Chapter Text
Arthur stewed as much as a king was allowed to. Annoyingly, he had other duties to attend to than spending hours trying to figure out what was bothering Merlin and how he could fix it.
One, irritatingly enough, was another stuffy council meeting where every member and their brother was trying to throw their daughter, granddaughter, and niece at him.
No matter how often he tells them he is waiting for his soulmate and will only marry his soulmate, they refuse to listen. They talk about how bad it would be to flaunt such a vulnerable weakness out in the open. Arthur always has to hold back a laugh, as if Merlin could ever be described as “vulnerable” or “weak.”
Of course, the council was convinced the king’s soulmate must be some dainty royal woman who just hadn’t come forward yet, all except Princess Morgana. Neither Arthur nor Merlin has told her anything, but she has eyes. She let slip to her brother that if anyone should share her crown –Morgana’s words– with Arthur, Merlin would be the best fit.
She’s the only one who took his side, other than the knights, but the council gave them even less say than Morgana. If not for the princess, Arthur likely would have been forced into an arrangement with some random lady he’s met only once before.
Arthur stormed into his chambers. He knew he shouldn’t take his sour mood out on Merlin, but he needed a little release before his later duties, which reminded him. “Talk about a bad use of time.”
Merlin played with the bed drapery and wore his I’m-guilty-but-please-don’t-notice look. The king was too exhausted from his previous verbal sparing matches to figure out what his soulmate was up to now and knew the man would come to him when he was needed.
“There's a potential traitor in our midst, and I have to prepare for a knighting ceremony,” Arthur sighed as he rounded the bedpost to pick up some clothing from his bed. He remember the short period of council time that wasn’t dedicated to his love life and thought that Merlin might have some useful words for him. “Maybe it's one of the knights who wants to kill me,” he attempted to get the conversation started.
He heard his love scramble around the room momentarily and shut his cupboard.
“Maybe it's you,” Arthur laughed.
Merlin tensed against the wood in a way Arthur usually only saw when people discussed the “evils” of magic.
The king looked Merlin over, wondering where he had overstepped. “Don't look so worried, Merlin. I don't really think you want to kill me.” He walked back around the bed and headed behind the changing screen. Normally Arthur would just change out in the open and enjoy as Merlin mapped out their shared scars with his eyes and occasionally hands if they had time. However, Arthur sensed that Merlin might need the space today.
And, the king thought, perhaps a change of topic might help as well. “What do you think about Percival?” he asked through the screen while listening to Merlin’s soft puttering about the room.
“Very big,” Merlin muttered, barely loud enough for Arthur to hear.
“Does that make him a traitor?” he asked.
“Are you going to get dressed?” his manservant replied impatiently.
Arthur peaked around the corner of the divider. “Have you got somewhere to be?” he teased.
Merlin strutted towards him, saying. “Percival's family were killed by Cenred's army. He hates everything to do with Morgause.”
Arthur wasn’t expecting an actual response instead of teasing. “You're right,” he responded. Because Merlin was. He usually was. The king moved from behind the screen and went to grab a belt he had forgotten from the dresser. “And he has pledged his allegiance.” He paused, reaching the door and looked to Merlin. “I'm wrong to doubt him. I need to put it from my mind.”
Arthur gave his soulmate another once over. Their usual banter wasn’t helping Merlin’s mood. Maybe another type of teasing would help. The king slowly moved away from the wood, a hand slowly reaching for the other man’s waist. “Maybe you could–”
“You must get dressed,” Merlin clipped, staring straight through Arthur.
The king retracted his arm from the space between them and sighed. “Indeed.”
“Elyan didn't ride out with us,” Arthur chose to comment on as he swung the wardrobe door open. He noticed there appeared to be a crossbow contraption in there, but the king assumed it was a part of another assassination attempt his love recently thwarted. Maybe that’s why Merlin was agitated. Well, Arthur ignored it since it clearly had been taken care of.
“Could he be the traitor?” Arthur asked as he headed back around the changing screen. He heard more shuffling from Merlin but just figured his idiot saw a mouse that just had to be taken care of. “My father killed his father.” He reemerged from the screen, adjusting his jacket and belt. “Could you get me my ceremonial sword?”
The king heard a murmur and, “Of course.” It was probably some smart remark about getting it himself, so he waved it off.
“I find it hard to believe that Elyan would think ill of me, but… can't trust anyone.” Arthur thought aloud as he fidgeted with his belt. “In fact, I think you, Merlin, are the only person I can trust,” he sadly huffed.
The king’s chamber doors burst open as Gauis and Guinevere barrelled in. Arthur looked up in surprise. Both newcomers had shocked and horrified expressions.
“I know, I'm late,” Arthur sighed, unsure why else that would be reacting that way.
As he stepped forward, the wind got knocked out of him, and his spine rattled before he felt Merlin slam face down into the floor. Arthur gritted his teeth, baring the pain and trying not to let anything slip. True, Gauis knew about them, and Gwen had it more or less figured out, but there was a traitor in their midsts. Arthur couldn’t be too careful with his and Merlin’s safety.
With that in mind, he grabbed the sword from Merlin’s prone body, allowing himself the small comfort of squeezing his other half’s hand as the blade passed between them. Arthur glanced between the sword and Merlin, desperately wishing he could do more to comfort his soulmate, but he had a duty and appearance to keep up.
That didn’t stop Arthur from grabbing hold of the nearest wall when something walloped him along the side of his head shortly after he left his own room and silently cursed Merlin to hell and back.
…
The knighting ceremony went smoothly though Arthur couldn’t shake this feeling of danger lurking over his shoulder.
The king decided to visit his uncle afterward. Arthur had some unsettling news they had to discuss and he hoped it might help lighten his load, slightly.
Regrettably, Arthur’s talk just troubled him more. It didn’t help that part way through he felt a painful pinch in the back of his neck that sent tingling shockwaves throughout his body. The king made a retreat shortly after that.
He really needed to talk to Merlin about, well, everything that’s been happening. Yet, when he reached his room that evening, his soulmate was nowhere to be found. He asked the guards around his room if they had seen his manservant, but it appeared that nobody had seen the man since before the ceremony. Strangely, they had seen Lancelot carrying an unconscious Merlin out of his chambers with Guinevere and Gaius close behind. The king just sighed and dismissed the men.
Merlin likely stepped his foot right in whatever assassination plot was happening earlier, the idiot. Arthur slowly readied himself for bed. Merlin should have just come to him once the sorcerer discovered the problem, not taken care of it himself, especially after everything that happened to him in the woods.
Arthur rubbed his wrists. The rope burn pain had faded away sometime during the day, but the gesture soothed him. It reminded him of the pain he used to get from the hours Merlin would spend in the stocks. A small smile slipped onto his lips.
The king slipped under the covers. Guinevere’s words from earlier rang in his head and his smile grew.
Arthur would make sure Merlin knew he wasn’t alone. The golden king just had to figure out the perfect way to do it.
…
Arthur fell asleep dreaming of flowers, candlelight, dinners, matching crowns, and soft declarations in the dark.
He woke up to bright sunlight, laid out clothes, and the beginnings of a bath started.
Arthur frowned to himself. It seemed Merlin was still upset with him.
Usually, the king would be woken with soft kisses before the blankets were ripped away from him as Merlin called out some cheery greeting. Then, Arthur would pull his soulmate into the bed with him, claiming to want a few more minutes as he buried his face in Merlin’s dark mop of hair, blocking out the light. The sorcerer would keep their breakfast, Arthur has long since learned that any food that was his was really theirs, warm as the pair soak up what few moments of alone time they could before responsibility came crashing down.
Merlin only acted like a well-behaved, diligent manservant when he was mad at Arthur.
The king groaned heavily, intentionally flopping onto his grand bed. He already knew that it would be a long day.
A few moments later, Merlin trudged in carrying a few buckets of water. The servant looked up from his buckets, seeing movement from the bed. “Sire, I’ll finish your bath if you’d like to get undressed.” Merlin nodded his head toward the changing screen as he talked before continuing his work.
Still using titles and not wanting to see him naked, yeah, Arthur was screwed. He groaned internally to himself, dragging his sleep-heavy body out of the plush cover and practically stomped behind the screen.
He knew he was being extremely childish, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t figure out what upset Merlin so much. The only thing that came to mind was choosing Guinevere’s lunch over Merlin’s. But, really? That is the cause of all of this?
Yet, as the king continued to move around and wake up more, he heard Merlin puttering about just a few feet away. His heart hurt at the domesticity of it. As Arthur fiddled with the ties of his sleep shirt, his thoughts drifted to his conversation with Gwen once more. He huffed a small breath. “My father prepared me well for being king, but he told me nothing of the loneliness of the job,” tumbled from Arthur’s mouth without thought.
The only response was bathwater being poured.
Arthur tugged his shirt over his head before resuming. “What it's like to have all eyes on you, waiting for you to provide the answer.” His movements faltered. He rubbed the frayed edges of the ties to the sleep pants in his fingers. “In all the years I watched him, he never wavered in his certainty.”
Arthur heard bath salts fall into the water.
He dropped the ties, continuing to strip. “He was strong, he was sure. And I'm not in that place yet.” He stopped again though his pants fell softly to the floor. “Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever reach that place,” he whispered.
Only silence replied.
The king wasn’t quite ready to come out yet. The words fell easier with the piece of cloth between them. He ran fingers through his hair, unsure of what to do now. “I value the guidance of others. Maybe I've been foolish to do so.” He took a breath before realising how that could sound. “But not yours, Merlin. Never yours. I…”
Arthur took another steadying breath. “I feel you’re the only one I can trust anymore, and no one is allowed to know.”
He quickly removed his hands from his hair. He was on the verge of pulling it out if only that idiot would just say something . “What–” Arthur huffed, words began running from his mouth before he even knew what they were. “What if they knew? What if we told everyone? What if I made you my–” Bang!
Arthur, shocked, stumbled out from the screen and stopped talking. He slowly turned around to face the culprit. “Ow! What the hell, Merlin! What did you–Guinevere!” he yelped as he quickly covered himself with a nearby pillow.
“Arthur!” she yelled in reply. Her eyes jumped to the king in alarm until they reached the pillow, and she quickly looked away.
Arthur flushed, unsteady from the feeling that had just tumbled out and now being completely naked in front of Guinevere and, “Gaius.”
Gaius nodded in response from where he was strangely leaning against the pillar.
“You're not Merlin,” the king said as he resisted the urge to rub the back of his head.
Nervously smiling, Gwen responded, "No. There was a problem with the bath water.”
Arthur looked between the two, specifically staring at Gaius as he reply, “Really?”
Gwen nodded very hard drawing Arthur’s attention once more. “Yes. It's cold. Very cold.”
Arthur shuffled forward slightly, still being cautious of his lack of clothing, and attempted the peak into the tub.
“Merlin's gone to remedy it,” Guinevere rapidly jumped in, putting herself between him and the bath. “I don't think you can have a bath today!”
Arthur looked up at her, noting her very nervous, awkward smile, then the bath which seemed like it was bubbling, and Gaius who appeared to be losing a fight with the pillar. Clearly, they were covering for Merlin, Arthur just couldn’t figure out why no one was telling him anything. He thought they were all past that. “Right... Good job I'm not very dirty, then,” he tried to joke.
Gwen’s laughter had a tittering edge, betraying her. “It's a good job indeed!” Gaius nodded in response.
Arthur waited a moment, hoping they would leave. It seemed whatever they were covering for was in the room, so the king awkwardly slipped back behind the screen.
He heard shuffling and a muttered, “Wait–” followed by another tremendous pain to the back of his head. Arthur grunted quietly and rubbed his sore spot. Whatever Merlin and the others are hiding better be worth it, he thought.
…
Arthur put on the clothes laid out for him and began the rest of his day.
He never saw Merlin again, though he asked every person he passed if they had seen him.
Other than desperately missing his soulmate, the day was fairly normal. Though the knights’ patrol had a strange report for him. “You said there was an attack in the Darkling Woods?” the king asked his best men.
Only Leon met his eye, the rest looked around the room, fidgeting. “Yes my lord,” the first knight replied. “There was an ol–”
“Overwhelming amount of bandits,” Gwaine jumped in, cutting between Leon and Arthur.
“At least a good dozen or two,” Elyan agreed. Percival nodded, still not looking at Arthur. Lancelot was hiding in the back, biting his hand as if holding back laughter.
The king looked back at his first knight who was glaring at the rest of the bunch. “Sir Leon,” the knight’s attention turned back at his name, “is this true?”
A quiet sigh escaped the knight. “Yes, your majesty.”
Arthur looked over his knights one last time. “Alright, we’ll double security for that section for at least the next month. Make sure those bandits don’t come back. You’re dismissed.”
The knights scurried out of the room as Arthur wondered if there was something in Camelot’s water that made everyone lose their minds.
…
Arthur still couldn't find Merlin throughout the afternoon into the evening. He’s asked everyone, twice. Checked in with Gaius so much that the old physician might just smack him if the king shows his face in the infirmary again without so much as a stubbed toe.
He was pacing his chambers, thinking about doing just that when the wind got knocked out of him. He grabbed the table, huffing and wheezing.
Sadly, Arthur knew this routine by now. He slowly eased himself on to the ground and leaned against one of the table’s legs. He worked on relaxing his breathing as he settled onto the floor. He knew he’d be stuck down their for a while.
After a few moments, he felt the same pain. He now knew it meant someone had thrown Merlin, likely a magic user, against a wall or the ground. That didn’t make it hurt any less. He sat there, gasping for breath and attempting to remain calm while all of Merlin’s strange behaviour over the last few days floated around his head. It was hard to think about anything, but Merlin everytime he was in pain.
There was no pain for a frighteningly long amount of time. In Arthur’s mind, pain meant fighting and fighting meant Merlin was not being held captive by some evil doers. A candlemark or so later with no pain, Arthur assumed it was safe to move again. Now he really would storm Gauis’s workshop, injury or not.
Except he only made it as far as his door. It felt as though someone took a blunted sword to the back of his neck and set every nerve aflame before putting them out instantly. Arthur was thankful no one else was around to witness the tumble he took into the door and subsequently the floor. He did create enough noise to grab the attention of the knights stationed outside his room.
A knock sounded on the door. “Everything alright, my king?” Elyan asked.
Arthur swallowed a groan. He did not want his knights rushing into this mess. “All’s well. Just had an accident.”
“Alright.” Elyan’s footsteps carefully retreated to his post.
Arthur laid on the ground, his body and pride both aching. “Merlin, you’d better have a damn good reson for all of this,” he grumbled into the air.
Once Arthur’s body started to feel normal, he headed straight for Gaius’s chambers. Upon bursting into the room, Arthur found only the physician sitting inside.
Gaius opened his mouth, likely to tell Arthur Merlin still hadn’t arrived, when the king cut him off. “I know he’s not back Gaius, but he’ll be here soon, and I want to be here when he arrives.”
Gaius looked over Arthur. He must have found something because he just shrugged and motioned towards a spare chair. “I’ll take the company, your majesty.”
Arthur hesitantly made his way over the the seat, not expecting that to go as smoothly as it did. Pondering a moment, he turned to face the older man. “Why am I welcomed now?”
Gaius sighed, not looking up from the paper he was staring at. “My lord, I have a number of patients to attend to in a day and have very little patience for someone hovering in my space when he has other duties he could attend to.”
Arthur nodded, though the other likely didn’t see it. “Right, yes. That makes sense.” The room lapsed into silence once more.
Thankfully, Merlin came stumbling in a few moments later. Arthur immediately shot up from his seat.
“Merlin,” Arthur said sharply, keeping up the annoyed air.
“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, and Arthur melted.
Merlin rushed to his king and nearly took the both of them down with the force of his hug. Arthur immediately wrapped his arms around his love, holding on tightly. Arthur heard sniffling from the crook of his neck and his heart broke. “Oh, Merlin,” he murmured into the dark hair in front of him, “it’s alright.”
A whin that was likely words emanate from the dark mop. It was muffled by too many layers of cloth and tears.
Arthur took deep breaths, encouraging Merlin to do the same. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just breath,” he comforted.
Merlin just squeezed tighter and attempted to calm his breathing. After a few moments and the sound of Gaius shuffling away to give them privacy, Merlin slowly eased himself up but staying within the circle of the king’s arms. With a watery smile, the sorcerer croaked, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I be? I should be saying that about you, idiot.” Merlin laughed wetly. “You were the one thrown around and what paralyzed? I’m not sure what that feeling in my neck was.”
Merlin took a shuddering breath and rested his forehead back on Arthur’s shoulder. “Arthur, I’ve had a terrible week. Can we please just go to our bed, and I explain after a good, long night’s rest?”
A smile crept onto the king’s face. Merlin had never called anything they shared “theirs” before. Obviously, it was implied after a while, but this was the first time he’d ever heard it aloud. “Of course, Merlin,” he replied.
He’d work the full answer out of Merlin in the morning after they shared their breakfast in their bed. Arthur wouldn’t be happy, but he never is when he’s left out of the loop. He just soaked in his love’s presence and recharged from all the distance over the last week, knowing things would be okay. The sigil waiting in his nightstand can sit for another night.