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The Sigil

Chapter 2: Epilogue

Summary:

Arthur knows that not everyone took the news of Merlin being named regent well, but Merlin won’t tell him what happened.

Notes:

For those of you wondering how Arthur handled Agravaine. Enjoy!

Chapter Text

Arthur woke early the next morning, not by choice or because Merlin had decided to exact his revenge for the sigil with an early morning wake up call. Arthur woke early to finish reading the notes from all the meetings that he had missed during his week away. Which is why Merlin found him red faced glaring at a piece of parchment instead of drooling on a pillow when he arrived with his breakfast.

“Did this really happen?” Arthur asked, shaking the parchment at Merlin as though Merlin had actually written them and knew what it said.

Merlin set down the breakfast tray on the table and crossed the room to read over Arthur’s shoulder. Geoffrey of Monmouth had, in great detail, chronicled the entire ordeal that had started with Merlin accidentally revealing he’d been made regent and ending with the meeting being adjourned. Geoffrey had left no detail out including when Agravaine had grabbed Merlin and had to be pulled off him by Leon and Elyan. 

“Geoffrey made it seem far worse than it was.”

Arthur lectured Merlin for the rest of the morning about how he should have written the notes for Arthur and then these misunderstandings and exaggerations wouldn’t happen. 

*

Arthur couldn’t shake the feeling that Merlin was downplaying what had happened while he’d been away.

The afternoon council meeting felt unusually tense, but Arthur couldn’t put a finger on any one source. While Agravaine would usually sit to Arthur’s left he instead chose a seat across the round table. Never before had Leon or Elyan willingly sat beside Agravaine but today they flanked him. Grain reports and taxes hadn’t changed in his absence but Merlin now had a seat at the round table. Merlin sat to Arthur’s right and to Merlin’s right sat Geoffrey, quill in hand dutifully recording every word of the meeting until Arthur finally concluded it.

“Geoffrey,” Arthur called as the rest of the advisors filed out, Agravaine being the first of them out the door.

Geoffrey paused in the doorway, but before Arthur could ask him about what happened, Merlin reminded him that he would be late for training and hurried him to the armory. Arthur’s suspicions only grew when Merlin stayed through the entire training, when usually he would have gone to gather herbs for Gaius or visit Gwen. He knew Merlin was hiding something because every time Arthur tried to spar with Leon or Elyan, Merlin interrupted with some made up problem or a water skin because ‘Arthur looked thirsty’ . Merlin went so far as to stay beside Arthur the entire day, which no one but Arthur found suspicious because wherever Arthur was Merlin wasn’t too far behind.

*

“Are you going to tell me what happened, Merlin?” Arthur asked as they returned to his chambers after training that evening.

“Nothing happened,” Merlin insisted, “except of course you holding out on me about the sigil.”

“Kind of like how you’re holding out on me now?”

Merlin laughed as he took Arthur’s cloak and hung it beside the cabinet. Arthur sat at his desk, picked up a quill and began to edit a speech he’d need to give the following week.

“I would never, your majesty.”

Arthur shook his head and then ordered Merlin to get enough dinner to feed them both of them. Merlin smiled to himself as he walked to the kitchen, happy to have Arthur back. Merlin rubbed his thumb over the sigil in his pocket. 

*

Arthur knew he only had a narrow window to escape his chambers before Merlin returned with their dinner. He felt childish having to escape from his own servant like Merlin were his nanny or governess. It would be worth it though, because Merlin was hiding something from him and he wouldn’t let that go. 

Leon and Elyan were at the tavern eating dinner with Gwaine, who had already drank three tankards of mead and started gambling with a few older men. Arthur bought four tankards of mead before he sat down with Leon and Elyan. He pushed a drink toward each man. 

“I heard there was some commotion while I was away,” Arthur began.

Leon and Elyan looked between each other, sharing a knowing look. Merlin had warned them upon pain of torturous embarrassment to keep silent about the bruises Agravaine had left upon his neck. 

“Well Merlin being named regent was a bit of a surprise, m’lord,” Elyan agreed.

“The fire was a bit of commotion as well,” Leon told him.

Arthur nodded in agreement. He took a long drink from his mead. 

“Not everyone took the news well, did they?” Arthur asked.

“It was a surprise,” Leon repeated Elyan’s words.

“And Agravaine?” 

Leon and Elyan exchanged a look but said nothing, vowing silently to withstand any torture that Arthur could bestow upon them. Gwaine, who had only half been listening to the conversation, his attention held by the dice game, let out a drunken chuckle.

“I heard Agravaine went absolutely crazy,” Gwaine said as he rolled three dice, then asked, “Are you going to finish that?”

Arthur pushed the mead across the table to Gwaine. Gwaine drank the mead down in one gulp, unaware of Leon and Elyan glaring daggers at him.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Everyone knows, Princess. I heard as soon as we returned from Mercia that Agravaine had grabbed Merlin, accused him of stealing from you and those two-“ 

Gwaine gestured with his empty mug at Leon and Elyan.

“-had to pull him away. I’m surprised you didn’t put Agravaine in the dungeons. I spent a day in the stocks for accidentally tripping Merlin, and he didn’t even have a bruise.”

“You were drunk at training, Gwaine,” Elyan reminded him.

“Yes, but if I hadn’t tripped Merlin, Princess wouldn’t have cared,” Gwaine insisted.

But Arthur wasn’t paying attention any longer because Merlin stood in the doorway of the Rising Sun, glaring.

Without a word, Arthur stood from the table and followed Merlin out of the tavern. He could hear Gwaine starting a betting pool of how long the two would be fighting as the door closed behind him.

“Merlin-“

Merlin shook his head and began walking back to the castle. There were few times that Arthur noticed that Merlin stood an inch or two taller than him. The fact that he had to nearly jog to keep up with Merlin’s long, quick strides made Arthur keenly aware of their height difference and Merlin’s simmering anger.

“Merlin!” Arthur nearly shouted as they passed by a set of confused and concerned guards at the castle gates.

Merlin paused for only a moment so that he could turn to fully face Arthur. He narrowed his eyes and raised one eyebrow in challenge. Arthur knew then, by the hurt in his eyes and the set of his clenched jaw, that Merlin was just barely keeping himself in check, lest he yell at the King in front of an audience who would spread their gossip throughout Camelot. Moments like these reminded Arthur why he kept Merlin so close, even when he had to go behind his back to find the truth or chase behind him.

Arthur sighed, defeated and asked, “Could you at least slow down?”

Merlin did. He even opened the door to Arthur’s chambers and held it open for Arthur. 

Then he slammed it shut.

“You couldn’t just leave it alone?!”

“Why should I have to?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t the King do whatever he pleases?”

“And, yet you cannot give me a reason-“

“Because- because it isn’t like it even matters!” Merlin shouted, exasperated.

Roughly he pulled the lids off of Arthur’s dinner and slammed them onto the table. He continued to finish setting the table by pouring wine and slamming the pitcher down when he was done. 

Arthur glared at the plate of chicken and his favorite pie. He knew how Merlin bribed and distracted him and it usually took form in his favorite sweets or a well-planned hunting trip.

“I’m not hungry,” Arthur insisted.

“Fine.”

Merlin began stacking the still full plates onto trays, clearing the table. Arthur grabbed the plate from his hand and set it out of his reach.

“Talk to me,” Arthur demanded, drawing out each word slowly.

Merlin shook his head, moved around Arthur and continued clearing the table.

“What do you mean that it doesn’t matter, Merlin?”

“Nothing.”

Arthur groaned. He rubbed his face, wiping a hand across his furrowed brow before the hand went into his hair carding through the front of it. Merlin put the last of the dinner plates onto a tray. He picked it up and before he could move to the door, Arthur took the tray. He set it back on the table.

“You are not dismissed.”

Merlin’s gaze could have set Arthur on fire. Merlin deliberately leaned into Arthur as he picked the tray up again. 

“Why should I have to be?” Merlin seethed and made for the door.  

He had the door open before Arthur could stop him. If Arthur hadn’t known better he would have suspected magic because Merlin had never shown such coordination in his life. Arthur let Merlin walk out the door.

*

Merlin gave the trays to a confused kitchen maid. Cook asked if the food hadn’t been to the King’s liking but Merlin assured her that it hadn’t been the food at all. He knew he’d spend the next week avoiding pointed looks and whispers behind his back. 

As he made his way back to the physician’s quarters he could feel it already. People were still talking about the news of him being made regent. News of him and Arthur fighting would spread like wildfire. He didn’t understand why anyone cared.

Gaius had spent the entire day in the lower town and still hadn’t returned. One less person to ask why Merlin looked upset or why he’d returned so early. 

Merlin closed the door to his room harder than he’d meant to but he couldn’t calm himself. Arthur had a way of getting underneath his skin. 

Merlin removed his neckerchief. He softly rubbed the bruises that Agravaine had made across his neck. With a tired sigh, he left his room to get a healing salve from Gaius stores. 

He heard Arthur gasp before he saw him. Before Merlin could assure Arthur that he was alright or yell at him for invading his privacy, Arthur was close enough to run his fingers over the purple and yellow marks. 

“Agravaine did this?” Arthur breathed softly. 

Merlin nodded, turning his head when Arthur softly turned it to get a better look. Arthur stroked Merlin’s jaw absentmindedly, unaware of how close he stood to him or how Merlin held his breath so afraid that anything he did would break whatever held Arthur so transfixed and so close. 

“Gaius must have something to put on these,” Arthur insisted.

Merlin pointed to a shelf. He tried not to sigh in disappointment when Arthur moved away to get the jar. Arthur returned moments later, invading Merlin’s personal space without asking. Merlin reached for the jar, but Arthur moved his hand away. 

“Why would you think this wouldn’t matter?” Arthur wondered, as he gently rubbed the salve into Merlin’s neck.

Merlin closed his eyes, overwhelmed by Arthur’s tenderness.

“He’s your uncle,” Merlin mumbled. 

Arthur sighed. Merlin’s cheeks flushed. He stepped away from Arthur, taking the jar from Arthur as he did. Merlin turned his back to Arthur, taking longer than necessary to find where the jar belonged on the shelf. He didn’t fool Arthur who knew that Merlin knew the shelves like the back of his hand.

“Do you know why I wanted to know what happened?”

Merlin turned to face Arthur. Arthur stepped toward Merlin, unable to stop himself. He let his still greasy fingers trace Merlin’s jaw and down the back of his neck.

“It’s my fault, Merlin. I should have told the council what I had done. I should have told you what my mother’s sigil meant—what you meant. Don’t ever think that you don’t matter to me.”

*

All of Camelot knew that Merlin had been made regent before Arthur officially announced it the following week. The feast had been lavish. Merlin had a permanent place at Arthur’s right side, though he was the first regent in Camelot’s history to remain the King’s manservant. 

Arthur had the feeling Merlin would be the first in history to do a lot of things.

Regrettably, Agravaine had not been in attendance at the feast. The day after Arthur had found out what had happened, he ordered Agravaine to accompany a patrol to the furthest border of Camelot which was known to be swampy and nearly impossible to traverse for most of the year, not to mention the unwelcoming wildlife. 

Arthur hadn’t marked the start of his Uncle’s journey with a farewell feast. The servants had been much too busy with the preparations for Merlin’s upcoming celebration. Instead, Merlin and Arthur had watched his departure from the balcony above the courtyard, waving as Agravaine seethed.