably shamed.  He did trust Arthur.  But thirty years of hiding was a hard habit to break.  “I’m sorry, Arthur.  Well, then can I at least get rid of that headache, fully in your knowledge?”

“Please do.”

Merlin reached out a hand and rested it on the nape of Arthur’s neck, reciting the incantation he’d wished he could have used a hundred times back when his magic was still a secret.  Arthur let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and leaning heavily into his touch.  Merlin could feel himself relaxing as well at the show of trust and content. He left his fingers in place a bit longer than he needed to, rejoicing that Arthur still did not pull away.  Now that he wasn’t his servant, he rarely had an excuse to touch Arthur these days.  Occasionally when George was off on another task he would help Arthur with his armour, or adjust a tie that Arthur had decided to attempt -and then mangle the doing of- himself, but those times were so few and far between.

As much as Merlin loved being able to do magic freely, he did miss his time with Arthur.  Yes, he invaded most of his mealtimes and sat beside him in council or public sessions, but he didn’t have a reason anymore to sit on the sidelines and watch Arthur train, or join him on patrol, or just relax in his chambers pretending to do chores while Arthur pretended -well, it wasn’t always pretend- to berate him.  He wouldn’t give up being court sorcerer instead of a lowly servant for anything, but sometimes he wished he could dismiss George and sit beside Arthur’s tub scrubbing his hair like he used to, while Arthur let the heat of the bath wash away the boundaries between them and talked softly of whatever was weighing on his mind.

“Sire?”

Merlin let his hand drop as Leon entered the room. There was no point in thinking about what was in the past.  They had a future to build.

“Yes, Sir Leon?”

“If I might steal away Lord Merlin, he has a visitor.”

Merlin bounced on the balls of his heels, but a decade in Camelot had finally beat enough protocol into him that he didn’t immediately rush out of the room.  He did grant Arthur with the largest puppy eyes he could manage though.

Arthur, the evil toad, just smirked. “Actually you may not.”

“ What ?  Arthur, but you promised -”

“You can’t steal him because I will be coming along to greet Hunith as well.”

Merlin glared at him, and this time he did storm out without a dismissal.

Arthur was right behind him, still chuckling away at his little joke.  Merlin spent the trip across the castle cursing him out, making sure the royal prat heard every last word.

Unfortunately, as they entered Gaius’s chambers so did Hunith.

“Merlin!  Surely that isn’t the boy I raised.  You apologise to King Arthur right now.”

“Yeah, Merlin.”  Arthur’s grin had grown even larger now, the self-satisfied prat.  “You should know better than to say such things to your betters.”

“If I find one I’ll be sure to keep it in mind,” Merlin snapped back.

His mother flicked his ear. “ Merlin. ”

“Fine. I’m sorry. ”

He would be less sorry tonight when he slipped a frog under Arthur’s covers.

“Now give your mother a hug.”

That Merlin did eagerly, sweeping her up in a tight embrace.  Sometimes he forgot how much he needed just the reassurance of her presence.  Maybe now that he was court sorcerer and titled he could convince her to stay in Camelot and be pampered the way she deserved.  He had been sending her money to support her ever since his first day of working for Arthur, but now he had the means to do even more. And he would love to be able to see her every day instead of only the rare visit.

When they finally released each other, Hunith then turned to Arthur, embracing him as well.  Merlin watched as Arthur’s cheeks turned bright red, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her in return.  Hunith took no heed of his awkward stiffness, squeezing him just as tightly as she had Merlin and pressing a kiss against his cheek as she pulled away.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Mother. I have so much to show you around Camelot.  I know you’ll want time to spend catching up with Gaius too, but Arthur promised to release me from as many duties as possible so we can spend time together.”

That was a rather loose interpretation of their conversation, but Merlin was taking advantage of the fact that Arthur was not likely to contradict him to his mother’s face.

“That’s wonderful, my darling boy.  I have a lot I need to talk to you about too.”  She reached a hand behind her, drawing Merlin’s attention for the first time to a strange man standing behind her. The man stepped forward and took her overstretched hand, threading their fingers together.  Merlin just stared, his brain unable to comprehend what the gesture meant.  “Merlin, this is Alban.  We’re getting married.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Merlin-”

“I know this is surprising for you, but Alban is a lovely man.  I know you’re going to love him once you two get to know each other.”

Alban reached out his free hand towards Merlin with a hesitant smile. He was an inch or two shorter than Merlin himself, with weathered tan skin that indicated he was probably a farmer of some kind. His straw blond hair was cropped short, drawing more attention to his rapidly receding hairline.  His shoulders were broad, like Arthur’s, with muscles built from a life of manual labour rather than weapons training.  His brown eyes met Merlin’s own with wavering confidence, and Merlin had a feeling if he kept staring this man would be the first to look away.

Only his mother’s pleading gaze made him reach out and shake the hand, which was cool and clammy in his grasp. He dropped it as soon as he could get away with it.  Alban smiled a bit more broadly, revealing a row of crooked teeth, and wrapped an arm around Hunith’s shoulders.

“I have to get back to work now, Mother.  Gaius should be around soon.  I’ll see you for supper tonight.”

Merlin did not flee from the room, no matter what anyone observing might have called it.  He’d simply sensed the rapidly decreasing oxygen in the space and made the sensible decision to vacate for his and everyone else’s safety.

Arthur decided to give Merlin some space before hunting him down.  Contrary to Merlin’s parting words, Arthur knew he had been excused from attending the council that afternoon. After all, Arthur had been the one to give the pardon, hoping to give mother and son time together.  Not that Merlin showed up anyway.

He found him in his tower.  Merlin slowly stirred a large cauldron of simmering pink liquid.  Next to him on a table was an array of ingredients, most of which Arthur could not hope to name, nor did he want to attempt to.  He’d lost all curiosity when he’d badgered Merlin into telling him what was in his tonic one night and learned it was partially made with pond scum. Considering the taste of the thing, to this day Arthur wasn’t entirely sure if that was true and had no desire to ever find out.

“So this is what you’ve been up to while avoiding your mother all afternoon?”

Merlin just scowled down at his mixture, ladling some of it into a phial and adding a few drops of what Arthur hoped was pure water until it turned blue and then setting it aside and repeating the process with a new phial. “I’m not avoiding her. I’m working. Or do you not want this cough remedy this winter?”

“Considering it’s June, I think we’ll survive with our current stores for a few more days.  What’s wrong with your mother wanting to get married?  I thought you were all about the power of love.”

“You don’t know that they love each other!  You don’t know anything about him!”

“Neither do you,” Arthur pointed out gently.

He had no point of reference for Merlin’s emotions right now. His own father had never expressed a desire to remarry, outside that one time he’d been enchanted by that horrible troll.  Of course Arthur had been just as upset about the union at the time, but that had had more to do with how clearly his father’s personality had been changed by the so-called “Lady Catrina’s” influence. As far as he could tell Hunith seemed the same sweet, caring woman as ever. Unless there was something Merlin knew that he didn’t.

“Did you sense something about him?  Is this one of your ‘funny feelings?’”

Merlin snorted, but he at least put down the glass in his hands before it ended up shattered somewhere in the room. “You never care about my ‘funny feelings.’”

“Of course I do.”  Potential projectile neutralised, Arthur stepped closer, resting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “I care about all your feelings.”

“And then there’s that!  Has everyone gone mad around here?  My mother thinks she needs to marry some stranger, and then you’re being so bloody nice to me… I just want things to go back to the way they were.”

Outburst complete, Merlin slumped in defeat.  He let Arthur lead him over to his bed, where he dropped with a sigh.  Arthur took a seat next to him.  When Merlin didn’t push him away, he decided it was safe to try again.  “You never talk about your father.  Tell me about him.”

“I know as much as you do about your mother.  Less, probably.”

Arthur could feel the reluctance in Merlin’s voice, but he took a risk and pressed again.  “Tell me what you do know.”

“He was a sorcerer,” Merlin flung it out like an accusation, but Arthur didn’t react.  “He was a dragonlord too, like me.  It’s inherited.  I couldn’t do it until he passed.”

“I’m sorry...”  Arthur could not relate to much in Merlin’s life, but the loss of a parent, that pain at least he knew well.  Then memories came flooding back to him.  “But when the dragon attacked, you didn’t…”

Merlin looked away.  “Because he wasn’t dead yet.  Balinor.  He was my father.”

Arthur thought back to the last time he had seen the man he’d once thought to be the last dragonlord.  The man had lain bleeding out on the cold forest floor, speared by the sword intended for Merlin.  Arthur hadn’t been able to get there in time, but Balinor had not even hesitated, jumping in front of the blow he must have known he could not survive.  For his son.  The son who had cried over his body even as Arthur had thoughtlessly dragged him away.

“He left Ealdor to protect us.  Or well, to protect her.  He didn’t know about me at the time.  But he told me how much he loved my mother.  How much he wanted to stay.  I was going to bring him back to her, after.  But then… they never got to have a chance.  And now he’s being replaced, and by who?  Who even is this man?  What does she even know about him?”

He wished he knew the right words to say.  He wasn’t sure there were any right words for this moment.  But he knew he had to say something to ease the tension on Merlin’s face.  It wasn’t right for those eyes to be so stormy.  He would do anything to brighten them again.  “Look, Merlin, if you don’t trust him, then I trust you.  But will you do me a favour please?  Just give him a small chance.  Give your mother a chance.  Sometimes… just because we fall in love with someone else doesn’t mean the love we had for another wasn’t real.”

Arthur leaned forward then and pressed a soft kiss against Merlin’s lips.  Merlin didn’t move, blinking blankly at him as he pulled away.  “Why did you do that?”

Arthur blinked back.  The lie was on the tip of his tongue.  He hadn’t meant to.  He’d been caught up in the moment.  He just wanted to make Merlin feel better.  Clearly Merlin had gone mad and imagined the entire thing.

But he couldn’t bring himself to say any of those things.  Instead the only words his mouth would allow were: “Because I wanted to.”

Merlin didn’t respond. Arthur could feel his muscles tensing up, every instinct telling him to flee, but his body would not obey his commands.  Instead he was forced to sit there, eyes locked with Merlin’s, silently begging him to say something, anything.  And praying that whatever he said wasn’t about to break his heart.

After so long Arthur began to think Merlin truly wasn’t going to anything at all, he whispered, “I wanted you to too.”

Merlin spent the next few days in the most elated and miserable and utterly confused state of his life.

On the one hand, he was doing his best to follow Arthur’s request to give Alban a chance.  He could not deny his mother seemed happy.  She waxed eloquent about Alban’s farm, which was actually not in Ealdor, but a nearby village across the border inside Camelot. He’d come through Ealdor on his way to one of the larger towns seeking to trade for a new horse and ended up breaking his leg in an accident. Unable to travel home, Hunith had offered to put him up until he could walk safely again.  During that time they had grown close, and one thing led to another.

Merlin deliberately stopped listening after that.  He didn’t need to know what kind of things his mother got up to. But he did find it suspicious that this man happened to go to Ealdor, a tiny blip not even present on a map, and he just happened to sustain an injury while there so dire he could not travel for weeks.  That was too many coincidental things at once to his mind. He’d not spent ten years protecting Arthur from evil-doers to not recognise when things didn’t add up around a person.

At least he could rest assured Alban didn’t have magic and hadn’t actually put a spell on his mother.  Merlin would never admit it to a soul, but he’d checked while they sat eating dinner that first night.  He thought Gaius might have caught him at it, but if he did he said nothing.  But that didn’t mean there was nothing else going on.  Merlin stayed on high alert every time he was in Alban’s presence, watching for any signal that he was up to no good.  Giving the man a chance didn’t mean he had to trust him unquestioningly.

But then that brought him back to Arthur.  Arthur who had kissed him.  Who had not taken it back but indeed kissed him again.  And again.  And no matter how long Merlin waited for the other shoe to fall, did not seem to have any intention but to do it again and again in the future.

Merlin was fairly certain he had been in love with Arthur since the day he chose to believe his brand new servant over a knight when he came to him with wild accusations about magical snake shields.  While Arthur might have turned on him after, having been humiliated in front of his father, the fact that he had been willing to take a chance in the first place told Merlin the kind of man that was hiding underneath the blustering façade.

But he had never dared to hope that those feelings might be returned.  Arthur was fond of him, he’d never doubted that.  Deep down, he might even admit to considering Merlin his best friend, even if kings and servants could not be friends (not that Merlin had been his manservant for years now).  But love?  Arthur’s love was reserved for people like Gwen, beautiful and kind and, well, female.

Yet Merlin’s lack of those qualities didn’t seem to be holding Arthur back now.  Something had broken that emotionally constipated dam inside him and was allowing him to show affection that even Merlin, who believed in Arthur’s goodness more than anyone in Camelot, had not previously thought him capable of.

The why now was driving him slightly mad, but then Arthur would smile unreservedly at him, and he couldn’t let himself dwell on it for too long.

For now the only people they let in on their new relationship change were Gwen and Merlin’s mother.  Merlin could not have lied to his mother if he tried, and Arthur still felt a slight sense of guilt even with Gwen having chosen to marry another years ago.  He needn’t have worried.  Gwen had been delighted for them, squealing and hugging them both tightly, practically planning their wedding already.  Hunith, on the other hand, had been more hesitant.

“It’s not that I’m not happy for you, my boy,” she began.  Thankfully she had waited until a moment when they were alone to voice her thoughts.  This was too new for Merlin not to fear that any sign of resistance might send Arthur running for the hills.  “But I don’t want to see you get hurt.  A king needs a queen, and while I have always believed that Arthur cares for you, you cannot change who you are.  There are many challenges ahead of you, darling.  I am your mother; I will always seek to protect your heart.”

Merlin did not point out that he wanted to do the same for her.  Deflection would get them nowhere, and besides, he had made a promise.  “I’ve been risking my heart being broken by Arthur since the day I chose to serve him while knowing I was hiding my magic from him.  He hasn’t let me down yet.  I’m choosing to believe that he won’t now.”

And maybe he was being a fool, but wasn’t that what love was all about?

“Then why isn’t he sharing this news with the kingdom?  If he means to court you properly, he should not be keeping you in the shadows.”

“The kingdom has already gone through so much in the last few years.  Magic being legal is still too new, the scars of Morgana’s attack too fresh.  We can’t go adding something new to their plates just yet.  We’ll announce this properly in time, Mother.  For now, let us have the moment to ourselves.”

The smile she graced him with was full of love, but Merlin could see the pity in her eyes as well.  “Well then.  If he can be spared from his duties he is welcome to come to the wedding next spring as well.  Of course I’ll understand if he can’t.  A king is a busy man.”

“Of course he’ll want to come.  He loves you.  Just like I do.”

And slowly, Merlin allowed himself to believe that maybe Arthur’s newfound shows of affections might mean that he loved Merlin too.  That giving him the afternoon off from his duties wasn’t just some ploy to trick him into agreeing to something nasty later, but instead was a means to allow the two of them to spend hours riding through the woods together, just the two of them.  That Arthur sitting up in his tower in the evening wasn’t the king spying on his suspicious new sorcerer, but a man trying to recreate the times they’d once shared in Arthur’s rooms years ago.  Times Merlin himself had admitted, if only to himself, to missing.  It seemed Arthur had missed them, too, and no longer wished to deprive himself of them.

Merlin felt himself opening more and more as the days and weeks and months passed by.  Arthur took his waning reluctance and ran with it, showering him with affection in a way Merlin hadn’t previously thought him capable of.  It was like a drug, and Merlin was becoming addicted to the warmth that filled his heart whenever Arthur took his hand and drew him in for a kiss.

He clung back just as tightly, and let his heart give in.

One year later

The ground was just starting to thaw as they made their way to Ealdor.  Hunith and Alban had chosen to plan their union for just before the planting season began.  While they would marry in Hunith’s village, she would be joining him back on his own farm.  Arthur had tried to reassure Merlin that this at least meant she would now become a citizen of Camelot and officially under his protection, but Merlin had simply grunted and burrowed deeper into his gloom.

A year had still not been enough to temper Merlin’s misery over his mother’s new relationship.  Arthur had hoped that given time he would come around to the idea, but even as they packed to leave he had been prone to fits of pique, refusing to go from one moment to the next.  Luckily Arthur knew he would never seriously turn his back on his mother’s wedding, but he was fully prepared to lash the vexing man to his horse if he had to and drag him across the border.

They travelled alone for this venture.  While Camelot and Essetir were not currently at war, nor was Arthur’s visit a hostile one, it was still best to keep his presence as quiet as possible.  They had planned to stick to travelling through the woods and would not stop at any towns or inns to stay the night, and Arthur dressed as simply as he could.  They might look like a pair of well off merchants, but only someone who was familiar with them would know the two were actually the king of Camelot and his court sorcerer.  Arthur had no fears of anything happening once they reached the village.  Ealdor would always keep his secrets.

Hunith’s greeting was as warm as ever.  She swept them both up in hugs before shooing her son out to tend to the horses.  Arthur tried to follow, but she held him back, nudging him onto a bench at the table and setting a bowl of… something in front of him.

Arthur put on his best political smile even while his stomach twisted a bit inside him.  He’d experienced Hunith’s cooking in the past, and while he truly did try his best to be grateful knowing she was giving from meagre stores, that didn’t make the food any more palatable.  He was just glad that Merlin seemed to have inherited his own cooking skills from someone else.  Their past journeys would have been a lot more miserable if his servant had been unable to produce a decent stew.

“I hope you boys didn’t run into too much trouble on the road.  We had an early spring rain here last week, and I feared it would delay you.  I couldn’t bear it if Merlin wasn’t here for this.”

“He wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Arthur assured her.  “He would have simply stopped the rain himself if he had to.”

“Only someone who didn’t have a clue about magic would call changing the weather ‘simple,’” scoffed Merlin as he entered the house.

“Says the man who can call down lightning. ”

“The potential for lightning is already there, I’m just helping it along.  You want me to send rain back up into the clouds.”

“I’m not saying it wouldn’t be helpful on training days.  It would also be nice if you could take care of the muck out on the field.  Mud is such a pain to clean out of armour.”

“As if you would know.”  But Merlin belied his acerbic words with a kiss on the cheek.  He then glanced up and blushed, as if he’d forgotten his mother was there.

Hunith just smiled at the two of them fondly.  “I’m so happy you’re home, my darling boy.  And you too, sire.”

Even with the honourific acknowledging their differences in station, Arthur felt his heart swell at the implication that Hunith’s home was his home too.

“Tomorrow we’ll be having a feast in the village square,” Hunith explained as she dished a portion for Merlin, who unlike Arthur tucked in greedily.  “Tradition dictates that the new couple not do any of their own cooking, that their fellows may send them off in prosperity.”

Merlin had spent the past year explaining in bits and pieces the wedding traditions of the peasantry.  It was so different than the pageantry Arthur was used to.  While nobility had grand ceremonies and balls and the blessing of the king, for Hunith and Alban it was enough that they were simply agreeing to call each other husband and wife.  If they had so chosen, they could have skipped the public aspect altogether and just had Hunith move in.  But Ealdor was a friendly village that loved to celebrate with their neighbours whenever they could.  For all his reluctance to join in, even Merlin had commissioned Gwen to make his mother a new dress for the occasion, one nice enough to feel special but that she would feel comfortable wearing day to day as well.

He could feel much more joy and anticipation radiating off Hunith than he himself had felt the eve before his own failed wedding to Princess Elena.  Hunith wanted this.  Arthur wondered what it had been like for her, alone with a child, an illegally magical child, for all those years.  And then when Merlin had left, alone entirely.  She spoke of friends, and until his passing Merlin had said his own friend William watched out for her, but it couldn’t be the same as having someone beside you who could share your troubles and triumphs.  Who wanted to do so, and who trusted they could count on you for the same.

Arthur chuckled to himself as he realised he was recounting exactly the arguments Guinevere had made for him finding someone.  Of course, as he’d told her then, he’d had Merlin.  But now he found himself sharing even more than he would ever have dreamed to share with anyone.  Not even Guinevere had heard some of the secrets that he whispered into Merlin’s ear when they were alone in the forest, relaxing on a blanket surrounded by the remnants of their picnic.  Likewise he knew that Merlin ranted his feelings about his mother’s upcoming marriage because he trusted Arthur to listen and sympathise.

While Hunith may not have needed to do any cooking, there was still plenty to do to prepare for the next day.  Arthur was enlisted to assist the village boys in erecting an arch for the couple to stand beneath, while Merlin was dragged off by a group of young girls to hunt for flowers.  Arthur had barely contained his glee at the sight, holding back his laughter only for the sake of the children.  The look in Merlin’s eyes, however, promised he would pay for even his hidden thoughts later.

By the time night fell, he was exhausted from his manual labour combined with nearly two days in the saddle.  While he was used to swinging an axe in combat, those swings utilised different muscles than he’d used for chopping wood.  Merlin took no pity on him until Arthur collapsed under his blanket on the ground for the night with a groan.  Then he smoothed a hand over his cheek and let his eyes flash gold, allowing warmth to ease the ache of Arthur’s body and ease him towards sleep.

But Merlin did not then settle down beside him, and the lack of non-magical warmth kept Arthur from truly drifting off.  He lay there, half dozing, until the sound of voices caught his attention from outside.

Arthur knew he probably shouldn’t, but he felt himself drawn to the window regardless.  Merlin and Hunith sat together on the bench beneath the open window.  Hunith had pulled a shawl around her shoulders against the chill of the cool spring night.  Neither paid any attention to the hints of movement inside the house.

“We’ve come a long way, my darling boy.  I never would have dreamed my son would be court sorcerer of Camelot.  And a lord, no less!”

“You know being a lord means I have my own land now.  There’s a house there and everything.  You could move in there; let me take care of you.”

“You’ve been taking care of me for too long, Merlin.  Even when you were a child, you were always trying to protect me, never wanting to let me see how much you hurt.  But I did see it, darling.  And I see it now.  Something is bothering you.”

“It’s nothing, Mother-”

“That didn’t fool me when you were a boy, and it’s not fooling me now.  Did something happen between you and Arthur?  You seemed so happy when you arrived.”

“No, no, Arthur and I are fine.  More than fine.  It’s just… I wanted to talk to you.  About Balinor.”

Arthur heard the sharp intake of breath.  There was silence, and he imagined Hunith must have been gathering herself from the shock of the subject.  When she finally answered, her voice was a whisper, barely audible from Arthur’s place at the window.  “Where did you hear that name?”

“Gaius told me- don’t be angry with him.  He had to do it.  He knew I needed to know before Arthur and I went to find him, to get him to calm the last dragon.”

“And did you?”  Hunith asked in a small voice.  “Find him?”

“We did.  I’m sorry, Mother, I should have told you.  I should have told you ages ago.  When we found him… he died.  He was killed saving my life.”

“Oh.  I… oh.”

“I wanted to bring him back to you.  I wanted you to have the chance to be together.  He still loved you, I could tell.  If I’d just been faster, I could have…”

“Don’t put that on yourself, Merlin.  I’m sure you did all you could.  And there’s no way Balinor would have preferred to go than to save his son.  He was so much like you.  Always wanting to give of himself to protect others.”

“Were you angry with him?  When he left?”

“I was furious.  I told myself I hated him for so long, even though I knew that the truth was if I’d known where he was I would have gone to him and insisted on staying no matter where he had to go.  I never stopped loving your father, Merlin.  I still do.  I probably always will.”

“Does Alban know that?”  Arthur could hear the bitterness Merlin couldn’t quite hide in his tone.  Hunith clearly heard it too.

“He does.  We talked about Balinor, just as we talked about his first wife.  He still loves her too, for all she’s been gone ten years now.  He knows that love like that doesn’t just go away, no matter how much time has passed.  But that doesn’t mean we can’t have room in our hearts for another.”

Arthur thought back to the words he’d said to Merlin ages ago.  Just because we fall in love with someone else doesn’t mean the love we had for another wasn’t real .  He’d loved Guinevere, even as he’d known he loved Merlin.  His love for both had been true and bright, and neither diminished the other. 

“Does he make you happy, Mother?”

“Very much.  This house has been so empty since you left, Merlin.  I think it’s time I allow myself a home again.  Alban is my new home.”

Merlin sighed softly, then there was a rustle of cloth as he turned and leaned in to hug her tightly.  “I’m glad.  You deserve to be happy, Mother.”

You deserve to be happy, too, Merlin .  Arthur vowed to make sure that he was, every day going forward.

The morning of the ceremony dawned clear and bright.  Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.  While they could have simply postponed until another day if the rain had decided to pour down -or yes, as Arthur had so flippantly suggested Merlin probably could have held the rain off them for the moment- he knew waiting even another day or two longer would have disappointed his mother.  And if there was one thing he had spent his entire life trying to avoid, it was disappointing his mother.

After their talk last night, he could not have said he was now thrilled about her upcoming union, but his heart was more at peace with it.  There was nothing he wanted more than for the people he loved to be happy, and if Alban truly did do that, he could begrudge her that chance entirely.  He still could not help but wish that today was a celebration of the union between both of his parents.  Their story had ended too soon, and in too much tragedy.  It wasn’t fair.

But as Merlin had learned too many times along the way, life wasn’t fair, and never would be.

“Rats!”

Merlin turned from his current place stoking up the fire towards Arthur, whom he had left dozing under the blankets on the floor.  He so rarely got to have a lie-in, and with nothing happening for a few hours at least, Merlin thought he deserved to have one now.  Arthur was currently sitting up, still under the blankets, staring at something cupped in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”  He couldn’t be catching a leak.  That would require water to be falling on the roof.  Unless it was the morning dew?  Or a melting frost?

“ Rats ,” Arthur repeated in disgust.  “They chewed through the cord of my pendant.  I should count myself lucky the vermin didn’t just abscond with the whole thing!”

“I don’t think rats care much for jewellery,” Merlin pointed out, coming over and reaching out a hand.  “Give it here.  I’m sure there’s some scrap of leather or cloth around I can fix it up with in a trice.”

Gingerly Arthur handed it over.  Merlin understood his attachment to the little gem.  He had been given a quill from Astrid a while back.  The thing barely managed to hold on to enough ink for a word or two, but he held on to it regardless, picking it up whenever Gwen dropped the girl off to be watched for a bit while she ran an errand and pretending it was obviously the only one he ever used.

He examined the cord.  The frayed ends definitely indicated something had been chewing on the material.  Merlin had grown up here with all kinds of little creatures running rampant over the floors, rats and mice, birds and squirrels.  The castle had them too, but they were less noticeable thanks to the dozens of cats patrolling the halls.  Merlin’s mother had never been able to abide cats, claiming they made her sneeze, so they had simply tolerated the menagerie.

Merlin found an old rag that seemed to be clean enough and tore a thin strip from it.  It would do for now until they got back to Camelot and could get a bit of leather from the tanner.  He slipped out the old tattered string from the metal loop and began to lace the new one through.  As he did so, he suddenly noticed how oddly warm the gem seemed in his palm.  It wasn’t like Merlin had a huge experience with gemstones, but since he’d become court sorcerer he’d had more access than most.  Many stones had innate magical properties, like scrying crystals, or could bring out the magical properties of other materials.  But there was a difference between an inert gem and those magical ones.  The regular stones were always cold in his grip.  The special ones… they felt like this.

Instinctively he turned away from Arthur, who was now shaking out the garments from his travel bag and inspecting them for any rodent damage.  Cupping the small red gem in his palms, Merlin reached out to it carefully with his magic.  He doubted it was any kind of poison- he may have been blind, but he was sure would have noticed Arthur becoming sick or weak over time, and Arthur certainly would have complained about it- but that didn’t mean whatever charm was present wasn’t hiding something nasty within.  For all he knew, there was some kind of safeguard against just this kind of prying that would blast him back at any moment.  It wouldn’t be the first time he had come across such a thing.

But thankfully no such shocks or jolts attacked him.  Instead he just felt… calm.  As he poured more magic into the pendant, he could find no sense of evil or deception.  Nor he did find himself inclined to look for it.  It was like it was melting his doubts away.

“Merlin, did you fix it yet?”

Merlin turned to look at Arthur and was overcome with the urge to be near him.  He had always wanted to be near him, and he was tired of hiding it.  He wanted to step out into the village, onto the rafters of Camelot, and declare that he loved Arthur Pendragon, and he didn’t care who knew it.

“It’s no different than threading a needle, Merlin.  Honestly, you can be so useless sometimes.”  Merlin’s concentration was broken as Arthur plucked gemstone and string from his hand and deftly looped it back into a necklace form before settling it around his neck once more.  He looked at Merlin curiously.  “Are you okay?  You look pale.  Did you not get enough sleep?”

Oh gods .  He was an idiot.  He was such an idiot.  He had had a feeling that somethig was wrong, how could he have missed something this colossally wrong ?

“Arthur,” he began shakily.  “I need to talk to you-”

“Merlin!”  His mother ran into the cabin, panic plastered across her face.  “Arne dropped the rings somewhere outside and now we can’t find them!  Please, I need your help!”

Merlin glanced back at Arthur, torn between the tragedies of his mother and his lover.  Arthur, however, had no such quandaries, pulling himself away from Merlin and squaring his shoulders as if this was nothing more than another battle to dive into.  “Where did he last see them?”

It took ages to find the rings, even with Merlin using his magic to try to seek out metals in the earth.  There were too many loose nails and chipped tools cluttering his vision.  Then he had to help Matilda set up the food.  Then Arthur had to break up a fight between a pair of boys over who was more likely to make knighthood if they ever got to Camelot.

Then he was being handed his mother’s arm, and no matter what other matters might be calling out to him, he could do nothing in this moment but make sure these next few minutes were the happiest of her life.

Merlin walked his mother up to the archway where Alban waited for her.  The entire village of Ealdor stood around them in the large field they had chosen as the best site for their union.  The only outsider was Arthur, who had taken up position at the front, his eyes plastered not on the smiling couple, but Merlin.

Merlin kissed his mother shakily on the cheek.  Hunith hugged him tightly.  “I love you, my boy.”

“I love you, too, Mother.”

He stepped back to the rest of the crowd as she took her place beside Alban.  Arthur laced their fingers together.  The casual touch, only yesterday so welcome and wanted, burned Merlin’s skin.  But he couldn’t pull away.  The tears that had been threatening since he touched that blasted pendant this morning fell down his cheek.  Arthur brushed them away.  “You did a good job, love.  Your mother has never looked happier.”

Merlin could not deny he was right.  Hunith fairly glowed in her new dress as she stared into the eyes of her betrothed.  Then resentment Merlin had felt toward Alban was slowly melting away as he watched the look in the man’s eyes while the two exchanged their vows.  He had seen that look so many times directed at him in the last year.  He’d thought it was as real as the sparkle now in Alban’s.  He’d thought every smile was as genuine as the one on his mother’s face.  He’d thought one day that it would be him and Arthur standing under that archway, surrounded by friends and family, promising to love and protect each other always.

But it was never to be.  It was all a lie.

Merlin tried to hold himself together until the ceremony was over, but he could not maintain a fake smile while also drying his very real tears.  He just barely choked back a sob that threatened to escape towards the end, ignoring the growing concern on Arthur’s face.

But he could not ignore it forever.  As soon as the crowd headed for the feast set up in the centre of the village, Arthur held him back, tucking them behind a barn where no one would notice them.

“Merlin, tell me what’s wrong.  I thought you and your mother talked it out.  Did you learn something new about Alban?  If your mother is in trouble you know I’ll do whatever I can to fix it.  I’m here for you.”

Merlin finally let his agony break through, a pitiful moan falling from his lips.  This wasn’t fair.  Why couldn’t this spell have made Arthur cruel, or indifferent?  Merlin would have been able to handle an Arthur who had become more of a prat.  But this sweet, caring Arthur… he never wanted to give that up. 

“I’m sorry.”  His choked voice couldn’t rise above a whisper, causing Arthur to need to lean in closer.  His shirt gaped slightly, revealing the gem around his neck.  Merlin reached out to finger the gem.  “You’re still wearing it.”

“I promised Astrid I would.  You know I never take it off.  Merlin-“

“Do you remember the day you got it?”

“Of course, it was the May festival.  Stop trying to distract me.”

“I’m not.  I… I need you to think back to that day.  Do you remember anything else about it?  Or the few days after?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I do.  I remember the next day.  You gave me your cheese and asked me what I wanted.”

“You’re upset I gave you cheese ?”

“I thought you had gone crazy.  I thought you must want something terrible from me and were trying to butter me up.  And don’t tell me you wouldn’t do that, because the Arthur I knew absolutely would."

The Arthur he knew… he hadn’t seemed so far gone before, but now Merlin couldn’t help but analyse every change he’d noticed over the past year.  Every smile, every touch, every kiss…

“Arthur… why did you kiss me that day?  That first time?”

“Because I wanted to.  I love you.”

“Did you want to kiss me before that?  Before the May festival?  It’s been over a decade, Arthur.  Why now?  What changed?”

“I don’t- I don’t know.  I don’t- what’s going on, Merlin?”

Merlin closed his hand around the necklace.  Now that he was in full contact, he could once again feel the thrum of magic being emitted from it.  It wasn’t strong.  The hedgewitch who made it was no Emrys.  It was no wonder he hadn’t sensed it before now.  “I need you to take this off.”

“Will you stop thinking about the necklace and just tell me- ”

“There’s a spell on the gemstone, Arthur.  It’s what’s been making you act this way, making you feel this way.  I’m sorry, I should have figured it out before now.  If I’d just stopped to question things more, you never would have had to go through this for so long.  I’m supposed to protect you and I failed.”

Some court sorcerer he was.  He’d been so swept up in himself, first in being so suspicious that clearly Arthur’s behaviour was an attack on him, and then being obsessed with how good Arthur was making him feel.  He’d never taken a single moment to stop and think about if something was affecting Arthur.  If only he had, he could have saved them from all of this.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course, but-“

“Then let me do this.”

Slowly Merlin lifted the necklace over Arthur’s head.  As he did so he tried not to think about the fact that this was the last time he would ever be able to touch Arthur again.  His world felt like it was closing back in again, and all he wanted was to retreat to his tower and never come out again.

He was sure he could not bear to, but he forced himself to watch Arthur’s face as the charm was removed.  For a moment, nothing changed.  Arthur was still exuding the same frustrated concern as before.  His hand still rested on Merlin’s shoulder.  But then… the hand dropped.

Merlin looked away.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay.  This curse has been messing with your head for the past year.  It will take some time to wear off.  You didn’t notice anything this morning either, did you.”

Arthur was silent.  Then he took a step back.  The space between them shaped itself into a knife that burrowed itself into Merlin’s heart.  “Merlin, I don’t understand… because I still love you.”

“That’s the curse talking.  You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Better?  How would that be better?”  Arthur’s confusion was swiftly turning to anger, and Merlin knew it was simply the natural reaction to his embarrassment for not knowing he’d been manipulated for so long.  He had to save his king once last time.

“I’m going to stay and help my mother move to her new home.  You should head back to Camelot.”

“Merlin-“

“I know there are tasks that need to be done.  Talk to Gaius, he can help you in the meantime.”

“ Merlin- “

“I’ll be back in a few weeks for anything he can’t handle.  I’m sure my mother won’t want me hanging around forever.”

Arthur closed the distance between them again and grabbed his arm.  “ Merlin .  Were you also under a spell?”

He shook his head.

“Then tell me: do you still love me?”

Merlin knew the best thing would be to lie, to let Arthur believe that once the enchantment had faded away things could all just go back to normal.  But he couldn’t.  “Always,” he whispered.  “I will always love you, Arthur.  But I can’t love this.  Not if it isn’t real.”

He pulled his arm away, half wishing he could rip it from his body just to rid himself of the lingering warmth.  Merlin forced himself to turn, then forced one foot in front of the other, while behind him the walls between him and Arthur began to stack themselves higher once more, each stone falling into place with a permanent thud.

Camelot was empty.

Yes, the castle was bustling.  People did their business in the town square.  New citizens flooded in from the countryside to seek their fortunes within the city wall.  But Arthur saw none of them.  His entire world view had changed in an instant.

The first thing Arthur did when he got back to the city was seek out Lancelot and Guinevere’s daughter.  Gwen often brought her along as she went about her chores in the castle, giving her small tasks to occupy herself with like folding clothing or setting out fresh candles.  It wasn’t hard to track them down.  A few well placed questions to the other servants soon had him coming across them on their way to the kitchen.  It didn’t take much to convince Gwen to release her daughter to him.

He quickly pulled the girl into a secluded corner.  “Astrid, I need to know where you got the necklace from.  Do you know the name of the shop?  Or remember where it is in the market?”

“Do you not like it anymore, Uncle Arthur?”

Arthur fought to swallow down his frustration. This wasn’t Astrid’s fault.  There was no way she could have known the destruction her gift had wrought on Arthur’s life.  To her it had likely just been a pretty bauble.  “No, that’s not it at all.  I- The string broke from me wearing it so much.  I need to get it fixed.”

“Oh!  Okay!”

Astrid grabbed his hand and began to drag him through the castle and into the town.  Part of Arthur wished she would just tell him where to go, so that he might use his wider stride to get there faster, but again he had to muster his deepest reserves of patience and allow her to weave him through the midday crowd, slowing even more each time she spotted a friend or acquaintance to say hi to.

She finally stopped in front of a small shop.  The roof was lined with wooden wind chimes clacking in the light breeze.  “Here she is!”

Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder as she reached for the doorknob.  “You’re staying out here.  Run along back to your mother.”  If things turned ugly, he didn’t want to have to worry about her safety.  Merlin would have scolded him for going in himself without any backup, but Merlin wasn’t here right now.  And it’s all this woman’s fault.   He intended to make her pay.

The shop was empty except for the old woman behind the counter.  She was bent over her sewing, clumsily dipping a needle in and out of the fabric with hands that shook from the inflammation that came with age.  It was lucky the task seemed to be the practical one of mending a tear in trousers.  Fine embroidery would clearly have been beyond her skills.  But it wasn’t her threadwork that Arthur was here for now, and he had seen time and again that age and infirmity were no barrier to works of evil.

When at last she looked up, the woman startled, tossing the trousers aside and curtseying as best she could on her knobbly knees.  “Ah, your majesty!  How can I be of service to you today?  I would have thought any of your magical needs could be met by our dear court sorcerer?”

Arthur did his best not to flinch at the mention of Merlin.  “I’ve come to inquire about one of your goods, mistress…?”

“Peliwin, sire.  Madame Peliwin Coltsfoot.  And of course I will be happy to answer any questions the crown may have, sire.”

“Not the crown.  Me.”  Arthur pulled the necklace from his pocket.  He’d wrapped it in cloth, not wanting to risk touching it with his bare skin.  He still wasn’t sure he believed Merlin’s claims, but he trusted that if Merlin was afraid of the thing, then so was he.  “Tell me about this.”

She gingerly took the small bundle, freeing it of its folds before holding it up between them so the gem sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the windows.  She smiled fondly at the infernal thing.  “Oh this.  This is some of my finest work.  How did it come into your possession?”

“Never mind that.  My court sorcerer tells me that it has some kind of love spell on it.  Love spells are banned in Camelot.”

“As well they should be.”  The old woman’s smile turned quickly to a harsh frown.  “There is no such thing as a true love spell.  Lust, obsession, even blind devotion, one can manufacture all these.  But not even the most skilled magician can create love.  You would be a fool to try.”

“Then which of those curses are imbued in this?”

“None, sire.  I swear it.  The spell placed on this necklace is nothing more than a small charm to lower one’s inhibitions.  It does not create feelings.  It simply allows one to access them more freely without the fears that would normally stop them from expressing them.  If someone wished to pursue a knighthood, but feared to fail, this would help them to overcome that.  And if one wished to tell another they cared for them, but feared rejection, it would encourage them to take the leap.  Fear is not useless, sire, but there are times it holds us back from the things we want.  My charms help provide that gentle nudge.  The stronger the fear, the longer the effects take to kick in, but eventually the desire will always win.”

“You swear on your life it does not fabricate feelings?”

Arthur finally did as Merlin had wanted him to do in Ealdor.  He thought back to how he’d felt in those first days of wearing the necklace.  The first night, he didn’t think anything was different.  He’d still had doubts then, and plenty of denial.  But the next morning, when Merlin had come in for breakfast… he’d felt… free.  Even when he did feel fear, his body had not allowed him to act on it, but forced him to sit in the moment and press forward, one bold move at a time.  He could show Merlin kindness without repercussions.  He could kiss him because he wanted to and not because the good of the kingdom rested on the decisions that he made.

He could love him, not because he feared being alone, but because Merlin was someone who deserved to be loved, and Arthur deserved to be loved back.

“I swear on the lives of myself and my children.  Even my children’s children if it comes to that.  The court sorcerer himself could tear this place to the ground, but he will never find a single sign of a love spell.  It’s just not possible.”  She held out the hand that held the gemstone, then paused, looking at him consideringly, and pulled it back.  “I do not wish to rob you of your purchase, sire, but I think I’m right in saying you do not need it anymore, hmm?”

He shook his head, then glanced at the door, where a small head quickly ducked itself out of view.  “I do not.  But if you would not mind…”

When he stepped back outside, he wore the necklace once more, but this time it had been stripped of all spells.  Astrid stared up at him, clearly about to burst from curiosity.  He didn’t blame her for ignoring his order to go back to the castle.  She was too much like her mother, full of fiery stubbornness and ideas beyond his royal whims.  Including…

“Astrid,” he asked carefully, “did you know this necklace was enchanted?  I’m not angry with you, I just need to know.”

The girl swallowed heavily, eyes going wide.  “Er… yes?”

Arthur sighed, closing his eyes so she might not see the thoughts going through his head.  All this pain, all this heartache… over the gift of a child.  “Why did you give it to me?”

“Because mama said you were lonely, and I thought… I just wanted you to be happy, Uncle Arthur.  Doesn’t Uncle Merlin make you happy?”

He opened his eyes and knelt down beside her.  Astrid’s lip trembled, clearly still frightened of getting in trouble despite his assurances.  Arthur kissed the top of her head then pulled her in for a hug.  “He does, magpie.  He really does.”

It was three weeks before Merlin returned to Camelot.  Arthur had begun to fear he never would.  It had taken all his strength not to send a battalion of knights to Alban’s village and drag the man back.  Or even better, to hop onto the first horse he could get saddled and hunt him down himself.

But he held off.  Merlin had insisted they take this time apart.  After the pain Arthur had inadvertently caused him, he supposed the least he could do was allow him that.  And Merlin had promised he would come back.  Arthur clung to that promise.  No matter what happened, he could not believe Merlin would ever abandon him.  Not without saying goodbye.

Arthur knew now, he was never letting Merlin say goodbye.

So he spent his time watching the road from the ramparts whenever he could, just waiting for the tell tale signs of dust being tossed up by a single rider.  As the days passed and no such rider appeared, his heart began to sink more and more.  He threw himself into his duties to distract himself, ignoring the worried looks on the faces of Gwen and his knights.  Arthur had told none of them what had occurred in Ealdor.  His knights knew nothing of the relationship between him and Merlin, and Guinevere would have felt it necessary to punish her daughter for her part in things.  Arthur didn’t want that.  He knew Astrid was upset enough already, having noticed Merlin’s absence for herself and taking the blame despite Arthur’s attempts to reassure her.

He wasn’t working or on the wall when the moment finally came.  Arthur had taken to brooding in Merlin’s rooms when dusk fell, staring around at all the books and potions as if the magic spell might exist among one of them to bring Merlin back to him.  Gaius had sadly assured him it didn’t, but it didn’t stop Arthur from dreaming.

Merlin found him there, flipping numbly through one of the older books of potion recipes.  “Oh, I would never use one of those if you had pox.  Too apt to leave scars.”

Arthur whirled on him, nearly throwing the book across the room.  “You- you came back.”

“I told you I would.”  But Merlin didn’t look happy about his return.  Arthur had a feeling he had come here hoping that his arrival would go unnoticed for as long as possible.

“I believed you.  Because you wouldn’t lie to me, Merlin.  Just as I hope you know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He stood to fully face the other man, but stopped when he saw Merlin’s flinch.  His eyes were locked on the gemstone still hanging around Arthur’s neck.  Arthur pulled it off and held out his hand.

“Take it.  Inspect it.  I’ve been reassured by three separate people no more magic lies within.”

Merlin did not touch the pendant.  Instead he reached out a hand, reciting a series of words Arthur could not begin to understand.  They didn’t sound anything like the charms the druids he’d asked had used to inspect the piece had used, but Arthur trusted that if anyone knew what they were doing, it was Merlin.  At least when it came to magic.  As for the rest of it, well, that was what he needed Arthur for.

“Well?”

Merlin slowly lowered his hand, eyes fading back to blue.  “Nothing.  It’s just a stone now.”

“Then you know that I say this with a clear, unaltered mind, fully aware of the words that are coming out of my mouth and not at all compelled to say them by anything other than myself.  I, Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot, do indeed love you just as much as I did a year ago today.  I don’t need magic for that to be true, and there is no spell, charm, or gem that could ever change how I feel about you.”

Arthur stepped forward again, and Merlin flinched again, but this time Arthur persisted, taking trembling hands in his own.  “I’m not afraid anymore, Merlin.  I’m not afraid of how I feel, because saying how I feel gives me you.  But we need to talk about your fear now.”

“M-my fear?”

He thumbed aside the tear that trailed down Merlin’s cheek.  “The fear you still have about your magic. About me seeing it.  When I say I love you, Merlin, I mean all parts of you.  The mundane and the magical.  The sorcerer and the idiot.  I hate that you still feel the need to hide from me.  I hate that you still don’t feel safe here.  I will not rest until we figure this out.  Together.”

Merlin fell forward into Arthur’s arms, holding him tight and crying softly into Arthur’s nightshirt.  Arthur let him, his own tears sneaking their way out as well.  “I want to start a school,” Merlin blurted out.  “A school for sorcery.”

“We can do that.”

“I want to use my land.  I’m never going to live there, it might as well be used for something.”

Arthur stroked a hand up and down his back.  “Whatever you want, my love.  I can’t say I’d be eager for you to move there anyway.  I need you here, at my side.”

“I’ll always be at your side, Arthur.  Always.  I promise."