Since Birth

Chapter Thirteen

Uther had always been deceiving. An example such as when Arthur was in his younger years; the father was aware of his son's discrete hand with a roll delicately wrapped between nimble fingers before dinner ended. Uther watched with silent eyes along with a drip of a smirk washing over his face as Arthur treaded upstairs supposedly nonchalantly with a tense posture.

Uther was aware of many things. He didn't decide to take action to any of them until now.

It wasn't hard to spot his son in the crowd upon receiving a beating to an innocent as a greeting. He was aware of Arthur's beliefs and opinions of morality, and the grimace didn't go unnoticed as Uther tore his gaze away from his child. Nothing seemed to strike odd until a wisp of black and white eventually blurred his vision. Blue seemed to make an entrance when Uther was faced with a boy wearing an angry expression. The King was deterred with the peasant's outrage. Uther wasn't currently concentrated on the stranger's temper, though; no, he was looking at the ashen boy with a questioning gaze. About his son's age, the boy was plastered with dirt along with worn clothes to compliment the aesthetic. But underneath all of that sweat and excess, Uther detected something beyond reach of most of the men he'd met throughout his life—a certain glint in his eyes that offset the mood of a normal commoner.

Determination.

When he had demanded the foreigner to get on his knees, the King had seen the child sport a look behind him, gazing hesitantly. It wasn't until a moment passed that Uther watched the boy grind his jaw before leaning down to touch his legs to the ground.

At the time Uther had no idea it was son who had persuaded the action. He decided to keep close watch on Arthur and this 'peasant'. The same coincidence occurred later after the encounter on the street when Uther barged in his child's temporary chambers, watching as his son's stare was switched to autopilot, a list of excuses and lies tumbling from his lips in a forced, casual tone. It was hardly enough for the King to comprehend: why would Arthur protect this boy?

Following his child wasn't hard. The thought of Arthur not being able to cover his tracks well infuriated him. He had taught his son better. It wasn't until he was grateful that he took notice to a cave. After giving a silent command to his small group of knights, his feet began to lead him to his awaited destination.

The scenery wasn't an eyeful, but there was much to gaze at in consideration. Uther's eyes reduced to slits. This is where Arthur had gone? And what about the other boy?

Another question was about to tumble from his mental lips when a shout emitted from the natural home. His head whipped up. A deep voice with masculine undertones. Unsheathing his sword, Uther felt his fingers tremble. The sound had been foreign to his ears.

Someone else was there.

Someone else he would later gladly plunge a knife into.

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Arthur had done bad things. Of course he would feel guilt, but most of them would be welcomed with an apology. But this, however, couldn't be forgiven.

The two had decided to trek back to the castle to accumulate the necessities before making their travel back to Camelot for Balinor. Merlin—at the time—was spitting insults at him for stalling to collect supplies, but Arthur eventually persuaded him that they needed defense and the necessities before journeying their way to Camelot. The kingdom was a considerable amount of distance away from Eirdar; about three days worth of riding. Arthur's brows twitched. Surely he would be able to take another horse without a predicament. Biting his lip, the blond managed to stuff another shirt in his satchel. Over the amount of silence packing already filled bags, Arthur couldn't help but swipe his eyes over the other figure discreetly. The elder hadn't recognized the current posture his companion was wearing, and the thought of realization made Arthur shudder.

After a few moments staring across the room, the blond decided to speak. "We'll leave once I bid my goodbyes with the Princess."

Silence wiped over the air, releasing a thick tension with a viscosity alike to honey. Arthur could sense the emotionless mask the brunet was wearing, making the thought of the amount of lies building up a palpable experience. He knew the younger man was putting on the act just for him.

There were different ways of confronting Merlin that his mind couldn't resolve a certain action for. One part of his mind made the elder crave to stride up to the other and hit him upside the head and scold him for being quiet for this long period of time. Another area made Arthur want to gently pad his way there and hug the younger man by the hips and dip his face into brown locks, hoping for once, that everything would be alright. The last part Arthur wasn't sure about. The thought was hazed around the edges like a vignette, and it couldn't help but make Arthur grunt from frustration.

The blond barely caught the slip of the other man's mumble as he spoke his reply. "'Kay," Merlin's soft whisper eventually came, as he continued to rearrange the shuffled items into his bag. It wasn't much. Just a collection of small gifts Arthur had given him over the time they had spent together along with clothing and blankets.

Only now that the presents were removed.

Biting his tongue, the blond watched discontented as the brunet pushed aside the presents to make way for another blanket. "Surely we don't need all of those blankets," Arthur countered aloud, nodding his head to the bag in the younger man's grip. A small thought flickered in his mind: maybe Merlin was making way for warmth on purpose.

"Wait until night falls and then you'll change your mind," Merlin let his mouth remark with an insensitive expression. After letting a moment pass through Arthur's eyes to watch the brunet close the satchel and hang it over his shoulders, the younger man spoke yet once again.

"Are we set?"

Arthur grumbled incoherent words before replying. "Yes."

Readjusting the sack of blankets and clothing, Merlin gave one, swift nod before making his way to the door, unconsciously expecting Arthur to follow.

And he did. Almost.

Upon his embark, a certain, reflective object caught the elder's eye with a quick flash of light. Turning his head, Arthur spotted the dagger resting delicately ontop the side-table that accompanied his temporary bed. The blade that Arthur had given Merlin as a present. A tear streaked his eyelid. Merlin threw it away. A sign that what they had was ruined. Never to be the same.
Huffing with a glare, Arthur retrieved the weapon before following Merlin outside.

A/N: Hello everyone! I would just like to thank everyone for 1k reads! That amount is tremendous (to me) and I am so grateful for all of you!
Also, if any of you are wondering why some chapters will be delayed when posting in the future, my friend @handfulof-roses and I are planning to write a book and publish it on my account. More details will follow later if any of y'all are interested! Anyway, enough rambling, if y'all have enjoyed this chapter, please leave a vote or comment! Those always make my day! Thanks! Bye!