Summary: To keep Merlin safe, Arthur would break his own heart.
_______________________________________
It feels like the air has been sucked from the room. The pain in Merlin’s chest may be from suffocation, or it may be to do with the intense ache that seems to be spreading through all his vital organs like a wave of ice. He might be shaking. He can barely tell which way is up, and everything is blurred by the tears pooling in his eyes. He’s probably trembling. He’s not sure his legs can hold him up any longer, and has to stumble back to sit down on his bed.
He manages an inhale that feels like drawing blood from a stone, but it propels him enough to ask, “What?” His voice is small and barely carries.
“This, whatever it is, needs to end,” Arthur repeats, and even hearing it a second time doesn’t help Merlin to process any of the words.
Arthur seems so calm, stood a little way away with his arms crossed over his chest nonchalantly, and a placid expression on his face. There’s a little tension in his jaw, and his stance isn’t entirely casual, but he’s probably just uncomfortable about the fact that Merlin is falling apart. The tears slide down his cheeks, almost tickling, and his breath comes in short, sporadic pants that don’t carry enough air to his lungs.
“Why?” his voice is pitiful, whiny, pathetic.
Arthur scoffs, a humourless noise, with a shake of his head. “It’s how these things work, servants and royalty.” He raises a cruel eyebrow, “What, you actually thought I loved you? Don’t be ridiculous Merlin.”
Merlin has had wounds which have hurt less. He almost died once, and the pain then doesn’t even begin to compare to this. The ache digs into his lungs and his heart, his skin prickles and grows hot even as another wave of ice washes over his organs. He could drown in it; it could crush him. He doesn’t know if he wants to scream or cry or throw up. He looks up at Arthur through his tears, and aside from the tension he seems entirely nonplussed about this whole situation. Merlin’s world is falling apart at the seams and Arthur is acting as though it’s a normal Wednesday.
He opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn’t even know where to begin. A million questions flood his mind: did he do something wrong? Is he asking too much? Did they need to be more discrete? Merlin would make almost any compromise for him, Arthur need only say the words. He racks his brain desperately to find something which might explain this sudden decision, but finds nothing. Just this morning they had lazed in bed long after the sun came up, teasing one another between kisses and sweet caresses as they did most days when neither of them had duties to fulfil. This conversation feels so at odds with that, Merlin can’t comprehend the change.
He swallows, then opens his mouth again, but is silenced by the sound of Gaius calling his name, and the thud of footsteps hurrying towards the room. Arthur shifts uncomfortably, and starts a little as Gaius bursts through the door. “Merlin, Uther-” he stops upon seeing the tears streaking down Merlin’s face. He looks between Merlin and Arthur and asks, “You’ve told him?”
The calm demeanour has completely fallen now, and Arthur appears almost frantic as he looks between Merlin and Gaius. “Told me what?” Merlin asks, voice still this side of pathetic, but with a little more force behind it now. “What about Uther?”
Gaius throws a quizzical look at Arthur before turning to Merlin. “He knows about you, he’s called for your arrest.”
Suddenly the distress at Arthur’s words fades to make way for an intense panic. “What?” He’s already on his feet, fists clenched, looking around the room. “I don’t- How? I mean- What- Are you sure?”
“I tried to tell him he was wrong, but he was adamant.” Arthur explains. He turns to Merlin with a pained expression. “I’m so sorry Merlin, about all of this. I-” He shakes his head with his eyes squeezed shut, then takes a breath and opens them again. “If you pack now I can sneak you out of the city before the guards get here.”
“What? No!” Merlin frowns. “No, Camelot is my home. I don’t want to leave.”
“Merlin, if you stay, Uther will have you executed.” Gaius says, not quite gentle, but with sympathy evident in his tone. “This is the only way.”
Merlin looks desperately between the two of them, both with matching pleading expressions. Merlin tries to think of an alternative, a way to convince Uther to let him stay, or a way that he at least doesn’t have to leave. But he knows it’s futile, and that there isn’t time. They can plan once he’s out of the city, but right now the longer he stays the longer he's in danger, and the longer he puts Gaius in danger, too.
“Okay,” he says at length. “Okay.”
Arthur nods. “I’m going to go and get us both horses. Be ready as soon as you can.” With that he rushes out of the room.
Merlin gets to packing straight away, aware of Gaius’ omnipresence in the room. He has little to shove into his old satchel; a few shirts, some clean underwear, and a little food and water until he finds somewhere away from the city to set up camp and plan his next move. He quickly pens a note for Gwen, explaining, apologising, begging her not to think any differently of him. She is his best friend, and he will mourn every day he doesn’t get to spend with her. Once he’s done, he straightens up to face Gaius.
“This is just until we figure out a way for you to come back,” Gaius promises. “I won’t say goodbye.”
“Good,” Merlin says decisively. “I won’t either.” They spend a moment like that, staring across the room at each other, before Merlin inevitably breaks first and rushes into his arms. Gaius sighs and rubs his back gently as they embrace, Merlin hiding his tears in Gaius’ shoulder. “Thank you for everything.”
He pulls away and sniffs, rubbing at the tears on his cheeks though it’s inevitable Gaius will already have seen them. “If I ever had a son, I should hope he was just like you,” Gaius says, softer than Merlin has ever heard before.
Merlin presses his lips together and breathes through his nose. He nods to show he knows what Gaius is really trying to tell him, then forces a smile. “Right then, I’ll see you later.”
“You can count on it,” Gaius replies, adopting the same faux-chirpy tone as Merlin.
Merlin has to leave there and then or he knows he never will. He manages to make it through the castle and out to the courtyard without being seen, and once he reaches Arthur with the horses, neither of them waste any time in mounting them and setting off out of the city. Fortunately the guards at the gate have not yet heard of the warrant for Merlin’s arrest, so they are able to pass without trouble. They ride quickly and silently into the woods outside of Camelot, heading in the direction of the next town over. The wind dries Merlin’s tears as quickly as they fall, and focusing on the ride means he can’t think of all he is leaving behind him.
They make it to the outskirts of the town and stop. Arthur dismounts, and approaches the town a little to look it up and down. Merlin also dismounts, and rubs the remaining tears from his cheeks before Arthur can turn back around. When he does, pain is written all over his face, and he seems to be fighting back tears of his own. Merlin swallows thickly around the lump in his throat and hopes his own anguish is not so transparent.
“I am so sorry, Merlin,” Arthur says quickly. “I promise I will find a way to fix this. I don’t know how he found out, I-”
“It’s okay,” Merlin interrupts, sounding far more convincing than he feels. “We’ll figure it out.”
Arthur nods. He reaches for his belt and detaches the money pouch hanging from it. He holds it out to Merlin. “Here-”
“-I don’t want your money, Arthur-
“-Take it ,” Arthur steps forward and grabs Merlin’s wrist, sitting the pouch in his hand. “It’ll buy you a place to stay and some food.” Merlin is tempted to try and argue, but there’s a stubborn look on Arthur’s face that tells him how futile that would be. Instead he nods and closes his hand around it. As he puts it in his bag, Arthur steps forward and takes his face in his hands. “About earlier, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean it, I just thought if I could get you to leave it would keep you safe while I figured out a way for you to come home.” Merlin just nods again, slightly numb. Arthur takes a step closer, and tightens his hold on Merlin’s cheeks, “I love you,” he implores. “I need you to know that I love you.”
“I love you too,” Merlin replies, tight around the unshed tears which squeeze at his throat and pool in his eyes.
Arthur presses their lips together hard enough to bruise, and Merlin doesn’t even care. He kisses back just as frantically, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s waist to pull him closer. The tears fall before they pull away, but he doesn’t mind them. If anything, they make him press even closer, kiss even harder, linger even longer. Eventually, they have to part to breathe (though even that feels secondary) but Arthur keeps their foreheads pressed together. The points where their skin touches are the only places where Merlin doesn’t feel numb.
“I’m going to bring you home,” Arthur promises. “I’ll do it if it kills me.”
“I love you,” is Merlin’s only reply.
“I love you,” Arthur repeats, and the echo of it lingers long after Arthur has ridden away back to Camelot. The words seem to ricochet even off the walls of the inn Merlin finds in the town, a taunt and a promise, and the only thing that keeps him sane. He trusts Arthur, and he knows that once he set his mind to something he will do whatever it takes to achieve it. Still, Merlin can’t help but picture Arthur, and Gaius, and Gwen, and wonder if he has seen them all for the very last time.
By maddy_does on ao3