Archive of Our Own ^beta

Most of the time, Merlin quite liked his job.

Perhaps liked was too strong a term some days. Days when Prince Cabbagehead Pendragon (commonly known as Arthur, but Merlin felt Cabbagehead suited him better and often told him as much) was in one of his annoying moods and had Merlin running around doing everything for him.

But there were other days when Arthur was fun to be around, didn’t give Merlin too much work, and generally wasn’t too bad to work for at all.

This was not one of those days. Arthur was in a mood, finding fault with everything (particularly Merlin) and coming up with endless tasks that Merlin had either not done or failed to do properly.

“I could resign, you know?” Merlin grumbled when Arthur sent his dinner back for a third time. “The kitchen staff want to go home. They’re not happy with you.”

Actually they weren’t happy with Merlin, who was the one bringing the dinner back down to them each time because it was too hot, too cold and now apparently too fishy. How honey-glazed salmon could be anything other than fishy was a mystery to Merlin, and he wasn’t looking forward to the faces in the kitchen when it came back. Also he was quite hungry and the salmon smelled wonderful.

So he ate it himself. There was no point in wasting it. Better to tell the kitchen staff that Arthur was hungry than to send back a third meal.

The fourth meal was a pizza. Not something that was on the palace’s official menu, but what King Uther didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. And Arthur could never resist them.

“Cook says she’s going home,” Merlin announced as he kicked open the door to Arthur’s rooms. “So if you don’t like this you’re just going to have to go hungry.”

Arthur scowled back at him from the posh sofa where he was sprawled. Merlin noted the open bag of crisps on the table, and the can of beer as he set the pizza down.

“Not the most healthy of meals,” Merlin commented. “Your father…”

“My father,” Arthur growled, sitting up and grabbing a slice of the pizza, “can go and eat all the healthy salads that he wants. Mmm… why didn’t you just bring this in the first place, Mer-lin?”

Merlin rolled his eyes, safe because Arthur’s full concentration was on that pizza. “Because you’d have sent it back and you know you would. That salmon was really good, by the way. Nicer than the pizza. Better for you as well.”

Arthur regarded the pizza for a moment, pausing in mid-chew. “There’s a piece missing.”

“Yes. Had to taste test.”

He could see Arthur thinking about whether to push the pizza aside and make a fuss about being presented with sampled goods. But he must have been hungry because he continued eating and merely grumbled at Merlin. “You’re the worst manservant I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“So you keep telling me. And yet, I’ve lasted longer in the job than anyone else. Ever.”

It was only a year and eight months, but that beat the previous record by seven weeks already. Merlin knew that there was a sweepstake going on amongst the palace staff as to how long it would be before he either left or was sacked.

“Untrue.”

“The nanny when you were too young to speak doesn’t count. And anyway, another six months and I’ll have beaten her too.” Merlin sat himself down in the chair opposite Arthur and put his feet up on the table, ignoring the indignant look that earned him.

“You’re making quite an assumption if you think I’m putting up with you for six more months.”

“Whatever you say, your princeliness,” Merlin reached over and helped himself to a slice of the pizza, ignoring the outraged expression on Arthur’s face as he did so. “Mmm, this is pretty good.”

Arthur was actually becoming quite well-trained, Merlin realised. Apart from the grumpy expression there was no other reaction and instead Arthur carried on eating. Though he did move the plate closer to him, attempting to keep it out of Merlin’s reach. There were no further threats about sackings or anything. He did slap Merlin’s feet off the table though.

“So why are you grumpier than usual today?” Merlin asked between bites of the pizza. “Has Princess Morgana beaten you in the latest popularity poll again? Lost your position as most eligible bachelor?” He paused, seeing Arthur’s expression turn to disgust on that one. “Ah, that’s it. Has Duke Gwaine done another topless shoot?”

Arthur shook his head. “Worse. My father has decided that Morgana and I should marry.”

“Ewww!” Merlin exclaimed. “That’s disgusting!”

Arthur favoured him with what he no doubt felt was a particularly withering expression. “Not each other, you dimwit!”

To be fair, Merlin wouldn’t have put anything past King Uther, though that would have been bad even for him. “That’s a relief!”

“Yes,” Arthur told him, a long-suffering edge to his tone. “Honestly, Merlin, this is bad enough without you making jokes.”

“Perhaps it’s time to tell your father that you’re gay?” Merlin suggested.

Arthur scowled at him. “You think?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I did that, Mer-lin. It went so well that he’s come up with a failsafe plan to find me the perfect wife. A plan to get me through this phase. Isn’t that helpful?”

Merlin wisely kept silent, filling his mouth with the last of the pizza slice and shaking his head sympathetically.

“Do you know what he’s going to do?”

Merlin did not know. He shook his head again, wondering if he should go and fetch Arthur a second pizza. The poor man probably needed one. Perhaps a few cans of beer as well.

“My father has enlisted the help of a witch. An actual, genuine witch!”

“For you to marry?”

Merlin had thought it an innocent enough question but Arthur’s glare deepened.

“No! She’s going to cast some sort of spell to find me a bride and Morgana a husband. Something about soulmates and red strings and things.”

Merlin had heard of such a spell. It was complex and could only be performed by a high priestess of the old religion. In recent centuries it had almost become a legend, so rarely was it cast.

“Oh,” he said.

“Oh? Oh! Is that all you can say?”

“I’m surprised,” Merlin admitted. “Your father…”

“The King,” Arthur reminded him.

“Yes, your father the King has never appeared to be interested in magic before. I’m sure he said something about nonsensical mumbo-jumbo during my interview for this position.”

Arthur nodded. “Ah yes, I forgot that you’re a witch yourself.”

“Warlock,” Merlin corrected.

“Whatever. Same thing. Annoying and quite rubbish excuse for a manservant sounds more likely.”

“It wouldn’t be a regular witch performing the spell,” Merlin told him. “Only an extremely powerful sorceress can cast something so powerful. A high priestess, possibly.”

“High priestess… Do they have nothing better to do?” Arthur rolled his eyes in disgust. “I can’t believe father’s even doing this. We could end up with anyone.”

“Well it’s going to be your soulmate,” Merlin pointed out. “It’s not as if you’re not going to like them.”

Arthur just looked sad at that. “I’m a gay man, Merlin. I’m not going to be happy with this woman, no matter how compatible we are. And she won’t be happy either.”

It was a measure of how miserable Arthur was about the whole situation that he’d actually considered the poor woman’s feelings as well, Merlin thought. And because of that small consideration for someone else on Arthur’s part, Merlin’s reply was kinder than it might have been.

“It could be someone that you have an arrangement with,” he offered. “You might find that you become friends, and work out ways to live your own lives and be happy together.”

“Father is expecting heirs.”

Merlin decided not to reply to that. Instead he asked, “What does Morgana think about it?”

“Morgana has packed a bag and headed for some remote island where she can’t be reached. She called our father some choice names first. Didn’t even take Gwen with her.”

That meant Gwen had got some unofficial time off, Merlin realised. He resolved to call her as soon as Arthur released him for the evening. Gwen was pretty much his best friend and they could compare notes. Or at least spend many pleasant hours over bottles of wine complaining to each other about the Pendragons and their general sense of entitlement.

Mostly the complaining came from Merlin. Gwen was, in fairness, very happy with Morgana. It was odd that she hadn’t gone with her, they were normally inseparable.

“Lucky Gwen, getting a break,” Merlin commented, earning a glare from Arthur.

“You could have a permanent break!”

Merlin smiled widely, because there was no more chance of that happening than there had been five minutes earlier. “More pizza, Sire?”

“How do you manage to make that sound like an insult?” Arthur sighed.

“Practice! But if you don’t need me for anything else tonight…”

Arthur waved a hand at him. “Go. I know you’re going to head straight to Gwen so that the pair of you can indulge your shameless love of gossip!”

“We’re sympathetic,” Merlin assured him.

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no, we really are. Imagine if you two get your soulmates in here and they’re as big a prat as you! They’ll be bossing us around all the time. No, this is a tragedy for me and Gwen.”

“Gwen and I,” Arthur corrected.

“Actually, it’s Gwen and me if you’re going to be pedantic about it.”

“I’m not pedantic! And you’re wrong!”

“Look it up.”

Arthur did so. The smug look on his face quickly faded and he shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Well it doesn’t sound correct.”

“Whatever. We’re suffering too, or we will be! So, we really are sympathetic.”

“I’m underwhelmed,” Arthur told him. “Go on then. And if you get any good gossip about Morgana, don’t forget to share in the morning.”

Merlin made a zipping motion across his mouth. “Servant’s honour, no betraying secrets.”

“Except to each other.”

“Yeah…” Merlin got to his feet. “If you’re sure there’s nothing else.”

Arthur gave him that curious, appraising look that Merlin was never quite sure what to make of. It was as if there was something else and Arthur wasn’t certain how to ask it. But that was quite impossible because as Merlin well knew, Arthur never had any trouble asking for anything, no matter how annoying and inconvenient it might be.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” was all Arthur said.

Merlin picked up the now-empty plate and tray, made a half-hearted attempt at wiping down the table with his sleeve (earning yet another eye-roll from Arthur) and then headed for the door. As he opened it he glanced back. Arthur was still sitting in his chair, gazing thoughtfully at the wine-glass in his hand. He looked miserable.

“I really am sorry your father is doing this to you,” Merlin told him gently. “It’s not fair.”

Arthur nodded, but didn’t look up. Merlin took that as a cue to vanish.

Not for the first time, he was glad not to be the Crown Prince.

---

Although Merlin could (and did!) moan and complain about his job on a regular basis, he was well aware that it had some massive benefits. One of those was the decent-sized palace apartment that came with the position. It was tiny compared to Arthur or Morgana’s, but it would still have been beyond his means had he rented it in the city. Also he had the best neighbour – Gwen was right next door and was normally great company.

Not so that particular evening.

“Hi Merlin,” Gwen greeted him when she answered the intercom. “Come on in.”

Merlin pushed the door open and headed into the flat. He found Gwen sitting in her living room, nursing a glass of wine. There was a half-empty bottle on the coffee table in front of her.

“You started without me!” Merlin joked, heading for her kitchen to get his own glass and pop the bottle he’d brought into the fridge.

“Yeah. Shitty day. Can you bring out some crisps?”

Merlin rummaged through her cupboards, located a bag of peanuts and some Walkers, then headed back to the living room with his spoils.

“Morgana’s gone,” Gwen announced as soon as Merlin sat down.

“Yes, Arthur said,” Merlin poured himself a glass of the wine, then opened up the bag of crisps and offered them to Gwen. “Uther’s come up with some mad scheme to get them married off.”

“Yeah,” Gwen took a handful of crisps. “I’d be angry too. But she didn’t even say goodbye, she just packed a case and stormed out.”

“A case? Just one? Really?”

“I know!” Gwen exclaimed. “I’ve never known her go anywhere without at least four!”

“Arthur’s not happy either, but at least he’s stayed put.” Merlin took a sip of the wine then frowned, thinking about it. “Actually that’s not a good thing. If he’d gone too we’d both have time off!”

“Arthur would never go anywhere without you,” Gwen told him confidently.

“I’d have said the same about Morgana and you.”

“Mmm.” Gwen shoved a couple of the crisps in her mouth and munched noisily, crumbs going everywhere. Merlin knew she would never, ever do that in front of anyone at the palace except himself (and possibly in private with Morgana). It also meant she didn’t have to reply to what he’d said. Not immediately anyway.

Merlin waited.

Gwen raised her eyebrows at him and put a few more crisps in her mouth.

“Avoiding the statement doesn’t stop it being true,” Merlin told her.

“Well,” Gwen replied finally, “I’m still here, so you’d be wrong. She didn’t even say that she’d send for me. I might be out of a job.”

“Never. I’ll persuade Arthur to employ you!”

“As assistant to his wife-to-be?”

Merlin hadn’t considered that part. “I suppose so,” he sighed. “And if she’s Arthur’s soulmate she’s probably going to be posh and insufferable and a complete pain in the arse.”

“Perhaps it’s time we looked for other jobs?” Gwen suggested.

Merlin shrugged, then took another mouthful of wine. They both knew he’d never, ever leave Arthur.

---

Uther, of course, had to make a grand spectacle of it all.

Later, Merlin wondered whether they could have avoided a great deal of trouble simply by doing it quietly. But no. That wasn’t Uther’s way. Besides, the potential soulmates would need to be alerted to their fate so that they could come forward and receive the dubious honour of gaining Arthur or Morgana’s hand.

Merlin would have liked to point out to Arthur exactly what a rubbish honour that would be. But Arthur was still so miserable about it all that Merlin simply stayed at his side and tried to be supportive. And snarky, because if he wasn’t then Arthur would have been disappointed.

Arthur had been summoned to his father’s presence late the next morning. There was no secret about the reason – Arthur was to attend the casting of the spell.

“I don’t need to be there,” Arthur grumbled, dragging his heels as if being led to execution. “Morgana’s halfway across the world now.”

“It won’t make any difference,” Merlin warned, then shut up quickly on seeing Arthur’s scowl at the unhelpful comment.

“I should have gone with her,” Arthur grumbled.

Merlin bit his lip, because the only response would have been to point out a second time that being on the other side of the planet was not going to have any effect on the spell. The soulmate would still be identified. It was just that Morgana wouldn’t be around to meet them.

“Arthur!” Uther was actually smiling when they walked into the throne room. That was, Merlin had learned, not usually a good thing. “Perfect timing.”

Arthur muttered something under his breath. Merlin caught it. Fortunately Uther did not.

Standing beside Uther was a short, middle-aged woman with a penchant for brightly coloured scarves and flowing robes. Or perhaps the robes were just extensions of the numerous scarves draped and twisted around her person? Merlin wasn’t sure.

“King Arthur!” she greeted

She was clearly quite mad, Merlin was sure of that at least.

Uther’s smile faltered just a little. “Prince Arthur,” he corrected, but the woman ignored him, already stepping forward to greet Arthur.

“I am Finna, beloved of the Mother.”

Just one name then, as if she were Beyoncé or Madonna or someone, Merlin thought.

“Um. Hello.” Arthur held up a hand awkwardly in greeting.

“Know that magic loves you, King Arthur.”

“He’s Prince Arthur!” Uther corrected again, irritably. “He will not be king for many years.”

Finna smiled and bowed, though Merlin noticed the bow was directed more towards Arthur than his father. “My King.”

“Just get on with the spell,” Uther ordered irritably.

Finna inclined her head briefly, then raised her hands high above her head. Merlin could see her eyes glowing, gold swirling within them. The bright colour flowed from her eyes, twisting up around her arms, her hands, and then suddenly flared out. Most of it briefly engulfed Arthur (and Merlin who was right there at his side) but the rest vanished into the air.

“Is that it?” Uther asked, but Finna ignored him. She looked directly at Merlin, just for a moment.

“Emrys, trust me.” It was Finna’s voice, inside his head.

Finna turned to smile at Arthur again, her arms still outstretched, palms raised to the sky. “The blessings of the Mother be with you,” she said.

And then she clapped her hands together, once, and was gone.

“What?” Uther looked around as if he thought she might be hiding behind him or something. “Where is she?”

Arthur gaped for a moment, then got over his surprise and just shrugged. “That’s what you get for employing sorcerers, Father. And my soulmate doesn’t appear to be here after all, so if you don’t mind I’ll be off…” He turned, heading for the door, Merlin at his heels.

As Merlin closed the door behind them, he chanced a quick glance back at Uther. The King had stopped looking around in confusion and had got his phone out. No doubt his super-efficient (and very annoying) PA, George, would be summoned to investigate what had gone wrong. Though as that would keep George occupied and prevent him constantly turning up to criticise Merlin and Gwen, it wasn’t entirely a bad thing, Merlin supposed.

“Well, that was a waste of time,” Arthur grumbled as they headed back to Arthur’s rooms.

“Disappointed?”

Arthur glared at him. “Of course not! But father’s going to be in a foul mood for weeks after this and as Morgana’s away, I’ll be getting the full force of it. I think I might go on an international tour or something until he gets over it. Arrange it for me. Somewhere with beaches and plenty of sun.”

Merlin would get to go as well. It didn’t sound too awful. Although he doubted he’d get to spend much time sunning himself. Mostly, he would be running around tending to Arthur’s every whim. Still, it could have been worse, he realised. He could have been running around after Arthur and his annoying wife.

Perhaps Arthur would need suntan lotion applying?

“What are you smiling about?” Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged and spread his hands innocently. “I’m just happy.”

Arthur frowned at him puzzledly for a moment, then shook his head. “Addled,” he muttered to himself, and strode on down the corridor ahead of Merlin. “Come on, we’ve wasted enough of today already!”

Merlin wasn’t entirely sure about that. He’d definitely felt magic when Finna cast the spell. She’d done something, though he didn’t know quite what it was. And there had been her voice, in his head. Why did he have to trust her?

As Arthur pushed the door in front of them open, Merlin reached out to stop it swinging closed again before he had gone through. And that was when he saw what was there on his own hand.

A magical red thread, twisted around his finger, invisible to anyone who wasn’t a magic user, unmistakable to anyone who was.

The soulbond mark.

---

To say that Merlin was a little distracted for the rest of the day would have been an understatement. Even Arthur (who wasn’t always the most perceptive of people) had noticed and commented. Although he was used to people hanging on his every word, and having Merlin staring off into the distance instead of paying attention to his royal pratliness no doubt had come as a shock.

It was a day for shocks. Merlin hadn’t got over his own yet. All in all, he felt it was far greater than the one to Arthur’s delicate sensibilities.

It made sense, of course. The princess Morgana had magic, so naturally she would be bonded to another magic user. Merlin simply had never expected it to be himself. He very much doubted that Morgana would have expected to be landed with him as her soulmate, either. It was just fortunate that she’d run off because Merlin had no doubt that if she were still around, then it would have been impossible to resist the spell.

Merlin sighed. “But I’m a gay man…”

“What?” Arthur said, his forehead creased with annoyance. “Is that supposed to be funny, Mer-lin? Are you mocking me?”

“No!”

“Oh you are awake then? Listen, if you can’t do anything other than mope around then you’re dismissed for the day. Honestly, I think I have enough problems of my own without whatever’s going on with you.”

It was true that Arthur had problems, though the prince didn’t realise as much yet. A piece of magical red string had appeared around Arthur’s finger too. That was perhaps less of a surprise as it had been the point of Finna’s spell. And somewhere there would be a woman sporting a matching thread. Most likely she wasn’t even aware of it yet.

Merlin hadn’t had the heart to tell Arthur that it was there. It was just too horrible. Instead he’d kept his distance, busying himself with chores that didn’t involve looking at Arthur’s hand. Or, perhaps not actually busying himself, because he had to keep stopping to think about the red fate bound on his own finger. Still, leaving a few hours early was an opportunity not to be missed.

“I’ll be off then,” Merlin replied.

“Fine.” Arthur sat down at his desk, though Merlin doubted he’d actually do any work there.

“See you tomorrow.”

Arthur huffed, settling back into his chair. “If father hasn’t come up with some other way to marry me off.”

He had steepled his hands together in front of him. The thread was right there and Arthur still didn’t even know. Merlin bit his lip, staring at it. He should say something.

“Oh now what?” Arthur grumbled. “Really, Merlin, you’re so distracted today. Have I got something on my hand now? Is it… oh.” He stopped talking, looking down at his hands, turning them over to examine them. “It’s on me, isn’t it? The spell. You can see it.”

“Sorry.”

“I can’t see it.”

“You don’t have magic.”

Except he did, as far as Merlin was concerned. Beautiful, unique Arthur magic with his golden hair and handsome face, and the kind spirit that slipped through every now and then when Arthur thought nobody would notice.

“She really did it,” Arthur said sadly, still looking at his hands even though there was nothing for him to see. “Father’s going to realise, then he’s going to start hunting for this poor woman.”

“He won’t be able to see it either,” Merlin pointed out.

“He’ll get someone with magic to look!”

“You could wear gloves?” Because Merlin was going to wear gloves every day for the rest of his life. Well, at least what was left of his life before Morgana found out and killed him. She’d always been kind to Merlin, but he’d seen enough of her scary side turned on other people to know exactly what his chances were of surviving it.

“Yes, that’s going to fool him,” Arthur said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “Because he won’t immediately demand that I take them off now will he?”

Perhaps cutting his finger off would do the trick. Merlin would miss his finger a lot and it would hurt, but probably it would hurt less than Morgana biting his head off straight after sex like the deadly female that she was. Sex that probably wouldn’t be any good anyway, Merlin being a gay man and all.

“I don’t know what to do,” Merlin admitted.

“Well that’s nothing new.” Arthur clearly thought they were talking about himself. But that was fine as far as Merlin was concerned.

“You said I could leave for the day?”

Arthur shook his head. “That was before I realised you can see this thing. We need to find a way to remove it. You’re magic, you must know a way?”

Merlin shook his head. “It never goes away. You find your soulmate and the two strings weave together and that’s that.”

“What, I’m going to be physically tied to this woman forever? I won’t be able to ever be apart from her?” Arthur actually looked distraught. “That’s…”

“Not going to happen,” Merlin finished for him. “Arthur, no. They’re magical threads, they’ll bind together with magic. You could be on opposite sides of the planet and you’d still be linked.”

“So we don’t have to be together?” Arthur gazed back at him, eyes wide and pleading. If it weren’t for the thread on Merlin’s own finger he would have felt sorry for him. But Merlin’s fate was far worse than Arthur’s could ever be.

“I don’t know, Arthur. Look, you might really like the person.”

“I’ll never have sex again for the rest of my life!” Arthur pointed out. “Excuse me if I’m not very happy about it!”

“It could be worse. Think of the poor man who’s destined to be with Morgana! He’ll have sex with her once, possibly, and then she’ll decapitate him!”

“What?” Arthur’s forehead creased in confusion.

But right at that moment Merlin’s phone rang, distracting them both.

“Hi Gwen,” Merlin put the phone to his ear.

“Turn on the TV! Right now!”

“She says we need to put the TV on!” Merlin repeated. The remote for the TV on the wall was lying on the desk beside Arthur.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “I give the orders, Merlin.”

“Just turn it on!”

He was quite surprised when Arthur actually obeyed. The large TV flicked into life.

There was no need to ask Gwen which channel she wanted them to turn to. There on the screen, filmed from somewhere inside the palace, was King Uther. Next to him was Dr Gaius. Gaius was official magical advisor to the King and also Merlin’s great-uncle.

“Sound,” Merlin requested.

“Not your servant, Merlin,” Arthur grumbled, but he did as he was bid.

“He’s announced it to the world,” Gwen said over the phone. “Morgana’s going to be livid.”

“…searching for the two individuals who are the perfect matches for my beloved children.” There was something a bit creepy about Uther when he smiled, Merlin thought. “Naturally, any magic users will be able to see the soulbond mark immediately. So I am asking that all magic users join the search. An opportunity to be of service to your King.”

“Does he think that we’re living in the middle ages?” Merlin asked out loud. He heard Gwen snort disgustedly on the other end of the phone.

Arthur didn’t disagree with him. “Father does have a quite odd view of how people see the monarchy,” he commented. “I would imagine that there are plenty of people out there who would happily lead a revolution before they did anything to help the royal family. This won’t end well.”

“People do like you though,” Merlin pointed out. “God knows why,” he added quickly.

Arthur was the most annoying person in the universe, but he also championed a number of child charities and could be surprisingly kind-hearted when the mood took him. To children. Not to Merlin. Though having seen Arthur spending hours sitting with sick kids in a hospital ward on Merlin’s first week as his PA had gone a long way towards ensuring Merlin didn’t hand his notice in. That and the fact that his friend Will had bet him a tenner that he wouldn’t last a fortnight.

“I’m charming,” Arthur informed him. “Don’t roll your eyes like that. Oh, and ask Gwen if she’s heard from Morgana. I don’t see why I should suffer this alone.”

“Not a word from her,” Gwen confirmed. “Oh, have to go. There are calls coming in. See you later.”

“Nothing,” Merlin confirmed as Gwen ended the call. He put his phone back in his pocket, trying to ignore the way that it had already started beeping with incoming messages. It was going to be a hectic few days ahead, he could tell.

Arthur’s gaze was still mostly set on the TV screen. The presenter was talking to a stony-faced Dr Gaius about the soulbond marks, and how someone might know that they had one.

“Well, a magic user will be able to see it, and a non-magic user will simply have to find a magic user to ask,” Gaius told them. “I would have thought that were obvious.”

“Your uncle’s not too pleased,” Arthur commented.

“He doesn’t like magic being used for what he calls frivolous purposes,” Merlin agreed. “This would definitely fall into that category.”

“Well there you have it!” the TV presenter beamed delightedly at the camera. “We all need to befriend a magic user at once. Dr Gaius, we’re friends now…”

Gaius raised a fearsome eyebrow at the woman, but as she was still looking at the camera she didn’t notice.

“…can you take a look at my hand? I don’t suppose I’m the lucky girl who gets to marry Prince Arthur?” She laughed, waggling her hand in front of Gaius’ disapproving nose.

“You are most definitely not,” Gaius confirmed.

“Awww.” It didn’t stop the presenter smiling cheesily. “Bad luck to me. But Prince Arthur’s wife and Princess Morgana’s husband are out there somewhere! All you need to do is turn up at the palace! Oh, I love royal weddings!”

Merlin put his hand into his pocket. The sooner he could find some magic-camouflaging gloves the better.

Arthur turned the TV off. “Royal weddings,” he repeated disgustedly. “I’d rather poke a stick in my eye.”

“That would spoil the upcoming wedding pictures,” Merlin pointed out.

“Shut up, Merlin.”

Merlin shut up, but made sure that Arthur could see the shit-eating grin on his face.

And perhaps it would have been better if Uther had shut up too, and not gone on what turned out eventually to be international TV with the announcement. Or at least not told every potential suitor not to go to the palace.

Because the next day the queue outside the gates was ridiculously long.

---

There were nine hundred and seventy-two people who claimed to be either Arthur or Morgana’s soulmate and were carrying a magical mark to prove it. That was after the twenty-five thousand or so who had tied a piece of red string around their finger had been eliminated.

“Clearly the spell has gone wrong,” Uther announced. “Find Finna, have her explain herself.”

Merlin stood quietly beside Arthur in Uther’s office. The King had summoned Arthur, Dr Gaius and, as Morgana was still absent, Gwen had to stand in. George, Uther’s assistant, was standing respectfully behind the King, his back ramrod straight. Merlin slouched deliberately, just to see that little twitch of disapproval in George’s eye when he did so.

Gaius looked, amazingly, even more displeased than he had during the media interview. “Finna is a high priestess, your majesty. If she wishes to remain hidden then finding her will be nigh on impossible.”

“Try!”

Uther’s expression was murderous. But the days when kings could order those who displeased them to undergo some hideous and possibly fatal form of punishment were long behind them. Merlin had noticed that Gaius said what he thought to Uther and to hell with the consequences.

Uther had, in the early days, sacked Gaius numerous times. As Gaius had then taken the opportunity to immediately go on holiday somewhere sunny and remote for a few weeks and therefore was unavailable when Uther rapidly changed his mind and demanded his return, even sacking was now out of the question.

Gaius was Merlin’s favourite uncle and also his mentor. Sadly for Merlin, although Arthur could be slow to pick up some things he was considerably more intelligent than his father and had more sense than to provide a holiday opportunity for his assistant. It was a pity, as Merlin had a number of destinations in mind and was quite looking forward to hearing Arthur beg him to return.

“I have tried,” Gaius explained. “Might I remind your majesty that I did advise that there might be unfortunate results from going down this route?”

“No you may not!” Uther growled.

Merlin could understand the King’s feelings in that particular instance. Nobody liked I told you so. Still, as Merlin’s own fate was horrifically grim, he had little sympathy.

“Very good, your majesty. Perhaps I could point out that I advised against announcing it on the world’s media?”

“Never mind that! How do we find which of these suitors is genuine?” Uther demanded.

Gaius pursed his lips, then replied. “Arthur and Morgana will need to meet them.”

“Oh, God,” Arthur groaned. “Please, no.”

Gaius ignored him. “This particular spell uses true love’s kiss. Arthur and Morgana will be drawn to their respective soulmates and when they first kiss, the bond will form.”

“I’m not kissing nine hundred and however many strangers!” Arthur exclaimed.

Uther waved his protests aside. “Half of them are here for Morgana.”

“Actually most of them are here for Arthur,” Gaius corrected. “After all, he is the heir to the throne. Whoever marries him will be Queen.”

Arthur made a strange sort of strangled sound in his throat. Merlin patted his arm sympathetically.

“We’ll hold a ball,” Uther decided. “George, organise it.”

George gave a respectful bow. “An honour, my King.”

“Creep,” Merlin muttered under his breath. He saw Gwen trying to hide a little smile at that.

Uther hadn’t noticed or heard. His attention was still on his son. “You’ll attend the ball and then you can meet them all.”

“Father, no.”

“You’ll only need to kiss those women you feel drawn to.”

“I am a gay man!” Arthur yelled. “I am not going to feel drawn to any of them!”

“This will be an end to all that nonsense,” Uther told him. “Wife, heir, spare. That’s your duty.”

“Are we sure that Arthur’s soulmate will be female?” Gwen asked timidly.

That would have been the point when, were they living a few hundred years earlier, Gwen would have been following Gaius to the courtyard. Merlin wondered if Uther was considering it anyway, judging by his expression.

“Of course, she will! What a stupid question.”

“Don’t be rude to Gwen,” Arthur put in, and Merlin felt a rare glow of pride in his prince. “It was a good question. Gaius?”

Merlin thought of the magical mark on his own finger, but didn’t dare let himself hope. Of course, he was going to be bound to Morgana. They both had strong magic. The only bond he had with Arthur was a secret crush that Arthur could never know about. It certainly wasn’t returned. Arthur would probably cut his own finger off rather than bond with Merlin.

“To my knowledge that has never happened,” Gaius told them. “Without exception, the soulmates have been a man and a woman.”

“As far as you know,” Arthur checked.

“Yes.”

“Are some of those claiming to be my suitors men?”

“Some,” Gaius admitted, carefully not looking at Uther. “Not many.”

“I should meet them first,” Arthur decided.

“We are holding a ball,” Uther repeated. “Enough of this nonsense. You will greet every woman in attendance and your sister will greet every man.”

“Morgana isn’t here,” Arthur pointed out.

“Well, get her back!” Uther gave Gwen a sharp look. “You, find her, make sure she’s here in time.”

“I don’t know where she is,” Gwen stammered, glancing nervously at Arthur and Merlin.

“Well, do your job! Find out! You!” he pointed at Merlin. “Help her. Aren’t you supposed to have some magical ability?”

“A little,” Merlin admitted.

“Then do that thing you weirdos do with the pools and the mirrors!”

“You mean scrying.”

“Whatever! Just do it! Get her back here. Now go, all of you! Not you, George.”

They didn’t exactly run to the door, but there was a moment when Merlin and Gwen almost collided in their haste to get out. Even Gaius was right on their heels. Merlin had noticed that his supposedly aged uncle could move remarkably quickly when it suited him. And remarkably slowly when it did not.

“Poor George!” Gwen exclaimed as soon as they were safely outside, the solid door and a rapidly increasing stretch of corridor separating them from the angry King.

Merlin was less sympathetic. George had tried to drop him in it with the King far too many times in the past. The sycophantic perfectionist deserved whatever he got. Besides… “George loves organising things. He’ll love sorting out the ball.”

“Yes, it’s a pity Merlin isn’t the one organising it,” Arthur agreed miserably. “We’d still be waiting for it to happen a decade from now!”

“Funny.”

Arthur nodded, agreeing because he was annoying. “Yes, I am.”

“In your dreams.”

“In my dreams, I have a competent servant.”

“In my dreams, I have…”

“Please stop,” Gaius instructed. “I do not wish to hear about either of your dreams. Uther will fire Gwen if we don’t contact Morgana and bring her back. Gwen, I will email you the address of the retreat where she’s staying.”

Arthur stopped dead, Merlin almost cannoning into him. “You know where she is?”

“Of course, I do. Do you honestly think I’ve been working for your father for all these years and haven’t had somewhere to escape to?”

“And you told Morgana but not me?”

“I trust Morgana to keep it to herself. And Gwen, obviously. You and Merlin, not so much.”

Merlin joined Arthur in frowning at Gaius, though he was slightly less pouty about it. “I’m your nephew!”

“Yes,” Gaius replied. There was something in the tone of his voice that really wasn’t complimentary to Merlin.

“Gwen will tell me.”

“I will not,” Gwen insisted. “Thank you, Gaius.”

Merlin jabbed an accusatory (gloved) finger at her. “We’re supposed to be friends!”

“Why are you wearing gloves?” Arthur asked.

“I…” Merlin glanced down, then back at Arthur, realising his mistake in drawing attention to his gloved hands. He could see Gaius look curiously at him. No doubt his uncle could see the magical bindings woven into the gloves. “I got a bad paper cut opening your post this morning. Hygiene.”

Gaius raised an eyebrow. Merlin’s heart sank.

Gwen because she was the kindest person in the world, despite her refusal to divulge secrets, immediately made sympathetic noises. “Oh, I’ll clean that up and pop a plaster on that for you, Merlin. Come on.”

Gwen wouldn’t be able to see the soulmark. But she would be able to see the complete lack of any injury.

“It’s okay, I already have a plaster on,” he assured her.

“Then why do you need the gloves?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, Merlin,” Gaius put in. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear them before. It must be a very bad cut.”

“On both hands,” Arthur added.

“One glove would look strange.”

“I should look at it,” Gwen insisted, taking hold of one of his hands and lifting it up. “Come on, take this off.”

It was the hand without the soulmark, so it would have been safe to show it had Merlin actually got any sort of paper cut at all. But there was something far more intriguing than Merlin’s gloves to be seen.

“What’s that?” Gaius asked, immediately interested. “On your hand, Gwen, what is it?”

Gwen gazed at her hands in puzzlement. “There’s nothing. What do you mean?”

“Just there, on your left hand,” Gaius stepped forward, holding his own hand out to take Gwen’s and examine it. “May I see?”

Gwen reluctantly held up her hand, glancing nervously at Merlin as she did so.

The soulmark was there, clear as day to any magic user.

“You’re Arthur’s soulmate,” Merlin told her sadly. It was hard to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He’d known it couldn’t be him, but to have the confirmation right there was horrible. Although at least it was Gwen. He tried really hard to feel pleased for his friend. “You’ll be a brilliant queen.”

“I can’t see anything,” Gwen told them. “Are you sure?”

“It’s definitely a soulmark,” Gaius confirmed. “And unlike the crowds of would-be queens outside, you won’t have faked it. So yes, I’m sure. Obviously you and Arthur will need to kiss to cement the bond and be sure.”

“Oh.” Gwen turned to look at Arthur, a wary expression on her face. Arthur had been staring at her in amazement, but quickly pulled himself together.

“Well.” He looked around at them all. “Well. Um… Gwen. Merlin is quite correct and you will be a wonderful queen.”

“I’m not kissing you or anyone else,” Gwen told him pointedly. “Gaius, there has to be some mistake here. I can’t be Arthur’s soulmate.”

Gaius shrugged apologetically. “It would seem that you are.”

Gwen and Arthur gazed miserably at each other.

“It is possible that the spell may have expanded beyond the people it was intended for,” Gaius added. “Sometimes, particularly when the caster is a powerful sorcerer, the spell can reach others. In this particular case Morgana is absent, so it would have been a strong spell.”

“So my soulmark could be for someone else entirely?” Gwen realised.

“Possibly.”

Merlin knew that there was little hope that his own would be. Two powerful magic users were bound to be drawn together.

“I really don’t want to kiss Arthur to find out,” Gwen said. “It would be so awkward afterwards. Surely, there’s another way. Wouldn’t we just know?”

Gaius shrugged, spreading his hands. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen this spell cast before.”

“I suppose we could try getting to know one another,” Arthur decided. “We’ll have dinner this evening in my rooms.”

“How could I refuse such a gracious invitation?” Gwen muttered.

“Is that a yes?”

Gwen shrugged. “I suppose I don’t have much choice.”

“Sorry,” Arthur offered. “If that helps? And honestly, Gwen, although I’m really sorry for you, from my point of view I’m glad it’s you. Someone I do genuinely like.”

Gwen gave him a small smile for that.

Merlin, his gloved hands shoved deep in his pockets, stared miserably at the floor.

---

The dinner date wasn’t a disaster.

Gwen and Arthur did like each other. To Arthur, Gwen was his sister’s kind-hearted assistant who tended to blunt the edges of some of Morgana’s worst barbs. To Gwen, Arthur was her friend’s boss and also the king in waiting. He was almost always polite to her, and that continued throughout the date.

In short, the evening was awkward and boring for them both. And for Merlin, who had to sit through it all supposedly in case Arthur needed anything, it wasn’t much better.

Afterwards, Merlin walked home with Gwen at Arthur’s request. There was no opportunity to check how Arthur was feeling. From Merlin’s experience, his being sent away early normally meant that Arthur wasn’t doing particularly well and wanted to hide the fact. Arthur would be brooding miserably all night.

Gwen wasn’t brooding. Gwen was annoyed.

“I still think this is wrong,” she told Merlin as they walked back. “If I have this mark…”

“You do.” Merlin could see it there on her hand, glowing almost as brightly as his own did. At least with Gaius absent he hadn’t needed to wear gloves to disguise it. As far as he was aware the only magic users in the palace were himself, Gaius and Morgana.

“If I have this mark,” Gwen continued, “then it must be for someone else. I’d feel at least some spark of attraction to Arthur. I was googling it earlier. What Gaius said is right. That spell can easily go to a number of people. My soulmate might even be someone in those hundreds of people who think they’re getting Morgana. What a disappointment for them!”

“Hardly! I’d definitely rather spend my life with you than Morgana,” Merlin assured her as they reached her apartment. “No contest.”

Gwen smiled, unlocking her front door. “Thanks Merlin. Got time for a hot chocolate?”

Merlin always had time for one of Gwen’s amazing hot chocolates. “Marshmallows and sprinkles?”

“Even a flake and squirty cream. It’s been a terrible day.”

There was no arguing with that. Merlin followed her inside, to her kitchen, then sat on a stool and waited while she made their drinks.

“I suppose these will be lost to me forever once you’re queen,” Merlin told her. “You’ll have to send me the recipe.”

“I’m sure it’s not me,” Gwen replied.

“If the spell’s gone wrong, perhaps it hit the King too!” Merlin teased. “Imagine!”

“No! Do you want this hot chocolate poured over your head?” Gwen warned, lifting up the saucepan of milk that she was heating. “Stop it, Merlin.”

“Sorry.” Merlin sat quietly for a moment, swivelling back and forth on the kitchen stool. “Oh! Did you get in touch with Morgana? Uncle Gaius was going to send you her location.”

Gwen shook her head. “I left a message at her hotel, but nothing yet. Here, stir this, I’ll try messaging her again.” She stood back to let Merlin take over the hot chocolate, and took out her phone. Merlin could see what she was typing.

Help! Merlin says I have the soulmate mark. I’m going to have to marry your brother.

There was only the briefest of delays, proving (as they had suspected) that Morgana was receiving and reading all her messages.

I’m coming back. Do not marry anyone.

Merlin stared at Gwen in horror, dropping the wooden spoon into the hot chocolate with a clatter. “No! If she comes back she’ll see my mark and have sex with me then kill me!”

“What?” Gwen’s forehead creased in confusion.

“I’m her soulmate! I’ll have to marry her and do the nasty with her. She’s going to eat me after the deed! Like a black widow!”

“What?”

Merlin waved his hand at her. “Soulmark! I know you can’t see it but it’s there. I’m destined for Morgana! And I’m gay so that’s not going to go well.”

“You have a soulmark too?” Gwen checked. “And it appeared after that woman cast the spell?”

“Yes!”

“Oh.” Gwen gave him a curious look, but didn’t comment further.

“Yes! Oh! Oh look, Morgana’s back and she’s not happy. What’s that she’s doing? Oh just murdering Merlin so that she doesn’t have to spend her life with him. Nothing to see here, move along!”

Gwen laughed at that, which didn’t help. “Of course she won’t! Hey, you’re supposed to be stirring that,” she reminded him, nodding towards the saucepan. She did seem to suddenly be far more relaxed about the whole situation.

Reluctantly Merlin picked up the spoon again. “My last night on earth… Wonder if Arthur will even miss me?”

Gwen actually rolled her eyes at him. “I really wouldn’t worry about that, Merlin. I’m pretty sure you’ll be at Arthur’s side for a long, long time.”

And he was sure that he heard her mutter under her breath; “Two clueless idiots together.” But when he looked round she was smiling angelically and tapping away on her phone. This time she was keeping it turned away from him. Probably messaging Morgana again.

He was doomed.

---

George was an impressively fast and efficient worker, Merlin had to give him that.

He’d managed to organise the ball for that very Saturday, just two days after Uther had instructed him to sort it out. There was wall to wall coverage on every TV channel. Interviews with the prospective soulmates. All of them, or that’s what it felt like. Questions about who and why and when. Learned experts on the spell mulling over what should have happened and where it had all gone wrong.

Arthur had thrown his remote out of the window in frustration earlier. Merlin hadn’t bothered going to find it. He’d heard it smash when it hit the ground.

“Why can’t it just be Gwen?” Arthur asked for the umpteenth time that day.

Merlin was preparing him for the ball. Arthur had already rejected seven different suits, all of which had looked identical to Merlin. He was running out of options.

“It still might be,” Merlin offered.

“No. I’d feel something, I’m sure of it.” Arthur was sitting on the edge of his bed, ready to judge the next suit that Merlin brought out of the wardrobe room.

The wardrobe room was actually bigger than Merlin’s bedroom. In fact, it was even slightly larger than Arthur’s bedroom. Inside were rows and rows of clothes, all shrouded in protective clear covers, awaiting the day that they would be chosen as the prince’s attire. There was some sort of carousel device built into it so that the whole thing could rotate and bring suitable outfits to the front. Unfortunately this relied on Arthur’s assistant correctly cataloguing any new clothing when it arrived. Since Merlin had taken over the role, the catalogue was no longer very efficient.

“I hate that one,” Arthur told him, nodding towards the latest penguin suit that Merlin was holding up.

“It’s exactly the same as all your other ones.”

“I hate those too.”

Sometimes, when he was particularly bored, Merlin would play around with the carousel. This was another reason that it didn’t work too well any more. It was quite possible that he’d brought out the same suit as rejection number three, but he wasn’t sure.

“Why don’t you just come in and pick one?” Merlin grumbled. “Save me bringing them all out to you.”

He prepared himself for the inevitable retort that would be something along the lines of That’s what you’re for, Merlin. But, to his surprise, Arthur actually got up and followed him over to the wardrobe.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter what I wear.”

“Clothes would be good,” Merlin replied automatically.

“I hadn’t intended turning up naked,” Arthur told him snarkily.

Merlin wasn’t prepared for the way the thought of Arthur without clothes would make him feel. Usually he was adept at tapping down his feelings for Arthur, but the thought of losing him (and having to marry Morgana) seemed to be having an adverse effect on that particular skill. At least that morning Arthur had managed to pull on the (doubtless very expensive) Henley and jeans that he was currently wearing before Merlin arrived.

When he glanced at Arthur, he noticed there was a faint flush on the prince’s face as well. Probably thinking about the suitors, and the fact that one would turn out to be his soulmate with all that entailed, Merlin realised.

“Just pick something, then we’ll all be spared that particular horror,” Merlin replied. “Here,” he handed over the remote for the clothes carousel. “You pick.”

That was a mistake, Merlin realised in retrospect. Perhaps he had got so used to his own special reference words (or lack of) that he had lost track of just how badly the wardrobe now worked.

“That’s a pair of jeans,” Arthur commented, looking at the first thing that had come up. “Ah, that’s a waterproof jacket… that’s another pair of jeans… Merlin, what have you done to my wardrobe?”

“The codes are stupid,” Merlin offered. “I forget which ones to put against which clothes.”

“You just use the existing hangers, they’re pre-coded. There’s a stock of them in the cupboard at the back of the wardrobe.”

Merlin had not known that. That would have been helpful to have been told. “Morris didn’t tell me that.”

Morris had been Arthur’s last assistant. He’d been glad to leave and only given Merlin the briefest of handovers. Most of what Merlin had learned about the job had either been from Gwen, trial and error, and finally George when there was a bit too much of the error part.

“I’m surprised Gwen didn’t.”

“I told her I knew how to operate the wardrobe. Anyway, I do, I’ve dressed you for all this time and you’ve never… uh… you’ve not complained much.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, which said it all really. “Come on then, Mer-lin. Let’s see what horror you can find for me to wear. Father wants me to turn up in some sort of military jacket with medals.”

“Medals for excellence in waving at crowds?”

“Pretty much. I’m not wearing it. It doesn’t feel right.”

Merlin didn’t tease further on that point. He knew it was a sore point with Arthur, who had wanted to join the RAF and carry out a useful role. Instead he’d been given some sort of honorary role and title along with his pilot’s licence, and never gone near an actual RAF posting. It was one of the many, many things that Arthur didn’t see eye to eye with his father on.

Taking the remote back, and quickly changing the subject, Merlin got the carousel to produce a couple of actual suits. “What about this light grey one? Or that blue one?” He particularly liked Arthur in blue and grey, the colour seemed to bring out the beautiful blue of his eyes. But he couldn’t tell Arthur that.

“Just one of the black ones,” Arthur decided. “It’s my funeral, after all. I should dress appropriately. That one,” he pointed.

“It’s exactly the same as the eight you’ve already rejected. In fact, I think it was number five,” Merlin grumbled, taking out the suit and putting it over his arm. “Shirt? Black as well? Tie?”

“Any white shirt. Father will want one of the ties with the Pendragon crest on it.”

That was easy enough. Arthur had literally hundreds of plain white shirts and more red ties with the Pendragon crest embroidered in gold than was remotely reasonable for one person. Merlin picked a couple out then chivvied Arthur back into the bedroom.

“Shower,” he ordered. “Your father’s going to want you absolutely perfect for this.”

Arthur grumbled, but headed off towards his royal bathroom. Merlin steeled himself for the fact that soon enough a fresh-smelling, wet and only partially covered prince would be emerging. For Merlin to dress.

His life really was the worst.

As he waited, he took a moment to check his phone. There were three missed messages from Gwen.

Morgana’s flight just landed x

She’s on her way to the Palace x

Leon says she’s really not happy x

Merlin frowned at his phone. Leon was one of the chauffeurs and a good friend of both Merlin and Gwen. Normally he got on with everyone, even the King.

Just don’t say anything about me being her soulmate. Please, Gwen.

Gwen’s only response was a smiley face. That could mean anything. But Merlin had no more time to think about it. Arthur chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom, flushed and damp and clad only in a fluffy white towel.

It really wasn’t fair.

Merlin forced a smile onto his face and quickly darted past Arthur into the bathroom. “I’ll just get you a few more towels, we’ll have you dry and dressed in no time!”

In the temporary refuge of Arthur’s bathroom, Merlin paused, trying to compose himself. He’d always had a stupid, unrequited crush on Arthur and now that he was faced with losing him it seemed to be getting worse.

“Come on,” he muttered under his breath. “You’ve done this a thousand times.”

“Are you talking to yourself in there?” Arthur called.

“Only way to get a sensible conversation!” Merlin called back.

“Hah, hah.”

Merlin grabbed a couple of towels and headed back out. At least Arthur hadn’t done what he did in the first few weeks of having Merlin work for him and taken the towel off. That had thankfully stopped quite early on for some reason known only to Arthur. Instead he had picked up the suit he was supposed to be wearing later.

“Don’t you dare put that on yet,” Merlin warned. He wouldn’t put it past Arthur to deliberately spill coffee down it. Arthur’s delaying tactics when he didn’t want to attend an event were one of the many banes of Merlin’s existence. King Uther, of course, always held Merlin responsible for them. “Use one of your five dozen bathrobes!”

He thought he might get an argument. That was another of Arthur’s favourite delaying tactics – pick a quarrel with Merlin. But instead Arthur did actually put the suit down, took one of the towels that Merlin had brought out and started to dry himself off.

Merlin decided he probably didn’t need to watch that either.

“Do you think I could say I’m ill or something?” Arthur asked. “Get out of it that way? You could go and tell Father?”

That was a terrible idea. “Yes, he’s been looking for an excuse to send me to the Tower,” Merlin agreed.

“We don’t do that any more.”

“He would. If he could. Oh, Gwen messaged me while you were in the shower. She says Morgana is on her way to the palace,” Merlin offered. “You won’t be alone.”

“What?” Arthur dropped the towel he was holding (luckily the one around his waist stayed in place) and stared at Merlin. “Really? Thank God!”

“Yes. Gwen told her about her own soulmark and that she might have to marry you. She was on the next plane out.”

“Good! Wait,” Arthur pointed an accusing finger at Merlin, “how long have you known she was coming home?”

Merlin shrugged non-committedly. “She might not have got on the plane. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Arthur looked as if he might have something else to say about it, but just then there was an authoritative knock on the apartment door. When Merlin answered it, he found George on the other side, along with one of the palace stylists.

“His majesty decrees that Prince Arthur is to be ready to receive the suitors at seven pm promptly,” George told him by way of greeting. “Sefa will prepare the prince.”

“Has Morgana arrived yet?” Arthur called over.

“The princess is ten minutes from the palace. We have three stylists ready and waiting to receive her. Fear not, Prince Arthur. All will be ready for the ball.”

“Christ,” Merlin heard Arthur mutter. But that was the end of Arthur’s protests as both Sefa and George pushed past Merlin and took over preparations.

“Oh this won’t do at all,” George exclaimed when he saw the chosen suit. “Your dress uniform is to be worn, your highness. Merlin, fetch it.”

“Merlin, leave it,” Arthur ordered.

Merlin answered to Arthur. When it suited him. He didn’t answer to George. “Whatever you say, Sire.” There wasn’t even any sarcasm on the ‘Sire’. On that one occasion.

“I’m wearing this suit, George,” Arthur insisted.

“The King has decreed…”

“The King can do one. This is all his fault anyway. And I’m not wearing a lie. Now go away, Merlin and Sefa are more than capable of helping me.”

Merlin couldn’t help giving George a smug little smile and making shooing motions with his hands. George glared at him, almost glared at Arthur then seemed to remember who Arthur was and amended his expression into something more neutral.

“I will report back to the King,” George told them stiffly. He gave Arthur the barest of bows, quite unlike the deferential one that he always provided for Uther.

“You do that,” Arthur replied. “Merlin, please get me a beer.”

“The King said no alcohol,” George warned.

“Are you still here? Merlin, forget about the beer, find me some vodka.”

“Yes, Sire,” Merlin replied cheerfully, giving George a huge grin before heading off to the kitchenette in Arthur’s suite. “Can I have one too?”

“Of course! Sefa, would you like a drink?”

Merlin didn’t hear the reply to that but when he returned, George was gone.

“You’d better make it coffee,” Arthur told him. “I suppose I’m going to have to keep my wits about me during this ordeal.”

Merlin thought that Arthur wasn’t the only one who would need to do that. But he could have done with the vodka anyway.

Still, it was satisfying when, twenty minutes later, Uther burst into Arthur’s rooms in a rage and found them all drinking coffee instead of the vodka that sneaky George had no doubt reported.

---

At seven pm exactly, Arthur and Merlin arrived at the ballroom.

Arthur was wearing the dark suit that he had picked out, even though his father had given them a furious rant on why he should be wearing a military uniform. Arthur had eventually shut him up by agreeing, telling Merlin to get the uniform out, then going with his original outfit as soon as the King had left the room.

“I suppose I’ll never get away with doing this again,” Arthur pointed out as his father strode up to them, furious.

“He can’t keep watch on you all the time,” Merlin whispered back.

“Do you want to bet?” Arthur hissed. “Hello Father, look here we are, on time!”

The fact they were there without a second to spare meant that there was no chance of Arthur getting sent back to change. They’d timed it to perfection.

Uther glared at Arthur, then gave Merlin a stare so full of anger that Merlin was surprised to find himself still standing. “You are responsible for my son’s wardrobe. You’re fired. Go.”

“You can’t fire Merlin,” Arthur told his father. “I employed him. I ordered him to dress me in this suit. He begged me to reconsider, fearing the wrath of his beloved King. It would be very wrong to punish him. Also, is that a TV crew out there? Merlin, do feel free to go to them for an interview if you’re no longer under contract.”

Merlin couldn’t speak, too busy trying to keep a straight face. There was a vein twitching in Uther’s forehead.

“Don’t even think about it,” Uther warned, jabbing a finger in Merlin’s face. “Now go away and do whatever it is that you do. Arthur, walk with me.”

Arthur managed a despairing glance in Merlin’s direction before he was whisked away by his father, no doubt being given his orders for the evening. Left alone, Merlin looked around, trying to decide whether to hang around or leave. Arthur hadn’t given any instructions on what he wanted Merlin to do once they had arrived.

Everyone seemed to be busy. Merlin could see George on the other side of the ballroom, bossing various staff members about. Dainty nibbles and drink was being organised in a room to the side. A band was doing sound checks up on the stage. Last minute additions were being added to the already over the top decorations. And outside, stretching in a long line through the palace grounds, were the guests.

The entirely fake guests, except possibly one, if Gwen was correct and she really wasn’t Arthur’s soulmate.

As if by magic, Gwen appeared at his side, smiling far too cheerfully for such a traumatic occasion. “Hi Merlin! Ooh, Arthur looks great!”

“Arthur always looks great,” Merlin agreed miserably. “You could put him in a bin bag and he’d still look amazing.”

“I know. Morgana’s the same,” Gwen nodded towards the princess who had come in without Merlin noticing. She was stunning in a sea green gown, dotted with tiny diamante sparkles that glittered as she moved.

Morgana, surprisingly, looked quite happy.

“Has she come round to the idea?” Merlin wondered.

“Oh yes,” Gwen grinned. “We had a chat about it all when she got back. She’s completely changed her mind and thinks it’s a great idea. Can’t wait to bond with her soulmate.”

“Oh God, did you tell her it was me?” Merlin wailed. “Gwen…”

“No, no of course not. But you need to change. Can’t have you stepping up as a royal consort dressed as a servant. Come on, it’ll take ages for that crowd to get in. Let’s go and get dressed.”

“I don’t want to.”

Gwen grabbed his arm and pretty much frogmarched him to the door. “Tough. Come on.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I’ve sorted that out, don’t worry.”

“But…”

“No buts!”

“But…”

Gwen just hummed happily. He was fairly sure it was the bridal march, though being musical was one of the few talents that Gwen didn’t possess so it was hard to tell.

“I hate you.”

“I know!” She didn’t stop smiling.

At least he’d be able to keep an eye on Arthur, Merlin supposed. And he couldn’t avoid Morgana forever. At some point he would have to face her, and his tragic fate.

“You’re going to look wonderful in the suit I’ve picked out for you,” Gwen continued. “Better than Arthur, even.”

Merlin doubted that. Miserably, he allowed himself to be guided back to Gwen’s flat.

---

Gwen, Merlin had to admit, had good taste.

She’d worked for Morgana, the country’s undisputed queen of fashion, for many years so it was hardly surprising. Still, even Merlin had to admit that the dark blue suit she’d procured for him looked quite good. It was nothing, however, compared with the completely beautiful dress that she herself was wearing.

“We look fabulous!” Gwen declared, taking a couple of selfies before they left her flat. “Honestly, nobody can compare!”

“Arthur’s very lucky,” Merlin agreed sadly.

“Yes!” Gwen beamed at him. “Happiest day of Arthur’s life, I’m sure of it!”

That was unusually immodest of Gwen, Merlin thought. In fact she seemed suddenly far too excited about the whole thing.

“I thought you didn’t want to marry him?” Merlin queried.

“I don’t!”

“But you want to be Queen,” he supposed.

“I’d be a brilliant queen!”

There was no denying that one.

By the time they got back to the ball, the queue had diminished substantially. There were perhaps only about forty or fifty people ahead of them and they were at the front in no time.

“So exciting!” Gwen smiled as she stepped in front of Gaius and held up her hand for inspection.

“You look lovely, my dear,” Gaius told her. “Enjoy your evening. Pass,” he added to the two guards barring the way.

They stepped back to let her through.

Merlin wondered if there was time to run away. Gwen was standing in the foyer just beyond the guards, watching him expectantly. But it was too late. Gaius had turned to see who was next in line.

“Merlin.” There was the eyebrow, raised in surprise rather than the disapproval that Merlin was used to.

“Um… yes. I just came to escort Gwen...”

“Hand,” Gaius instructed.

“What?”

“I need to inspect your hand. I assume you’re here because you have a soulmark? I did wonder the other day. Those gloves were a clumsy disguise, Merlin.”

Reluctantly Merlin raised his hand.

“Hmm. Even stronger than Gwen’s. Very good. In you go,” Gaius waved him along. “Pass,” he added to the guards.

“Aw cheer up,” Gwen urged him as he returned to her side. “Look, we get free food and drink!”

Merlin wasn’t convinced. “We have to be introduced to Arthur and Morgana,” he pointed out.

“Yes! You join that queue there,” she pointed to a short line of male suitors queuing on the left hand side of the foyer. “I’m on this side. I’ll see you in there!”

It was a very short line. There were perhaps two people in front of Merlin, and he reached the front in no time whereas Gwen was in for a long wait by the looks of things.

“Merlin!” Morgana was smiling far too widely at him, greeting him with a kiss on either cheek. “Don’t you scrub up well?”

“Gwen found my suit.”

“Wonderful!” Morgana turned to look at someone behind her. To his horror, Merlin found it was the King. “Look, Father. It’s Merlin! Arthur’s personal assistant! He has a soulmark. We’re already friends. Isn’t that just perfect?”

Merlin saw the recognition set in.

“Arthur’s… servant!” Uther’s nostrils flared and there was that blood vessel twitching in his forehead again.

“Yes!” Morgana exclaimed, far too brightly. “Perfect!”

“Perfect,” Uther repeated, in a tone that indicated very much the opposite.

“I’ve always liked Merlin. Merlin, shall we have the first dance?” Morgana didn’t wait for a response and whisked him off.

“I’m not very good at dancing,” Merlin attempted, though to be honest he would have gladly walked on burning coals rather than stay another moment under the King’s furious gaze.

“Oh don’t worry, nobody will be watching.”

And that was a huge lie because almost everyone in the gigantic ballroom turned to see who Princess Morgana had chosen as her first dance partner. Merlin couldn’t see Arthur, who was no doubt still greeting his way through his long line of suitors, but he could imagine what Arthur would have had to say about it. No, actually he couldn’t because there was no point in their previous interactions that would ever have allowed for the eventuality of Merlin courting Arthur’s sister.

“Try to look as if you’re enjoying yourself,” Morgana instructed. “I’m a catch, you know?”

Merlin attempted a smile.

“Oh God, you look as if you’re about to be executed,” Morgana told him.

“I might be! Your dad isn’t very happy!”

“Serves him right! Oh, Arthur’s noticed us. Poor dear looks as if he’s sucked on a lemon!”

Merlin turned to look but Morgana steered him round. “Oh no, eyes on me! Very rude to look away from your dance partner. Did Hunith teach you no manners?”

Merlin vaguely recalled something about the ball being televised live. His mother was probably sitting at home in front of the TV. She liked to watch anything involving Arthur just in case her darling son turned up in the background. He didn’t even want to contemplate what she might be thinking, seeing him there as one of the suitors, dancing with the princess. She was either bursting with pride and excitement, or reaching for the gin. Possibly both.

“Gwen’s coming in, he can dance with her. She looks beautiful.”

“Yes she does. And far too good for Arthur.”

The song was coming to an end. Merlin wasn’t even sure which one it had been. He knew he’d probably been all over the place, no rhythm or anything. On what was probably international TV. His mother was going to disown him.

“Morgana.” The King was right there in front of them as soon as the song ended. “Time to change partners, you don’t want to show any favouritism at this stage. You know Prince Cenred of Essetir.”

A tall man with long black hair and a clear fondness for leather clothing stood beside the King. He was sporting what looked like a soulmark on his finger, but Merlin could feel the waves of glamour magic coming off of it. Definitely a fake.

“Glamour,” he mouthed to Morgana, who said nothing but gave the briefest of nods.

“Cenred, what a surprise,” Morgana said pleasantly.

Cenred’s smug smile slipped a little. “You met me at the door a few minutes ago.”

“So I did. Lovely to catch up. Father, I’m a little thirsty after all this dancing so I’m going to get a drink with Merlin. Why don’t you two have a dance while I’m gone?”

Morgana moved even faster than Gwen, Merlin thought as she grabbed his arm and marched him off to the bar.

“Ugh, Cenred is such a creep!” Morgana exclaimed. “Why couldn’t Gaius see that his mark is a glamour? He shouldn’t be in here.”

“I heard there were some of your suitors who your father liked so much that Gaius wasn’t allowed to exclude them,” Merlin replied. “Prince Cenred would probably have got in even if he’d just put a red sharpie mark on his finger.”

“I know,” Morgana waved a hand at the barman, who hurried over to them. “G and T please. What do you want, Merlin?”

“Beer?” he asked. It didn’t look as if they were set up for draught, and sure enough the barman poured a bottle of expensive craft beer into a glass for him. It was far too posh an occasion for drinking from the bottle, he supposed.

Morgana had been followed out by numerous suitors. Merlin thought that if looks could kill, then he would probably already be dead.

“Where is my stupid brother?” Morgana muttered as the boldest of the suitors stepped up and requested a dance.

“I think he’s still greeting the guests,” one of the hopeful men in front of her replied.

“Only a few left,” another one confirmed.

“Who’s interested in him, though,” a third declared, “when we have the most beautiful jewel in the Camelot crown right here in front of us.”

Morgana grimaced and took a large swig of her drink. Merlin could see Uther coming through the crowd, everyone stepping back the moment they realised it was the King.

Uther was with Cenred again, and also Lord Agravaine. Agravaine was Arthur’s uncle on his mother’s side, a smarmy-faced man who was closer to Uther’s age than Morgana’s. And yet as he got closer Merlin could see Agravaine was also sporting a soulmark.

“Morgana, you shouldn’t be hiding yourself out here,” Uther told her. “You’ve danced with this… servant, now it’s time to move on and choose your next partner. Prince Cenred and Lord Agravaine would both be excellent choices.”

Agravaine seemed to take that as a cue. He stepped forward and gave Morgana a little bow, his eyes never leaving her face. “My dear, may I have the honour of this dance?”

Merlin began to realise that far from being the worst of Morgana’s prospective mates, he was probably her preferred choice at that moment in time. At least, if the alternative was going to be Cenred or Agravaine. Perhaps she wouldn’t kill him post-failed-mating after all?

“You’re Arthur’s uncle,” Morgana pointed out. She didn’t actually say ‘Eww’ but Merlin could hear it in her tone.

Agravaine clearly couldn’t. His smile grew even smarmier (Merlin guessed that pleasant was what he was aiming for and failing).

“Yes, and I hope my dear nephew is very happy with his bride. But she won’t compare to you my dear.”

Agravaine’s mark did appear genuine, although Merlin was quite sure it couldn’t be. Most likely he was able to afford and appreciated the value of an efficient sorcerer.

“One dance with each of you,” Morgana allowed. “One minute each. If you have a genuine soulmark and not just a glamour.”

Agravaine looked affronted at the suggestion. “A glamour? Are people here with glamours? Uther, surely your people have filtered them out?”

“Whatever are you talking about?” Uther asked.

“Cenred here for example,” Morgana jabbed a finger towards the long-haired prince. “Definitely a fake.”

Merlin thought she looked far too happy letting Uther know about that one.

“Now hang on a minute,” Cenred protested. “I’ve got a mark, I can see it!” he held up his hand. “Everyone can see it, right?”

There were nods of agreement from the crowd.

“Can you see it, Father?” Morgana asked innocently.

“Of course!”

“You can’t see the one on my hand though, can you? Non-magic users aren’t supposed to be able to see soulmarks until the moment they’re bound by one. Cenred’s is fake. Any that you can see are going to be fakes.”

“Disgraceful,” Agravaine commented.

“I can see quite a few others,” Morgana continued. “Merlin, can you…”

“Hah! I knew the servant would be fake!” Uther brightened up immediately.

“No, Merlin’s is genuine. In fact, compared to Merlin’s soulmark the rest all fade into insignificance. His is the strongest. And as a fellow magic user I was going to ask him to back up what I was saying. Anyway, you, you and you,” she pointed at three of the nearest suitors, “all glamours.”

“Your man should have spotted this,” Agravaine complained. He was growing more confident by the moment, Merlin could see. Having not been called out by Morgana as a fake he was trying to cement his position.

“Gaius may have said something,” Uther admitted reluctantly.

“But you wanted Cenred included so you ordered him to ignore glamours,” Morgana deduced.

“Better Cenred than this servant!” Uther replied, looking down his nose as if Merlin were a bad smell.

“That servant might turn out to be your son-in-law,” Morgana replied, smiling sweetly over at Merlin.

Merlin tried not to let the thrill of horror he felt show in his expression. Uther had less restraint.

“Over my dead body! Lord have mercy, there’s another one!”

Gwen and Arthur had appeared at the back of the room. All heads turned to look as Arthur made a path for them through the crowd.

“Another genuine one, yes,” Morgana agreed as the pair approached. “Gwen, darling, I know you can’t see it but that’s a beautifully strong soulmark. Isn’t it, Merlin?”

Of course it was, Merlin knew. Gwen was destined for Arthur, no matter what she might claim.

“Yes,” he replied, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.

“Clearly there has been some trickery afoot,” Agravaine announced. Which was a bit much considering that he was almost certainly a fake himself. “Uther, your heirs won’t marry commoners.”

“I’d love to marry a kind and beautiful soul,” Morgana told him. “I think the people of Camelot would prefer that as well.” She looked around at the people still gathered around them. “Come along then, hands up, let’s check those soulmarks. Girls too,” she added, as quite a few of Arthur’s suitors had started to filter in.

The males in the crowd had decidedly thinned out since Morgana’s announcement about the glamours, Merlin realised. Probably taking advantage of the free food elsewhere before they got kicked out. It was what anyone with sense would do. And some of the women were turning around too as they got wind of what Morgana was about to do.

“I must protest in the strongest manner,” Cenred began, but Uther waved him aside.

“I’ll be speaking to your father about this, Cenred. Most disappointing.”

“But you said…”

“Silence! All those with a genuine claim, line up in the ballroom. The rest of you,” he gave Cenred a pointed look and the prince withered a little under his gaze, “are very welcome to remain for food and dancing but please do not further impede proceedings. Come along!”

The bar area cleared somewhat as Uther left, although many people remained and started to queue for drinks. Merlin glanced nervously at Morgana, but she was far more interested in talking to Gwen.

“I’ll see you in a minute. Just getting rid of some more of these charlatans. Poor Gaius, I’ll ask him to help me. You’re clear about what you need to do, yes?”

Gwen smiled happily. “Oh yes. But I don’t think the King is going to be very happy.”

“No,” Morgana agreed, her smile even wider than Gwen’s. “But that serves him right. Arthur, dear,” she turned to her brother, “do look after Gwen and Merlin for me. I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Morgana!” Uther called.

“Coming, Father,” Morgana replied.

Merlin didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard her so willing to be compliant.

“I do hope I can work out how that creep Agravaine has a soulmark,” she whispered to them. “Surely you need a soul in the first place?”

Gwen laughed. Arthur gave a sort of confused half-smile, clearly unsure what on earth his sister was talking about.

Merlin didn’t feel like laughing. Morgana swept out of the bar, a vision in green. Wonderful as she was, he still didn’t want to marry her. He could hear her ordering everyone about out on the dance floor.

She would probably be offended to know it but she was quite like her brother, really. Talking of whom…

“What are you doing here, Merlin?” Arthur asked.

Merlin realised he had missed the first part of the conversation with Uther.

“Umm…”

“Helping Gaius, I suppose,” Arthur decided, without waiting for him to answer. “Anyway, come on, we’re escaping while Morgana has everyone’s attention.”

Merlin put his beer down on the bar and hurried after Arthur and Gwen. He knew people were watching them go. If Arthur seriously thought that they were actually going to make an escape then he was even dozier than Merlin sometimes thought.

“Your father will only send people after us,” Merlin warned, as they headed out through a side door.

“Let him. This is a stupid idea.”

“Morgana is going to kill us for abandoning her like this,” Gwen worried.

“My sister can look after herself,” Arthur told them confidently. “I’m staying in here for the duration.”

They were in what appeared to be some sort of storeroom with tables and chairs stacked up on one side. Merlin assumed they’d all been cleared out to make way for the ball.

“Do you know how many women I’ve just had to meet and greet? Hundreds! And I didn’t feel any spark of attraction to any of them!”

Gwen coughed pointedly.

“Obviously with the exception of the lovely Gwen, who is a dear friend and the best of women,” Arthur added quickly.

“It’s okay,” Gwen reassured him. “I don’t fancy you either.”

“But you’ll marry me?”

“Tempting, given such a romantic proposal but no.”

“Gwen!” Arthur wailed.

Merlin would have married him in a heartbeat. He was starting to long for the crowded room full of fakers. He wished he hadn’t left his beer behind. Or that he’d asked for something stronger and hung onto that.

“Oh, for goodness sake!” Gwen exclaimed. “Kiss me!”

Arthur gaped at her as if she had grown a second head. “What?”

“Just do it,” she ordered.

Arthur continued to just stand there with his mouth open. “I don’t think…”

“Yes, so Merlin keeps telling me. Oh, come here! Sorry about this but you’ll thank me later.” Gwen leaned forward, pulled Arthur towards her and landed a smacking kiss on his lips.

Arthur looked stunned and outraged, but Gwen had already pulled away to examine her hand, no interest in Arthur’s spluttering protests at all.

“Nope, I still can’t see anything!” she declared, waving her hand in the air happily.

There was no magical bonding taking place. Nothing, in fact, was happening. Merlin could hardly believe his eyes.

It wasn’t Gwen.

“You can’t just go around kissing me!” Arthur protested weakly.

Merlin shook his head despairingly. Sometimes, even though he was brighter than his father, Arthur could be a bit slow on the uptake.

“Gwen means that if she can’t see the red thread after kissing you then she isn’t your soulmate,” Merlin explained. “It would be binding you both right now. We’d all be able to see it. Half the palace would be able to see it!”

“She has to be! It can’t be one of that lot out there! You can see the… magic red whatever on her finger… can’t you?”

“Yes,” Merlin admitted. “But I still can’t see it bound to yours. That wasn’t true love’s kiss.”

“The spell was cast on Morgana as well as yourself,” Gwen explained, a smile playing around her lips. “And no offence but I like her a lot better than I like you, Arthur. I love her. It’s almost certainly her that I’m bound to, that’s why she’s come back. She and I hope it’s me, anyway. Although how we’re going to explain this to your father… You heard what he said about commoners!”

“You could just go out there and grab her and kiss her,” Arthur grumbled. “You seem to be good at doing that. Anyway, if you’re not my soulmate then that means I still have to kiss all those charlatans out there until I find the right one. You might be spared, but it’s not good news for me. Oh God, if it’s including men as well… please don’t let it be Agravaine.”

“Maybe it will be! Your father will be so pleased!” Gwen told him mischievously.

“Kill me now.”

“It’s probably not Lord Agravaine,” Her smile had widened, unable to hide how pleased she was at the turn of events. “Kiss Merlin.”

“What?” There was immediately a distinct flush spreading across Arthur’s face. “I’m not doing that! Besides, Merlin doesn’t have a red mark thing.”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t be in here if he didn’t.”

“He said he’d just sneaked in to help Gaius.”

“No, you said that. Tell him, Merlin.”

Merlin ducked his head, embarrassed. “I thought it was Morgana,” he admitted sheepishly.

“What?” Arthur looked between them both confusedly. “You thought what was Morgana?”

Merlin held up his hand to display the red thread although neither Gwen nor Arthur could see it. “I have a soulmark too.”

“You?”

“Yes.”

“You have a soulmark and you didn’t say anything?”

“Umm…”

“How long?” Arthur growled. “How long have you known and not thought to tell me?”

“I thought it was Morgana,” Merlin repeated. “I don’t want to marry Morgana. She’s scary.”

Arthur pursed his lips together, his brows knitted briefly in thought. “For someone who’s always claiming to be so smart, you’ve been remarkably foolish.”

“Oh you haven’t heard the best of it,” Gwen told him. “He was convinced Morgana was going to mate with him and then murder him like some black widow spider!”

Arthur nodded slowly, considering that. “I can see his point.”

“That’s my probable wife you’re talking about,” Gwen warned. “Anyway, stop stalling. Kiss.”

“Gwen…” Merlin began to protest, but the words died on his lips when he saw how Arthur was gazing at him, soft and vulnerable.

“Would that be okay?” Arthur asked him gently. “If I kissed you?”

Merlin nodded mutely, eyes wide.

Gwen had clasped her hands together with a squeal of delight, but Merlin barely noticed. All his attention was on Arthur. Arthur, who suddenly seemed nervous.

Merlin wasn’t sure he had ever seen Arthur nervous before.

“Oh my God, please let it be you,” Arthur whispered, and before Merlin had a chance to process that and all that it meant, Arthur had leaned in to press his lips against Merlin’s, one hand curling around Merlin’s neck to draw him closer in.

For a moment Merlin let himself be kissed, stunned. But that was only the briefest of moments and then he was eagerly kissing Arthur back, hungry, urgent. And then the soulbond exploded into life.

It was amazing.

It felt as if every fibre of Merlin’s body had been sleeping and was only now coming to life. His whole body was alight, blindingly so. Arthur’s too.

“Oh…” he heard Arthur say. Or perhaps he didn’t say it. Perhaps it was in Merlin’s head because he wasn’t just aware of his own body, he was aware of Arthur’s too, as if Arthur was an extension of his own being.

Vaguely he was aware of Gwen’s voice somewhere in the background, saying something about it all being so beautiful. There were other voices too, but they didn’t matter. All that mattered was Arthur.

Arthur, who had broken away to gaze at Merlin, his eyes filled with love and wonder.

“It’s you.”

“Yes.”

Arthur leaned in to kiss him again, the magic from the newly created soulbond still swirling around them, though it was starting to settle down a little. The initial flare had been almost overwhelming.

“I could keep kissing you forever,” Arthur murmured when they broke apart again. He was holding Merlin against him and made no move to let him go.

“Fine by me,” Merlin told him, and captured Arthur’s lips with his own.

Perhaps they would have stayed there forever in a blissful bubble of happiness, but the spectacle of the bonding had drawn an audience.

“Arthur!”

The King’s angry voice finally registered. Belatedly Merlin realised that was the sound he’d been hearing. Almost as one, Merlin and Arthur turned to look at Uther. Arthur kept an arm possessively around Merlin’s waist.

“What have you done? You stupid boy!”

Arthur didn’t often stand up to his father. Merlin had learned that he liked to pick his battles. This, clearly, was one.

“I’m kissing my soulmate, Father. And I have to say this was an excellent idea of yours. Thank you. Merlin is just perfect for me. I couldn’t be happier.”

Uther was clearly livid. There were veins sticking out in his neck. Merlin wondered whether perhaps Arthur was going to become king sooner than expected.

“It’s a man!” Uther exclaimed. “You can’t have a man as a partner! What about children? What about heirs? The throne!”

“Father, I’m a gay man. You know that,” Arthur said quite calmly. “Obviously my soulmate was going to be another man.”

There was a murmur around the room from the other people who had come in on hearing that. Uther glared at them and they fell silent again. It wasn’t a large room, not that many had made it in.

“Your father didn’t think this through,” Merlin commented.

“You don’t say.”

“Silence!” Uther ordered, pointing at Merlin. “You have no right to speak in front of your King!”

Merlin mimed zipping his lips closed, making Arthur laugh. It was heady, the realisation that there was nothing that Uther could ever do to part them now.

“You’re going to have to get used to it, Father,” Arthur warned. “Merlin usually has a lot to say. Anyway, how’s Morgana getting along? Has she found her soulmate yet?”

Uther’s eyes widened for a moment, then he turned on his heel and strode out of the storeroom, heading for the ballroom.

“Morgana!” they heard him call.

“That was mean,” Merlin commented.

“Yes,” Arthur agreed. He looked across at Gwen who was almost hugging herself with delight. She seemed to take it as a cue and rushed up to hug them both.

“I’m so happy for you!” she exclaimed.

“Obviously Arthur’s devastated that it’s not Lord Agravaine,” Merlin told her.

“Don’t even think about him,” Arthur warned.

“No, don’t,” Gwen agreed. “Oh, Morgana.” She ducked her head, suddenly seeming a little shy.

Morgana had slipped quietly into the room, somehow managing to miss Uther who was still out in the ballroom shouting for her.

“Gwen,” Morgana hurried over, the pair of them meeting halfway. “Good job on my stupid brother. Poor Merlin, though.” She took Gwen’s hands in hers.

“I think Merlin’s happy enough,” Gwen told her.

“Good. And you? Are you happy?”

Gwen nodded, smiling. “I hope so,” she replied.

Morgana kissed her.

Seeing the spell work as a spectator was quite different from experiencing it for oneself, Merlin realised. He didn’t know how much Arthur could see as a non-magic user but it looked to Merlin as if the soulmarks grew to engulf both Morgana and Gwen, swirling around them for a few moments, twisting together and then finally appearing to dissolve into their skin. It felt like a huge magical firework display.

“No!”

Uther had returned, too late. Not that he could have stopped Morgana.

Gaius was with him, although he didn’t look displeased at the scene before him. He did favour Merlin with a raised eyebrow. Merlin just grinned back, too happy to hide it.

“Gaius,” Uther exclaimed. “Do something! My heirs can’t marry servants. Partners of the same sex! What about the future of the monarchy? This is ridiculous nonsense!”

“There’s always surrogacy, Sire,” Gaius reassured him. “I wouldn’t be too worried.”

“But it’s wrong! There must be a mistake!”

Merlin supposed that he was no doubt disappointed that both Merlin and Gwen couldn’t be executed to break the bond. Another benefit of existing in the twenty-first century.

Gaius gave a heavy sigh. “Let Arthur and Morgana be happy. Merlin and Gwen are kind-hearted, honest people. You could do far worse for a son and daughter-in-law.”

Uther glowered at him.

“Well,” Gaius added when Uther’s silence became almost deafening, “I did warn you that this wasn’t a good idea.”

Uther said nothing.

He didn’t need to. His expression said it all.

---