Merlin's ears were ringing as he exited the council hall, Arthur's condition in front of him not seeming any better.
His red cloak fluttered as he walked down the corridor just outside the hall, stopping just short of Merlin's shins as he followed him. The late afternoon sun was glinting off his armour that Merlin had painstakingly polished the day before, and would undoubtedly be forced to do again. Arthur always told him to do that whenever he was annoyed, or angry, both of which were applicable in this case.
"I can't believe it!" The blond king yelled just as the duo entered his chambers, the door shutting behind them. He ripped off his cloak and threw it in the direction of a chair, which it missed and instead landed on the floor. Merlin cringed as he saw that, mentally adding another chore to his ever growing list. Get it to the laundresses, but after checking if it needed to be mended.
"Are you honestly surprised?" Merlin muttered as he moved to pick the cloak up and inspect it for any rips in the fabric. "The council has been doing nothing but provoking you since your coronation. Especially because they didn't like that you lifted the magic ban." The words weren't meant to be heard, so of course Arthur heard it. Merlin braced himself for the reprimand that was surely coming, but no harsh words came. He turned around, only to be greeted with the frankly odd and disturbing scene of Arthur looking forlornly out of the window, which was cracked open to a view of the courtyard.
"Arthur," Merlin asked tentatively, placing the cloak down on the chair and moving towards him, unsure if it would be welcome. Arthur had been dreadfully moody and easy to anger for the past few months, since the mantle of King was placed on his shoulders that made Merlin tend to avoid him. "Are you okay?" It was a stupid question, but Merlin didn't what else to say.
Arthur laughed, but it was dark, humourless. "The Council is asking me to marry." He turned around and fixed Merlin with his blue eyes, sadness swirling in them. Merlin's heart ached to see him like that. "How can I be okay?" Arthur's eyes bored into his own, and Merlin thought it was another one of their moments, where something in Arthur's eyes made him think if the King reciprocated the feelings that Merlin felt coursing through him every moment of the day, synonymous with his magic, but not quite so. But then, like all other times, Arthur looked away, leaving the sorcerer bereft and wondering if whatever happened really did or not.
"I'm sure Gwen will understand," Merlin said softly, for the lack of anything better to say. Arthur fixed him with an indecipherable look, before turning away and picking up a pear from the basket on the table and biting into it, giving only a noncommittal hum as an answer.
"Think of the bright side," Merlin said cheerfully even though he felt anything but. He picked up the cloak and started to fold it. "It's going to be the first Royal Ball Camelot's seen in ages."
Arthur frowned at him. "How am I going to enjoy it if I would be on the lookout for a potential bride?"
"Or groom," Merlin muttered, this time low enough so Arthur didn't hear. He kept the folded cloak back on the seat of the chair, and moved to help him out of his armour. "Don't be so negative. Maybe you'll enjoy it."
Arthur fixed him with what was supposed to be his 'are you serious' look, but over his shoulder, the effect was a little marred. Merlin deftly undid the straps, his fingers automatically doing the actions he had done so many times before. "Yeah, right. I'll enjoy it when the women kill me." Arthur muttered, his lips quirking up in a small smile. Merlin let out a huff of breath, somewhere between a scoff and a genuine laugh, and dropped the breastplate on the bed, where it joined his vambrace and couter. With the last of the armour now safely off Arthur's body, he stepped back. The blond rolled his shoulders, and sunk down on the mattress, making sure to avoid the armor that was strewn all around.
Merlin started on clearing it away, picking the pieces and depositing them on the wooden surface of the table. Strictly speaking, he wasn't supposed to keep them there, but Arthur didn't complain, so he continued doing it.
"I'm sorry," Merlin said, a few minutes later, breaking the comfortable silence that had come between them. "I know that you were looking forward to the Ball."
"I'm sorry too," He said, his eyes trained on the green skin of the pear in his hands. When no other words came, Merlin left.
It wasn't just Arthur that had been looking forward to the Ball. Merlin had too, though the demands of the councillors had dampened Arthur's spirits, and Merlin's too by association. Merlin was tempted to call them unreasonable, even though they weren't quite so, but he was feeling petty, so he did.
He slammed the door to Gaius' rooms open, and the old man hardly flinched, used to the harsh treatment to the door, and only turned the full force of his Eyebrow to the raven haired man. Merlin cringed, and mumbled an apology before shucking off his jacket and throwing it over a bench (Arthur was a bad influence) before sitting down on it himself. The winter had given away to spring earlier than usual this year, which was nothing but good for the plans for the Ball, which was to be held in the spring solstice.
"Arthur has to look for a bride at the Solstice Ball," Merlin muttered, answering Gaius' wordless question.
Gaius' eyebrow shifted further up his head, and he turned back to the vial he was holding in his hand. "I see."
"That's not fair!" Merlin burst out, throwing his hands up. "He wants to marry for love, and why can't they let him? Camelot's flourishing, there is no threat of war, and no reason for them to force him into marrying for political purposes!"
Gaius hummed noncommittally at his outburst, eyes still trained on the vial.
"I am sure they are doing this because they don't like Gwen. Well, Arthur should tell them to shove their opinions where the sun doesn't shine, she'll make a great Queen."
That made Gaius look up from the little bottle of glass in his hands and the pale green liquid within to fix Merlin with an odd look. "Gwen?"
Merlin nodded morosely, not thinking much into his mentor's tone. "They said he had to marry a week after the Ball, and that he'll have to choose a Consort then itself. But that's not fair, Gwen says they've separated on amicable terms, but that's not true. She thinks that I don't see the yearning looks he throws. They just need a little time. She'll come back. You'll see."
Gaius' eyebrow started ascending up his forehead again as he regarded his nephew with disbelief, but chose to say nothing. If Merlin's thickheadedness made him think that Arthur's yearning looks were for Gwen, then anything Gaius could say to the contrary would be rendered null by his stubbornness. Sighing, he kept the glass vial back on the table, moving to stir the stew he had placed on the burning hearth to cook. Merlin continued lamenting about the sorry state of affairs, though it was in a lower tone of voice that was barely audible.
****
The week leading up to the Spring Solstice Ball was one of the busiest Camelot had seen in ages, due to the fact that the sheer number of guests were more than the citadel had entertained in a very long time. Servants that usually never saw the light of day during their shifts were now coming out, and all the corridors were cluttered with people carrying spools of cloth, fresh produce, and anything else they might need to furnish the guest rooms that had been bare since the former Queen's death.
Merlin narrowly missed crashing into another maid carrying a basket of eggs, and jogged away with a hurried "Sorry!" over his shoulder. The maid yelled something back, but by then Merlin was too far away to hear. The Ball was going to take place the next night, and the hurry in the castle's inhabitants now had an undertone of panic in it.
Merlin skidded to a stop in front of Arthur's chambers, pausing for a moment to straighten his clothes before opening the door and stepping in. He didn't bother with knocking, Arthur was surely asleep, and wouldn't answer anyways.
Or not.
Merlin blinked at the scene in front of him, of Arthur sitting on his desk and Geoffrey, Camelot's librarian and Keeper of Records, along with the Master of Ceremonies, was standing before him, on the table in front of them spread many sheets of parchment. Both looked up at Merlin as he stepped inside, banging the wooden door shut behind him. Arthur raised a perfect eyebrow at him.
"You're awake," He commented dumbly. Arthur's eyebrow rose further up his forehead, getting a distinct Gaius look to it. Merlin's was infinitely better, though.
"Yes, Merlin." He answered, drily. "And hungry, so if it's not too much trouble for you, could you please fetch my breakfast?"
Merlin ignored him, instead fixing his eyes on the sheets of parchment that were littering the table. "What are those?"
"Letters, from the guests that were invited to the Ball." Geoffrey answered, and Merlin thought he saw Arthur pushing a piece of parchment underneath the others, a few lines of charcoal visible that might have been a sketch of a ring. But he didn't pay much attention to it, as it was attracted to a symbol in one of the letters. A symbol he knew quite well, a triskelion. He picked the parchment up, and his eyes fell on the name it was signed with.
Iseldir, Clan Leader
Blinking in surprise, Merlin read the rest of the letter.
Greetings, King Arthur,
Thank you for your invitation for the Spring Ball, we were most touched. Me and my clan would be honoured to attend.
Regards, Iseldir, Clan Leader.
"Iseldir?" Merlin asked, keeping the parchment down. "You're inviting the druids?" His tone was more than a little accusatory, and a little betrayed. He had no right to be so, he still hadn't told Arthur about his magic. But at least Arthur could have told Merlin that he was inviting the people who were irrevocably entwined with magic and whose prophecy that had been influencing Merlin's life for more than a decade.
Arthur's face took a sheepish grin. "Yes. I know it has been a considerable amount of time since I lifted the magic ban, but the relations between magic users and Camelot haven't improved. I was hoping if I invited the man who had saved my life and that of my head knight, then it would show to the magic population that I really do mean to improve the ties between us and them."
Merlin looked down at the sheet of parchment again, frowning thoughtfully. "I think that's a good idea." He said, putting it back down on the table. Arthur's face brightened considerably.
"You think so?"
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You're going to make me repeat it?"
"Of course."
"Not a chance, no need for me to make your head even bigger. Other people do a good job of it. Excuse me, I'll go and get your breakfast, your majesty." And he escaped before Arthur could finish spluttering and choke out a retort.
Throughout the day the preparations continued to happen, and when late afternoon came, he found himself in the company of Gwen. He had found out very quickly she didn't like whenever he brought up her (former) relationship with Arthur. So try as he might, she absolutely refused to listen to him when he tried to explain to her that her and Arthur were supposed to be together, even though it broke his heart to say those words. But thankfully, she seemed perfectly amicable when he wasn't trying to convince her to rekindle her relationship with Arthur.
"Did you see the ballroom?" She asked excitedly, smoothening her dress down and taking a seat beside him. They were just outside the kitchens, which were quite busy, and Merlin had taken it as an opportunity to sneak in and steal a few items to eat as lunch. Arthur had already had his, and was busy going over a few patrol reports. Merlin had snuck out from his chambers, and had an hour or so of free time.
"I can't say I have." He answered, as Gwen picked a jam一 covered piece of cake and popped it in her mouth before Merlin could protest.
"You should. I have just been there, and it looks like heaven. There are tapestries everywhere, not as many as Tilda, you know that old woman who has been here for more than fifty years, said that there used to be when Queen Ygraine was alive, but I suppose termites might have eaten though the rest, they had been in storage for a long time, and whatever isn't covered in tapestries is covered in cloth. There are also many bouquets of flowers, though most of them are going to be put tomorrow...." Merlin let her ramble on, she was clearly excited for the Ball, and used the time to finish off all the delicacies on his leaf that he was using as a plate. He threw it away and stood up, extending a hand out to Gwen.
"I think it would be better if I saw it for myself, right?" He joked, and she grinned at his words, taking his hand and standing up, before start pulling him down numerous corridors. Merlin lost track of the twists and turns when they ran down the corridor beside the courtyard, on the ground floor. Merlin saw a few men climbing the pillars and hanging cloth and flowers, but Gwen whisked him away before he could see any more.
The duo went to an area of the castle Merlin had been to only a few times, a wing on the right edge of the castle. From what he could remember, the place had been full of dust and locked doors, some rotten through so Merlin could catch a glimpse of what was inside. It had been dark, so Merlin left.
Not anymore, though. All the doors had been pulled out, leaving gaping rooms inside that had been well aired to let all smell of more than two and a half decades out. They probably would have put new doors, but they did not have the time. So, they had left the rooms open, and repurposed them for refreshments, with tables being dragged in to be laden with food and drink.
Gwen dragged him past all that, until they reached a pair of yawning double doors which were thrown wide open. Inside was a hall thrice the size of the throne room, well lightened with sunlight streaming through glass一 paned windows. Dozens of servants were scurrying around, weaving spools of cloth around poles and marquees. A dozen more were hanging off the walls, dusting off the tapestries and painting the wall wherever it was bare with murals. Massive vases of flowers decorated the corners, and he guessed that more would be placed the next day, so they stayed fresh. A wooden stage had been erected a dozen metres away from the entrance, probably for the minstrels. Another cohort of servants were busy decorating that too, draping cloth to hide the unsightly brown surface. Carved and obviously painstakingly polished wooden poles were littered throughout the room, with hollow cones on top which would probably be filled with bouquets. A few were also lined with metal, to be used as braziers.
Merlin stood at the threshold, gaping as he took all of it in. Tomorrow night, he was sure, the place would look magnificent under the yellow light of fire. Gwen grinned at him as he turned to look at her, and Merlin didn't doubt his awe was written as clear as day on his face.
"It's fantastic, isn't it?" She asked excitedly. Merlin let out an incredulous laugh.
"Fantastic? It's spectacular!"
Gwen must have liked his answer, as she then turned around to look at the scene again. "I wonder what it would be like. To be at the Ball. Not just as a servant, but as a guest. Like a Lady, who can dance with men all night, and maybe find love."
Merlin didn't quite like the last part, the one about love, because he was already in it with someone, his prat of a King. But still, he understood Gwen's yearning. To be invited as a guest was something that would never happen to him, he was a servant, but there was nothing wrong in imagining it, would it? He would be dressed in resplendent regalia, and allowed to dance with whomever he felt like, and eat as much of the food as he wanted to, instead of the scraps he pilfered from the kitchens.
His little daydream was broken by a sharp voice, and he turned around to see the Head Stewardess beckon to Gwen. She left in a hurry, and Merlin, after taking a look at the angle of the sunlight streaming in, decided that he too really should be getting back to Arthur.
Try as he must, Gwen's words from that afternoon refused to leave him. How satisfying would it be to be invited to the Ball and a guest, indeed. By the next morning, even Gaius realised something was on his mind.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, but Merlin didn't. Not really. He knew it was a silly dream. He conveyed the same to his mentor.
Gaius clearly wasn't happy, but he let it be.
Arthur, surprisingly, seemed to be in a good mood today, despite his irritation at the councillors' demand to marry the day before. Merlin gave him an odd look when he was pouring his bath, when Arthur was humming as he watched him, of all things. Training had been cancelled that day, along with all other things that were regularly scheduled, such as a council meeting. Everyone was busy preparing for the ball. Arthur had decided that he would take a tour of the venues that included the entrance and the ballroom itself. Now, it was dusk, a couple of hours before the Ball was due to start.
Merlin poured the last bucketful of water in the tub, and dipped a finger to check the temperature. When it turned out to be a little less than ideal, Merlin let his magic heat it up, making sure to turn his glowing eyes away from Arthur, who was sitting on his bed.
Merlin straightened, and turned to him, only to see him staring intently at him, his brows furrowed. "Your bath's ready."
Arthur narrowed his eyes infinitesimally at his words, before tearing his eyes away and standing up. He had already removed his clothes, and only had a thin linen cloth wrapped around his waist. Merlin tore his eyes away from his sculpted chest, and busied himself with folding the clothes he had removed (the fact that they were going to the laundry and didn't need to be folded completely escaped him). His cheeks felt warm, and he hoped that the blush wasn't visible.
He turned around to check, only to see that Arthur's back was turned to him, and he had nearly dropped his loincloth. Merlin hurriedly turned away before he was greeted with the sight of Arthur's naked arse (not that he would have minded).
Picking up the basket of laundry, he turned around to the door, and paused before leaving. "I would be back to serve you at the Ball."
Arthur was silent, doubtlessly enjoying the warm bath. Merlin stepped towards the door, and was about to open it when Arthur's voice stopped him. "Merlin?"
"Yes?"
"Take the night off."
Merlin nearly dropped his basket. "What?"
"Oh, don't be so surprised. It doesn't suit you. And yes, you heard right. Take the night off."
"But who will serve you at the Ball?" Merlin didn't turn around, but it was a close thing.
"There will be many servants around."
"But一 "
"No buts, Merlin. Take the night off. King's orders."
Merlin couldn't say anything to that, so he left. For some reason, he couldn't help but think that Arthur was planning to do something tonight.
With a start, he remembered the sketch of the ring he had seen on his desk the day before.
His heart sank.
Of course.
He was planning to propose to Gwen tonight. That was why he didn't want Merlin around. He was hurt that Arthur hadn't told him that they had rekindled their relationship, and neither had Gwen. Blinking back tears, he jogged down the corridor, knowing that he shouldn't be this upset. His two best friends were getting married, he should be happy for them, right?
He wasn't.
****
Gaius realised something was wrong the minute he entered through the door. Merlin blamed his perceptiveness, even though what was really at fault was his own imitation of a kicked puppy.
"What's wrong?" He asked, keeping the book he was reading down and pulling off his spectacles. Merlin slumped down across the table from him before answering.
"Arthur is going to propose to Gwen tonight." He muttered, trying not to burst into tears. Both of Gaius' eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
" Gwen ?" He asked, but the incredulous tone of his voice was missed by Merlin, who let out a piteous sigh and settled his head on the table, nestled in his arms. He hummed in the affirmative.
A few moments of silence passed between them, the older man trying to make sense of what he heard, and Merlin trying to do the same but with a lot more self一 pity thrown in.
"Anything I can do to help?" Gaius asked at last, tentatively. He didn't understand why Arthur would be asking Gwen to marry him, as far as he knew, his interests lay in another servant, the one sitting in front of him, to be exact. Nevertheless, he didn't like Merlin seeing so upset. Merlin hummed again, this time in the negative, when an abrupt change from melancholy to inspired led him to straighten. Gaius gave him an odd look.
"Yesterday," Merlin started slowly, as if trying the taste of his words before spilling them. "Gwen said something."
"About Arthur?"
Merlin shook his head. "No. Well yes, but it was about the Ball, so Arthur's intrinsically weaved into it, but it wasn't about him. She said about how fantastic it would be to go there as a guest, instead of a servant."
Gaius didn't particularly like the direction where his words were going, but still let Merlin continue.
"What if I do that?"
Gaius' shoulders slumped. "I don't think you need me to tell you how bad of an idea that is."
"Why not?" Merlin asked, immediately on the defensive. "I'll go disguised, no one will realise it's me."
Gaius was loath to admit it, but maybe Merlin had a point. But there were too many ways it could go wrong, so he tried again to dissuade him.
"You aren't invited, how will you produce something to prove that you were?"
Merlin waved his concern away. "I was there when Arthur was signing the invitations. I can forge one with magic, they wouldn't realise." He paused, and then continued, in a tone of voice that had an undertone of desperation. "Gaius, please let me go. I don't think I can handle Arthur proposing to Gwen tonight like this."
Feeling the last of his arguments slipping away, Gaius tried to stop him one last time. "Merlin, you do realise that you can't go as yourself, right? You're Arthur's manservant, everyone knows who you are."
"Maybe Merlin can't go," he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "But Emrys can."
****
Maybe I didn't think this plan through. Merlin thought, as he stood in the front of the cupboard that housed all his worldly possessions and stared down the three sets of frayed clothes he owned. Somehow he didn't think he would fit in at the Ball in those, and really would like a servant in front of all the nobles dressed in clothes that cost more than he would earn in ten lifetimes. He didn't particularly want to do that, so he turned to the best thing he could.
His magic.
After the magic ban had been lifted, the library had gotten many books on magic. Merlin had snuck a few out over the course of a few months, a few obscure spell books that probably won't be missed. They were only used by sorcerers hoping to learn new spells, and despite the repeal of the magic ban, Camelot didn't exactly have an abundance of those that would actually visit the Royal Library.
Merlin pulled out his stack of books from where he had hidden them under the bed, and undid the invisibility spell he had added on for an extra measure of safety. The books lay strewn on his bed, and he sighed. Finding a spell to help him out from his current predicament would take ages, the Ball may be over by the time he was done.
Sighing, he decided to start with the spells he had bookmarked. The grimoire that Gaius had given him when he had first arrived in Camelot was imprinted in his mind, and he knew that it didn't have anything useful.
He was halfway through the second book when he found it. The Ball was due to start in hardly an hour, and Merlin was getting antsy.
The book was on transfiguration spells, how to turn one thing to another, or at least give an illusion that something was something else.
The particular page was titled 'Clothing一How to change styles, colours and more." Merlin didn't know why he had marked the page, he never had any interest in clothes before. Unless they were Arthur's. Maybe it was for a prank.
Nevertheless, he was grateful. He quickly read through the page, and got to work.
His current clothes were thin and threadbare, but he imagined them to be thicker and comfortable. He closed his eyes, all senses tuned to the magic flowing out of him as he whispered the words to the spell. He imagined his brown jacket turning into a coat, lengthening and thickening. His tunic underneath turned into a high collared shirt, starched and intricately embroidered. His trousers more form fitting, the boots less ratty and climbing higher up his legs, stopping just under his knees. Making a split second decision, he also added a hood to his coat, so his face would be obscured.
He added last touches to his outfit in the form of changing colours, making them various shades of blue, black and gold. His coat became black, so did his boots, golden designs running up and down both of them. He turned his pants into ivory, and his shirt a dark blue with golden thread forming accents.
He finally opened his eyes again, turning his head downwards to look at his outfit. He barely managed to stifle a gasp.
His clothes looked much better than he had imagined in his mind. Merlin didn't have any mirrors to look at himself in, but he imagined that he looked much different than he usually did. Maybe enough to not be recognised.
Deciding to put another layer of magic over his face to ensure that, he turned back to the spellbook. He was just about to flip to the well一loved page about disguises when his eyes fell on a warning on the bottom of the page about clothes.
Beware, the spell only lasts for four hours. After the time had lasped, the clothes will revert back to their unenchanted state.
Merlin looked outside. The last vestiges of sunlight had vanished around an hour ago, so it was around eight. That meant that the spell would wear off at midnight.
Merlin frowned. That wasn't ideal, he had wanted to enjoy the whole of the Ball, however late it may have run.
Looking outside, he heard the first chimes of bells that signified the guests arriving. He frowned. He didn't know that that much time had passed.
No matter , he thought as flipped to the page he was searching for and placed a disguising spell on his face. I'll enjoy it for as long as I can.
With that thought, he left his room and Gaius' infirmary.
****
The second flaw in his plan was revealed when Merlin found himself in front of the doors that led to the ballroom and two pairs of eyes blinking at him. He had forged the invitation before leaving, but had conveniently forgotten that the announcers checking them would have a guest list with them, on which he was decidedly not on.
He had been standing there for half a minute now, panicking, while the announcers flanking the doors looked on curiously at him, their gazes now taking on a hint of suspicion.
"Your invitation, please?" The one on the left asked, for the second time. Merlin handed it over, silently thanking that he had the sense of pulling his hood over to cover his face before coming.
"Emrys," The announcer in the left said, his voice carrying no hint that he knew who he was. To him, the man in front of him was just another guest.
The announcer on the right ran a finger down the roll of parchment that contained the guest list, Merlin internally wincing as he did so. He knew for a fact that the list was arranged alphabetically, and he knew that when the announcer reached the place where the letter 'E' was, his name would not be there. He couldn't run, as then it would only confirm that he was a crasher and was not supposed to be here, leading to a manhunt over him. He had to stay, even though it probably meant he would get in more trouble later on.
He watched as the announcer frowned, going over the list again before flipping over to the end of it, in case his name had been added in the end.
It hadn't.
"Your name一 " The announcer started, looking up at him.
"Isn't there." A voice said, one that Merlin was pretty sure wasn't his. To his surprise, Iseldir stepped out of seemingly thin air, throwing a small smile Merlin's way before turning back to the duo. "I am afraid that's my fault."
The announcers were visibly confused, and regarded the middle-aged sorcerer with disguised distrust. Old habits die hard , Merlin thought
"Emrys here is a leader of the druids. He was on an errand when we sent back the responses, so he wasn't able to send back his. He believed that we had added his to the pile as well. I apologise." Iseldir answered, a reassuring smile on his face. The announcers didn't look very convinced, but nevertheless shifted away and let the duo pass.
The heat and the light of the Ball enveloped them as they stepped over the threshold, the music swirling around them in lively tones. Merlin followed Iseldir for a minute, until they were well out of sight of the announcers and in the middle of the milling crowd of guests. The scent of wine and floral perfume was all around them, and the chatter prevented any chance of being overheard. Still, Merlin leaned over to the clan leader to express his gratitude.
"Thank you," He said, moving a hand on top of his head to make sure his hood completely obscured his face. "For helping me back there. I didn't know what to do. I was just about to leave."
Iseldir grinned at him. "It's always a pleasure, Emrys. Now, if you don't mind me asking, what is someone like you doing here? At the Ball?"
Merlin shot him a sheepish smile. He wasn't sure if Iseldir could see it, but it seemed like the message went across. "I wasn't invited. And I一 " His cheeks coloured at that, and he fervently wished that the thick fabric of his hood was obscuring it. "I wanted to dance." He finished, in a decidedly lower tone of voice than before.
Iseldir's smile widened, in joy rather than malice or teasingly. He seemed genuinely happy with his words. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's natural. I suppose as a servant in the castle you hadn't received an invitation."
"As a guest, no," Merlin whispered, turning away. "But not as a servant either. Arthur told me to take the night off."
Noticing the sudden change in his mood, the older man asked kindly, "May I ask why?"
"He's going to ask Gwen to marry him today," he answered, in the same quiet tone. Even though he was turned away, he felt the confusion radiating off his interlocutor. Still, Iseldir tried to answer as comfortingly as he could.
"Do not despair, Emrys, destiny has a way around even the toughest of obstacles. Fate has woven yours and the Once and Future King's lives and destinies together, and even the strongest of magic cannot break it."
Merlin smiled sadly at Iseldir, not convinced by his words but touched nevertheless.
The sombre mood dissipated in the next moment, when Iseldir's wife, Aldreda, arrived with drinks. Their daughter, Talitha, followed two goblets of wine between her fingers. Both women were dressed like Iseldir, coarse linen dresses in earthy tunes paired with beautifully crafted jewellery in wood and leather. Both had opted to keep their cloaks on, pure black that shimmered golden in the light. Compared with other noble ladies who were visible everywhere Merlin turned, they looked simple, but they had an aura of outwardly beauty around them that had probably come from living in close harmony with nature and its magic, and one that the ladies would not be able to replicate no matter how much they tried.
Both women looked surprised at Merlin's presence, and after hurriedly curtseying (Merlin tried to stop them, but the women were stubborn), they soon sank into easy chatter. After a quarter of an hour, Talitha excused herself, and Merlin prepared himself for being bombarded with druids, for she was sure going to spread the news that he was here.
And he wasn't wrong. The next hour and a half passed in a whirlwind of earthy tones, eyes flickering gold and jovial laughter as one by one, the whole of Iseldir's clan came and conversed with him, a hint of awe in each and everyone's voices. It made him vaguely uncomfortable, but it was rendered null by the sheer joy of the children, the ones too young to understand who Emrys really was, and the ones who just didn't care.
Many times, he noticed Talitha and a few other girls out of the corner of his eye, huddled together and giggling while throwing inscrutable glances at him. It unsettled him, but he put it out of his mind when nothing out of place had happened until two hours later.
Of course, that was when everything went to hell.
Or maybe Merlin was being overdramatic.
No. It certainly did go to hell.
Merlin had kept a decent bit of distance between the dance floor and himself, lest someone asked him to dance. He knew the chances were slim, anyone who found him remotely attractive would be put off by the hood obscuring his face; he had already received more odd looks that he could count. Paired with that was the fact that he couldn't dance for the life of him, anyone would be dissuaded very soon.
So, in reality, he had no reason to stay away from the dancing. No one was going to ask him anyway. But still, he knew why he was avoiding it.
Arthur.
The King had arrived half an hour later after Merlin himself did, a cacophony of trumpets announcing his arrival. Merlin had been across the room at the time, in a conversation with one of Alreda's relatives that swung wildly between extremely riveting and horrendously boring. Merlin had stiffened up, and spent the time since resolutely avoiding him.
And that was why Merlin didn't go to the dance floor, couldn't go to the dance floor. He was here to enjoy himself for once, and watching Arthur dance with other ladies would throw him a stoop that would take the whole night to shake off. Knowing that Arthur had a golden ring in one of his pockets, knowing that his eyes would be searching for Gwen, Merlin couldn't see him like this. Couldn't make himself go through that.
But it seemed like fate had other plans.
Or rather, Talitha and her band of friends.
Try as he must, Merlin was acutely aware where Arthur was the whole night. He was talking to Iseldir when Merlin was near the stage for the minstrels, drinking from a glass of spiced and honeyed wine, and dancing when Merlin was stuck between three eldery druid women who were pinching his cheeks and cooing at him while simultaneously managing to be in awe of him.
So when Merlin was closest to him in the night, barely three people between them, the girls took the opportunity to push Merlin straight in his path.
Merlin stumbled to a stop a second later as three pairs of hands retreated from his body, Talitha winking at him before vanishing out of sight. Merlin's hand jumped up to his head, making sure that his hood was still securely hiding his face. It was.
"Are you alright?" A voice said from behind him, as a hand wrapped around his arm to steady him. Merlin whirled around only to be met face一 to一 face with the very man he had been trying to avoid.
Arthur's earnest blue eyes were wide in concern, reflecting off the light of fire from the torch erected on a pole near them. The crown resting on his head glimmered golden, accentuating the shine of his blond hair and the Pendragon red regalia that he had been outfitted in. Merlin wondered who had helped him in them, because it certainly hadn't been him.
The intricately embroidered cloak moved as Arthur shifted, prompting Merlin out of his mild shock and making him answer. "Um, yes. Sorry, I stumbled."
Arthur's lips turned up in a grin, and he pulled back his hand. Unbidden, Merlin found himself missing the touch.
"King Arthur!" A distinctly feminine voice reached the duo, and it took barely a second for Arthur's grin to turn into grimace, and another when his hand was back on Merlin. Except this time, it was grasping Merlin's.
"Dance with me," Arthur whispered, suddenly too close to Merin as he pulled him through crowds back to the dance floor. Merlin spluttered as he tried to formulate a response, perhaps ask who the hell he thought he was to order someone about like that, even though he knew the answer to that very well and wasn't quite averse to being bossed around.
However, all that flew right out of Merlin's mind as Arthur spun him around just as they reached the dance floor, grasping his left hand in his right and pulling him way too close as he started to lead.
"What's your name?" Arthur whispered, as his breath ghosted across Merlin's cheek. He suppressed a shiver.
"Aren't you supposed to be asking that before asking me to dance with you?" Merlin hissed, as he tried his best not to step on Arthur's feet while trying to keep up with the tempo of the music.
"Well, you didn't seem particularly averse to it."
"That's because you didn't give me a choice!" Merlin dimly wondered if Arthur was even aware that he was dancing with someone of the male gender, but by the way Arthur had glanced down to his chest, he probably did.
Arthur hummed noncommittally at his words, and instead of answering, pulled him into a complicated twirl that Merlin barely managed not to trip over.
Unfortunately, Arthur noticed. "You have never danced before, have you?"
"I don't have many situations that I have to dance in, so pardon me if I haven't learnt," Merlin snapped, panic steadily rising in him now that his shock at the unexpected turn of events had worn off. He watched in annoyance and mild apprehension as Arthur's grin widened further.
"You're a druid, aren't you?" He asked, either blissfully unaware that Merlin did not want to talk, or choosing to ignore his subtle signs. Knowing him, Merlin was sure it was the latter.
"Yes," Merlin answered through gritted teeth as he pulled his feet back onto the steps of the dance yet again .
"I figured it out from your outfit. It's quite well designed. May I ask why you are hiding your face with that hood?"
Merlin wondered if responding with a resounding 'you may not ' would go over well, and decided he was willing to risk it. He opened his mouth, but what came out was "I don't want to show my face."
"I noticed," Arthur said dryly. Merlin resisted the urge to smack him.
In the next second, the music died down, as other couples on the floor separated and curtseyed before moving on to find new partners. Arthur stepped away from Merlin as well, and sunk in a perfect bow before straightening up again, and Merlin tried his best to replicate it, wondering if he could handle another goblet of wine before toppling over to the wrong side of mildly tipsy. His plans were scattered and thrown down the proverbial drain as he noticed Arthur's eyes lock onto something over his shoulder, and before he knew it, his hand was again on Merlin's arm (forearm this time) and dragging him down to gods' knew where.
"I'm getting really sick of you manhandling me and dragging me around like a rag doll," Merlin felt obligated to point out, even though Arthur ignored him.
They pushed through the crowds, random people trying to stop Arthur for a talk or to introduce (foist) their daughters to (upon) him, but he dismissed them all with a few polite words. Merlin's impending panic mixed with confusion when he saw that the direction they were moving in was to the doors, and his suspicions were confirmed when Arthur pulled him through it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Talitha wink at him, and forced down the blush that had risen to his cheeks. Arthur took him down the corridor, and into another smaller one, winding around until Merlin lost count of the turns. Eventually, they climbed a flight of stairs, and emerged into a small square platform nestled between towering paraphets at the back of the castle. The full moon shone down on the ground, scattering long shadows along the stone as a sky full of stars glimmered down upon them. Arthur let go of his arm, and moved to the low wall flanking one side of the square space before perching on top of it.
Merlin floundered for a minute before settling on the wall as well, the distance of a few metres between them. Silence reigned until Arthur broke it.
"You still haven't told me your name." He said, very nearly startling Merlin into falling off the wall and breaking his neck. Merlin didn't answer under the guise of getting his breath back, but in actuality trying to wiggle out of the question without outright lying. He was already too much out of his element here, this whole situation was not a part of his plan for the night.
"It's Emrys," Merlin whispered quietly, hoping against everything that Arthur wouldn't understand the implications behind the name.
He did. If the way he whipped around his head rapidly to stare at him was any indication.
Unfortunately, that also meant that he lost his balance, and tilted dangerously towards the wrong side of the wall. The one that would kill him by making him fall nearly fifty metres down.
Heart leaping into his throat, Merlin felt his magic shake loose and quickly swirl around Arthur, righting him and placing him safely back on the wall. Judging by the dumbfounded expression, Merlin guessed that Arthur had not even noticed himself nearly dying, but certainly noticed the golden glow of magic lighting up his irises, probably visible from under the hood covering half his face.
When Arthur didn't say anything even after a minute after Merlin's last words, an unsettled feeling began creeping up his back. "Um一,"
His word(s) seemed to shake Arthur of his reverie. "Are you really him?" He asked, excitement and apprehension lacing his tone.
Merlin's heart sank. "You know who I am?" Damn it, this night was spiralling more and more out of his control each time someone opened their mouth.
Arthur nodded, before suddenly solemnising and turning back to face the open sky, his legs dangling down the wall. He pulled off his crown and cradled it in his hands, staring at it as he ran a thumb through the intricate designs that Merlin had polished so painstakingly the night before, before turning his face back to him. An indescribable sadness swirled in his cerulean irises.
"The druids told me about you," He said, and Merlin nodded, feeling too wrong-footed by the sudden change in mood to formulate a response.
"They said that we are two sides of the same coin," Arthur's eyes were back on his crown, and Merlin suddenly realised that he didn't want to meet his eyes. "And that there is a prophecy about us, you, Emrys, and Me, the Once and Future King." Merlin was surprised by his knowledge, and wondered when had the druids gotten the chance to talk to Arthur about the prophecy. His questions were pushed to the back of his mind as Arthur barrelled on. "That we are supposed to unite Albion and lead it to a Golden Age, side by side."
"What about the prophecy?" Merlin asked, as kindly as he could.
"It's just一 It implied something," Arthr sounded desperate, as he placed his crown on the wall beside and played with his fingers, still pointedly avoiding Merlin's gaze. "That you and me一That we are supposed to be together, as partners. The romantic kind."
Merlin stayed silent as his heart beat faster, wordlessly telling Arthur to continue.
"It's just一" Arthur said, letting out a huff of breath. "I don't think it's possible."
Merlin didn't believe nothing could shock him any more, but the night was full of surprises. His heart sank as he realised why. Of course. Gwen.
"What?" He asked, knowing that his voice betrayed his heartbreak but past caring.
"I'm sorry, but there is someone else that I want," Arthur sounded genuinely regretful, but it didn't help Merlin, who could practically hear his heart cracking into two. He knew that it wasn't possible, that he and Arthur weren't possible, but it still hurt to hear it in person, snuffing out the last bit of hope Merlin didn't even know he had.
But no matter. Merlin knew this was going to happen. He schooled his expression and sat straighter, trying to look composed even though inside he was anything but. He knew that Arthur knew how shaken he was by the news, but he still didn't say anything. Merlin supposed he knew what it felt like, being forced to be still even though the only thing he wanted to do was scream.
"May I ask who?" Merlin asked, hating the way his voice shook a little.
Arthur's lips quirked up a little, though Merlin guessed it was because he was remembering the woman who held his heart. But he shook his head.
"There's someone that the Council would never agree to," He whispered, his fingers sinking in one of his pockets and pulling out fisted, obscuring Merlin's view as to what was inside.
"Surely you can convince them?" Merlin asked.
Arthur sighed. "I don't care about what the Council says. I care about what they'll say. The one I want to be mine." He opened his fist, and there sat a golden ring, a band of interlocking branches and vines.
Merlin resisted the urge to shake Arthur and yell at him that Gwen would never even dream of rejecting him. But as far as Arthur knew, Emrys didn't know who he wanted, so he couldn't.
"No one would refuse to marry such a great king as yourself," Merlin said instead. Arthur shook his head.
"I don't want them to marry me because I am the King. I want them to be mine because I'm me ."
Arthur, Gwen loves you with all her heart. She will never be obligated to marry you because you're the King. Merlin wanted to say, but refrained.
"Why do you think they won't want you?"
His words seemed to agitate Arthur, as he shifted on his seat and let out a peculiar noise that sounded awfully like he was sniffling back tears.
"Because they won't. They wouldn't want me. They don't trust me. I know." Merlin watched in bewilderment as a tear slipped down Arthur's cheek, as he slipped the ring back in his pocket.
"The person I want一 They have a secret. A huge one. They don't think I know, but I do. I've been waiting for years, but they don't tell me. I don't know why, the only explanation I can figure out is that they don't trust me."
Merlin wondered if Arthur hadn't known about Lancelot after all. Because that was the only big secret about Gwen that he was aware of. But wasn't it common knowledge? That her heart would always be with the dead knight? Merlin stayed silent as Arthur tried to compose himself, stoppering the flow of tears down his cheeks as he dapped at the ones that had spilled over.
"I wanted to ask them to marry me tonight. But now I don't think that it is a good idea anymore."
Merlin's blood ran cold. No, Arthur couldn't do that. He couldn't throw away his chance of happiness with Gwen just because of Lancelot. While Merlin held nothing but fond memories and affection for his friend, he was gone. And Merlin had accepted that. He just wished Arthur could too. He opened his mouth to tell him that, damn the consequences, when the brass tune of a bell rang across the grounds and into the citadel, reaching Merlin's ears as his heart jumped into his throat.
His eyes were pulled upward, all his earlier words flying out of his mind when he realised that it was midnight. He gasped, too panicked to notice the odd look on Arthur's face as he scrambled up and stepped away from the wall.
"Pardon," Merlin stammered out, just as he turned to run away. The bell had already rung twice more, and would ring nine more times before the spell on Merlin's clothes would vanish, lying him bare for everyone to see. "I have to take my leave."
And he dashed down the stairs, not waiting for Arthur's response. As the labyrinth of corridors came into view, he enacted a tracking spell that made a golden thread of magic lead him back to Gaius' chambers. Merlin barely managed to shut the door before the last bell rang out, and his clothes melted into his usual tunic and trousers.
****
When Merlin woke up the next morning, it was a headache and Gaius' head filling his vision. Merlin blinked and raised a hand out of the covers, just a Gaius' let out an unnecessarily loud "Oh good! You're awake!" that made Merlin wince.
"What is the time?" He groaned, just as his headache increased as his drowsiness melted away. Gaius moved away from in front of him, giving the light streaming in from his open window the opportunity to stab into his eyes, and by extension, his head. By God, how much had he drunk last night?
Blinking away the spots dancing in his vision, he focused on the light streaming in from the window, freezing when he realised that the angle was higher than usual. Much higher.
Merlin cursed, hurriedly moving off the bed so he nearly toppled off it. "I'm late!"
"Very much so, my boy. Let's hope that Arthur doesn't put you in the stocks,"
Ignoring his uncle's less than comforting words, Merlin hurriedly moved around his room, pulling on his boots and his jacket, rushing down the steps outside to Gaius' infirmary and through it as well, picking up an apple on the way to serve as his breakfast.
He was halfway through the corridor leading to Arthur's chambers with his breakfast tray when the events of last night came crashing down on him. Merlin blamed his hangover for the delay.
Damn it, he'd run out on Arthur last night without any explanation. He probably believed that Emrys was a nutcase, utterly unsuitable for the prophecy and as the man he was supposed to work beside with.
Honestly, this wasn't all that different from what he believed about Merlin anyway, but he had really hoped to make a good impression on Arthur. If not as Merlin, then as Emrys.
Realising that he had stopped during his little mental spiel, Merlin forced himself to take a step, blinking away the tears that had welled up in his eyes. Well at least he would be happy with Gwen一
Merlin steps faltered again. Oh Gods, Gwen. Merlin had prepared himself for the pain yesterday, drinking much more than reasonable just to make sure that the eventual heartbreak would not break him when Arthur proposed to Gwen at the Ball. Because of course that was what he would do, right in the middle of the dance floor, in front of everyone.
But of course not, Merlin thought, as he walked forward again, balancing the tray in one hand as he used the other to wipe away the angry tears that had started streaming down his cheeks. Bloody Arthur's bloody insecurity making things difficult for me even when he doesn't know it.
Pausing outside the door to Arthur's chambers to take a deep breath, he turned the handle with his elbow and pushed the door, entering without bothering to knock. Arthur would be asleep anyway. He walked over to the desk to place the tray on it, and moved to open the curtains.
A small movement attracted Merlin's attention to Arthur's bed, where the man was sleeping cocooned in his blankets, face turned away from Merlin and only the back of his golden blond head visible.
Apprehension tickling his spine and causing magic to pool in his fingertips, Merlin quietly crept towards the bed, in case there was anything unwanted and dangerous under the red and white blankets spanning the whole of the surface of the bed (and if there wasn't, well, Merlin could just pretend he was trying to wake Athur up in his usual fashion).
In one smooth movement, he whipped away the blankets away from Arthur's body, revealing his bare toned torso and sculpted legs that were still covered in the thick pants he had worn last night. Merlin did not look at them, no matter what anyone might say. Instead his eyes were trained for anything untoward or out of place. But in the next second, he found himself airborne with someone's arms around his waist, and then being pressed into something soft and comfortable, the arms now pinning his own and a weight on his hips.
Merlin blinked in confusion, trying to make the stab that went through his head at the abrupt movement hurt a little less. He shook his head, trying to reorient himself, when he found himself face to face with a half-naked, very awake Arthur Pendragon staring down at him.
For a second, Merlin's breath hitched at how magnificent he looked, the sunlight streaming through the window shining down on his skin and highlighting his golden hair that framed his blue eyes, the ones that were staring right into his own. Merlin felt his cheeks heat up when he realised that Arthur was straddling and pinning him down on his bed, and who in hell gave prattish Kings the right to look so perfect in the morning?
Merlin did not wait for a second too long before answering his odd behavior. "You do realise that I am not here to kill you?"
Arthur tilted his head at his words, his expression carefully blank, but still betraying the mildest traces of apprehension. He still didn't move off Merlin.
He frowned. "Arthur一"
"Marry me." Arthur said, looking for all purposes like he had just asked Merlin something that he did everyday, like to polish his armour or run him a bath. But (un)fortunately, Merlin had known Arthur for the past decade, and better than himself for more than half of the time. He noticed the storm of emotions darkening Arthur's eyes, and the coiled tension in his muscles, and the clenching of his jaw.
Keeping all this in mind, Merlin opened his mouth to reply, and yelped intelligently, "What?!"
"You heard me," Arthur's voice was hoarse with sleep, making it of a deep tone that tingled down Merlin's spine. "Marry me"
"Are you okay? Did someone enchant you again—" Merlin asked, managing to wiggle an arm out of Arthur's grip to check his temperature for a fever. But before it could make contact with his skin, Merlin found it pinned back on the bed.
"I'm fine, Merlin," Arthur said irritably, jerking his head away. "Now, what do you say?"
Merlin stared at him long and hard, trying to gauge what the hell had happened to Arthur. Maybe someone had enchanted him to make Arthur think he was Gwen? But why the hell would she be in his chambers to wake him up?
"You do realise," Merlin asked slowly, "That I'm not Gwen?" It was worth a try.
Arthur frowned. "What's she got to do with this?" Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but found himself cut off.
"Merlin," Arthur said, a little desperately as he shook Merlin's shoulders. "Answer me!"
Merlin blinked up at him, all feeling any hope that this morning would make any semblance of sense die. "No!"
To Merlin's surprise, Arthur actually looked like he had taken a spear to his heart at his words, and he rolled off him with a stricken expression. He landed on the bed beside Merlin, and turned so his face was turned away from him.
Merlin's eyes traced the muscles on Arthur's back, and nearly missed the next whispered question. "Why? Why won't you?"
This morning was turning out to be too perplexing for Merlin to handle, especially with the hangover still pounding against his head. Making a hasty— and probably ill-advised— decision, Merlin decided to humour him. There was nothing really wrong with imagining that Arthur really wanted to marry him, now was there? He'll snap out of it soon enough.
"Arthur," He started, "I'm sorry, but there is something I haven't told you—" This was as good as any other time to tell Arthur about his magic, with Merlin already planning to wipe his memory when he reversed the enchantment on him.
He faltered when he saw Arthur whip back around to face him, his blue eyes narrowed and swirling with anger and something else that Merlin couldn't quite place.
"Merlin, I swear to God, if you are refusing just because of your magic then I will put in the stocks for a year."
"My what ?!" Merlin yelped, nearly toppling of the bed for the second time that hour.
Arthur levelled him with a long look. "If you tell me," he began slowly, his voice deceptively calm as his eyes narrowed further, "That you didn't know that you had magic then I am seriously going to have to reevaluate my offer to marry you."
Merlin fumed. Smug, arrogant prat, thinking that he's doing a favour by asking to marry me...
Grumbling under his breath, Merlin let loose a tendril of magic to wrap around Arthur and get a sense of the type of enchantment on him, while searching around for a retort.
"I never asked you to ask me to marry you, you prat!" He exclaimed, rolling to sit upright and then jumping off the bed, frowning at the mud stains his boots had made on the wrinkled white bed sheets.
While doing so, he very nearly missed the stricken expression that flicked across Arthur's face, looking up just as he schooled his expression back into a mask of haughtiness.
Key word, nearly.
Wide eyed, Merlin stared at him, gaping. As he watched, Arthur's mask slipped, as he turned to face away from him, his body curling in himself. It hurt Merlin's heart to see him like this.
"Arthur?" He asked tentatively, realising with a jolt as his magic reported back to him with absolutely no traces of magic on Arthur except his own.
Oh god. Arthur really wasn't enchanted.
His knees giving out at the discovery, he collapsed on the bed, his arms breaking his fall. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Arthur looking back at him, an uncharacteristic scared and concerned expression on his face.
Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Merlin looked down at the man lying on the bed, meeting his eyes with his own and letting all his defenses drop in front of him for the first time since they had met, a decade ago.
Blue eyes met blue, servant and master, black and golden, Emrys and the Once and Future King, destined to be together, to have a love that transcends all of time and space.
"Merlin," Arthur said, his voice breathless. At some point he had rolled over back onto his stomach, and propped himself up on his elbows. His muscles bunched distractedly, but Merlin's eyes stayed fixed to Arthur's.
He didn't know who started it, in the next second, he was back on the bed, Arthur weight pressing him down on the mattress again, and his lips against his own, desperate and insistent. Merlin gave as good as he got, weaving a hand in his hair and the other moving all over Arthur's back, fingertips tracing maps over the bare skin and in the mountains and crevices formed with the muscles.
Arthur's elbows were propping him up, one hand buried between his neck and the mattress, the other tracing designs on his neck and collarbones. Merlin's neckerchief had been lost at some time, leaving the frayed edges of his tunic open to the air, and Arthur was making full use of it.
Seconds extended into minutes, and one thing led to the other, until eventually both men found themselves naked and releasing the tension of a decade. Pouring love and acceptance in the other's skin, in every caress, lick and kiss, until both were sated and lay panting in the warm air of Arthur's chambers. The sun had risen much more, and was only an hour away at most from its zenith.
"Merlin?" Arthur whispered, his fingers trailing over Merlin's torso and abdomen, dipping down to his thighs before making their way back up again. Merlin hummed in answer, fighting to keep his eyes open.
"What do you say?" Arthur asked again, "About the marriage?" His voice was unsure, as if he didn't understand how Merlin could say no after all they had done.
Merlin huffed out a breathy laugh, and flipped over to capture his lips with his own, to write his answer on his skin. He was ready to repeat it, as many times as Arthur wanted to hear it.
****
"Arthur?" It was Merlin who spoke up this time, after their second, and frankly exhausting, round of lovemaking. He was fighting to stay awake, but he needed to say this.
Arthur hummed, sounding barely an inch away from sleep.
"Arthur!" Merlin repeated more insistently, as was rewarded with Arthur's blue eyes peeking out to stare at him from below hooded eyelids.
"What?"
Merlin took a deep breath in. "I suppose you know about the prophecy?" Strictly speaking, they could talk about this at some other time, like when they weren't completely burnt out and fighting to stay awake, much less speak, but Merlin refused to let this new chapter of their relationship start on lies. It had already happened once, and though it had ended better than Merlin could ever hope it could, he doubted it would happen again.
"The one the druids talk about? The one about the Once and Future King and Emrys? Yes, why?"
Merlin took a deep breath in. "Well, you see—" He faltered as he felt Arthur move away, his heart sinking a little until he realised that he had shifted to look at Merlin's eyes better. His own were wide in concern, and when he spoke, his voice was placating, comforting.
"Merlin, I know what you are going to ask about. I am the Once and Future King, which I suppose you already know, but I am never going to go with Emrys. I'm yours, wholly and thoroughly. And I have already told him that, so you don't need to worry about him coming after me."
Merlin blinked. Yesterday's incognito conversation had completely flown out his mind. He fidgeted, and swallowed before answering. "Well, you see— About that... Well. You know I'm a sorcerer. But— Not just any one. People of the Old Religion think of me as the most powerful one to ever walk the earth."
He took in a deep breath. "Arthur, I'm Emrys."
He turned face back to Arthur, watching as a myriad of expressions flicked across his face. Anger, disappointment, betrayal before settling on a contemplative expression which was accompanied with narrowed eyes.
"You mean, yesterday at the Ball—"
Merlin gave him a sheepish smile. "Yes, that was me."
Arthur's eyes narrowed further. "You little— I'm going to make you regret that." He growled, rolling over onto Merlin's body.
And he did. For many hours.