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“I’m not tired though!”
Merlin sighed, shaking his head as he sat on the edge of the bed, “And yet, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open.”
Alfred frowned, making a pang shoot through Merlin’s heart at the familiarity of it.
He was so much like Arthur it hurt sometimes.
“I’m not tired Merlin! My eyes just need a rest!”
Even the way he said Merlin was so much like Arthur.
“If your eyes need to rest, then you’re tired.” He tucked the young prince in a little more as the child wriggled, still pouting a little.
“Can I have a story?”
“There once was a prince called Alfred, who wouldn’t go sleep… and then the Court Sorcerer put a sleeping spell on him and then he did sleep. The end.”
Alfred giggled, curling up a little as he shook his head, “That’s not a story.”
“It had a beginning, a middle and an end…. That’s a story, isn’t it?” Merlin chuckled, “Come on, you need to go to sleep, otherwise your mother will leave this job to the servants.”
“Uncle Merlin….”
Merlin sighed at the tone, feeling his shoulders sag even as he smiled.
He could never say no for very long when that tone was used.
“One story, and that’s it. Understood?”
Alfred beamed at him, nodding eagerly, “One about my Dad!”
Merlin felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. He felt his breathing hitch, swallowing down the lump in his throat that formed. It was painful, chest aching even as Alfred continued to smile, unaware of the pain that he was causing. Still, he forced himself to keep smiling.
“You hear about your Dad every day from the knights and your mother? I think you’ve heard them all by now!”
Alfred thought about it for a moment as Merlin hoped desperately, that he would drop the subject.
It had been years since Arthur’s death, and still, the pain was though it had happened mere hours before.
“I don’t know. You choose.” Alfred’s small voice broke through his thoughts.
“Well.” Merlin took in a deep breath, which sounded a little shaky, even to him, “How about... the story of when a goblin caused havoc in Camelot? Has anyone tol you that one before?”
Alfred was already giggling at the thought, unaware of Merlin’s heart breaking in his chest. He had lost his best friend and one love, Gwen had lost her husband and Alfred had lost his father before he could ever know him properly.
“A goblin? Really? They exist? Do you think I would ever meet one?!”
“You had better hope not.” Merlin chuckled, “They are not very friendly.”
He took a deep breath, and started the story.
………………………………..
It took less than twenty minutes, Merlin exaggerating his features and the voices, making Alfred laugh even as everything within Merlin wanted to cry.
When he finally wished Alfred a goodnight, he pushed away the memories of Arthur’s last moments, leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him, before making his way to the top ramparts of the castle.
It was the only place he felt truly safe.
He hated living in a world without Arthur.
But he had to keep going for Gwen and Alfred, no matter how he felt.
Closing his eyes, he let the tears finally fall, his shoulders shuddering and his breathing hitching, the sob he’d been holding in since the moment Alfred had asked about Arthur coming back into full force.
Arthur was gone, and he would do anything to bring him back
To give Gwen her husband back.
To give Alfred a father.
… To bring his love back.
But there was nothing he could do, not until the world needed Arthur again.
His shoulders shook as he cried, putting his head in his hands as the grief washed over him.
His sobbing was quiet, the anguish overwhelming him.
He knew that he wouldn’t wake up anyone all the way up here, but he still kept himself quiet. Bringing his head out of his hands, he looked up into the dark and starry sky.
Alfred reminded him so much of Arthur, so much that it hurt. The crinkle in his eyes when he laughed, the way his smile lit up his whole face…. So, so much.
He couldn’t save Arthur, but he would do anything, no matter how painful it was, to always be there for Alfred.