A.N.:// or so I hope.... I'm so tired XD
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Arthur closed his eyes and tried to ignore the tremor in his bones.
"It's not my fault.", he said finally, breathing in. Breathing out.
"Everyone could have made this mistake. Everybody could have mistaken this sword for Excalibur. They are almost identical, apart from the inscription."
He took another deep breath.
"It's Uther's fault."
He opened his eyes, staring into the gray scaled landscape in the distance.
The magic was still pulsating around him. In a way it felt like he could hear his own blood rushing through his ears. His heart beat pulsing through his fingertips.
But it was the world around him that was beating and pulsating quietly. And yet – so so loudly.
"Uther did this. Uther killed the Dragon. NO ONE else would even attempt to do such a thing!", Arthur growled, rage narrowing his eyes to a murderous frown.
'He's not my father. Not anymore. I don't care if I have to give up the crown to Morgana.
But his reign has to end. HE has to STOP!', he thought to himself.
And he wasn't surprised that even in his own mind – he couldn't call this man his father anymore.
Arthur stared ahead into the darkness.
He had replayed this conversation multiple times. And every time his rage and hatred against Uther Pendragon seemed to rise even more than last time.
A long time ago, he had considered forgiving his father for all his wrongdoings.
There was no hesitation in Arthur, as he declined his mind this offer now.
This – this was too much.
He didn't know what Uther was doing this for. But no man was worth the entire mankind. No living creature was worth the destruction of magic. The death of a loved one.
No power in this world was worth the destruction that Uther's decision's had caused.
It has been two days. Hunith had been wrong. Merlin's magic wasn't calming down.
Quite the opposite, really. The colorless world got bigger and darker.
And the small bubble of intense color got brighter and more colorful. And seemed to be shrinking in to it's center. Alias Merlin.
Hunith was long outside the barrier. She hadn't moved an inch but the grays finally washed over her and she immediately fell unconscious.
Merlin however – he was the only colorful thing in a world of utter nothingness.
Well.... not quite. Not just Merlin.
Arthur too.
And that was a strange little riddle, wasn't it? How was it that Arthur Pendragon was neither affected by the colorful nor the colorless? He was sitting here, barely outside the bubble, feeling completely normal.
How was Camelot faring? Arthur looked at his hands. Hatred making him feel nauseous.
In a fit - a man with only questions and no answers tended to rage and get frustrated – he threw away the royal seal that marked him the crown prince of Camelot. It bounced of the wall right beside the window he had been looking through.
The silver ring he'd had since he was a child. The symbol of the Pendragon's – ironically a Dragon – embedded into it. The he didn't know kept him alive.
Kept his magic levels neutral. Collected magic if he needed more to survive, or kept it even, if he already had enough.
......
All of a sudden, Arthur choked.
It was – like he forgot how to breathe. Actively forgetting how to breathe. His hand rushed to his throat in panic, his eyes widening in shock.
Try to breathe out, hold your breath and then breath in without letting air pass your lungs. It feels like a vacuum on your ribs, a strain in your throat and an electrifying sensation spreading through the back of your head the longer you hold your breath. That... just stronger is how Arthur felt.
The thing is that Arthur could not control his air ways. Instead, black dots started playing in front of his mind. He couldn't speak, could get out no tone, except a troubled screeching sound.
What feels okay for a few seconds, becomes painful and outright torturous the longer it goes on.
Until Arthur felt like life itself was leaving him. Arthur bent forwards on to his knees – about to collapse, because his brain got no oxygen. And for barely a few seconds – he knew his heart stopped beating. He knew – because the pulse that throbbed through his fingers stopped. He felt like he was going to fall into nothingness.
And then - a wave of colorful magic rushed through him. Caught him.
Arthur gasped for air – his lungs suddenly reactivating after they had shut down for merely a few moments. His eyes – blinded by these black dots– finally regaining the ability to see color in an intensity that could have caused him a seizure, but luckily didn't.
His nose noticing smells he had never smelled before in his entire life.
His ears – deafened by the silence of the town – suddenly hearing every single thing that this world still had to offer.
He could hear Merlin breathing only two meters next to him.
All his senses were suddenly overly sharp and sensitive. Every touch of the frozen snow that by now even fell inside the hut, burning on his skin – every sweat from the heat of white colorless sun that shone through the dirty window, like acid on his skin.
Arthur felt everything in such an intensity that he had to throw up. He threw up color in the grayish white of the snow.
Arthur's skin was tanned. A light tan – barely visible – but yet very noticeable for the usually pale nobleman that he was. Noticeable only, because just a moment before – when he through away the ring – they had turned just as ashen as his vision.
Now... now they were colorful. He might as well have painted them in rainbow colors.
When finally Arthur's mind and heart calmed down – he noticed that something was significantly different right now.
The magic around him seemed to be grasping for something. Someone. Him.
Arthur blinked, still breathing heavily. After all – just a few seconds ago he had been certain he was dead.
He didn't need to reach out to the magic. Not really. It had already broken down the walls that kept his own emotions in check.
Had already filled him with life and amplified his feelings.
But it was peaceful and kind and warm and welcome.
There was no malice in this feeling. Arthur had never felt this loved by anyone. Not even his father. Especially not his father.
Uther's emotions had always been something else. What it was – Arthur couldn't tell. But he knew – this magic was of a pure nature.
This was unexplainable magic.
And Arthur needed it. He felt like a starving child who just found food paradise.
A thirsting man who had somehow found the life saving oasis.
Arthur didn't have it in him to resist, so he breathed in the magic. The magic that was already filling up his senses, his heart, his mind. He let it in to his pores, absorbed it and let it heal his wounds.
Small cuts and bruises he got from carrying villagers around healed shut – like they had never been there.
And his mental rage against his father turned to acceptance and blissful ignorance.
All his confusion suddenly turned to understanding.
Arthur opened his eyes and looked at Merlin, whose eyes were miraculously open.
"Arthur?", he muttered under his breath. He probably didn't know what he was doing. Or where he was. Or how he got here. But he could feel the connection to Arthur.
Arthur laughed. He had been so stupid.
Of COURSE, Arthur was the key to this all. How had he not seen this before? It was so simple. Their relationship. So... SO simple.
He walked over, closer to the table Merlin rested on. Arthur was still wobbly on his knees, but he was alive at least.
"Arthur?", Merlin repeated, lazily opening and closing his eyes, because he couldn't bear to keep them open.
Arthur grabbed for Merlin's hand and brought it up to his lips. Gently, he pressed a kiss to Merlin's roughed fingers.
Merlin's eyes widened and with it – a wave of color rushed through Arthur and the world. And Arthur knew that outside – even if just for a moment – for one wave – magic was reviving the world.
"What are you doing?", Merlin whispered and Arthur could tell that this man was trying to reel his emotions back in.
He could feel it by the way the magic rushed back into the bubble, trying and failing to leave Arthur as well. But Merlin couldn't take the magic from Arthur.
Magic was directly linked to Merlin's emotions. Merlin's emotions WERE the magic. Emotions with POWER.
And Merlin loved Arthur.
That was not a feeling he could control. Nor was it one he could fake or deny. It was a force more terrifying than any magic Arthur had ever faced. And twice as beautiful as it was terrifying.
Arthur may be oblivious – but he literally wouldn't be alive without Merlin. He could FEEL it, could feel how it brought him to life.
And this is where I have to explain the flashback from the previous chapter.
Neither Uther nor Gaius would question it again and Arthur didn't remember because he was a baby, but you need to know why Arthur was dying when he was a child. And why exactly Uther's reaction was so horribly wrong and utterly stupid and unnecessary.
The magic Arthur needed to live was very simple, actually. Love. Just that. Just love.
If Uther had given him that – unconditional, fatherly love – not the tainted, broken, hurt version of it that came with the rage and fear of loosing his wife – Arthur would have lived. He would have never fallen ill to begin with.
With time maybe – if Uther had learned to accept his grief and moved on– Arthur would have healed slowly as well.
Arthur's health was linked to Uther's emotions. Because Uther was his father. And because Uther was the one who caused Ygraine's sacrifice. And Uther's magic were his emotions for his loved ones. Because his emotions were the only magic he possessed.
The love that kept Arthur alive was selfish, fear, anger, pain, grief, hatred. It was hunger for power and ignorance of the weak. It was pride and egoism. And that made Arthur sick.
Arthur was right. All of this – literally everything – was Uther's fault.
Rejecting him as his father – rejecting the ring – rejecting his heritage – freed him from this bond to Uther and his toxic love.
It exposed him to a much more beautiful and powerful one.
"Merlin. It's ok.", Arthur said. But he didn't really know what he said that for.
Merlin had seemed fine before all this went down.
Or maybe he didn't.
Maybe – Arthur's talk about emotions in the woods made Merlin conscious of his feelings. Maybe it made him ashamed. Maybe it made him hide them. Because that's what we all do when we're hurt and afraid – right? We deny our feelings. Maybe that's why Merlin is reeling back his magic. Because Arthur never gave him a clear answer about his feelings. And Merlin was afraid he'd be rejected by his best friend.
"You seem different.", Merlin said instead of addressing the non-question that Arthur put between them. Then he chuckled, as he watched Arthur's expression. Merlin's starved torso rose with every single laugh. Somehow it is harder to laugh on your back than it is when you sit or stand.
"What is it, prat? Finally admitting that you do like me? Because you know... you just kissed my hand. I'm not a royal lady for you to court, Sire. I'm not going to swoon at your feet."
The word 'Sire' came out as sarcasm.
But it made Arthur smile anyway.
"I know. But I admit it. I do like you."
Another wave of color hit the world and made his smile widen even further.
Merlin's half opened eyes shot up completely. His shoulder rising to his ears in shock at the confession.
Of course it was this simple to save the world. It's just how fairy tales work, isn't it?
"I must be sick.", Merlin mumbled to himself, unknowing and unaware that he had been sleeping and sweating for two days straight.
"You were. Your magic has been acting up for a few days. You knocked out a few people. You know... the usual stuff.", Arthur shook his head, knowing exactly what Merlin was going to say next.
"How many times do I have to say it, Arthur? I don't have -"
Arthur didn't care that the sweat on Merlin's face was now sticking to his own hair and his hands – he kissed him anyway.
Merlin – completely caught of guard – gasped into the kiss. But he didn't push Arthur away.
Instead – he melted into it and Arthur could hear and feel the magic bleeding out of Merlin.
Like a heartbeat it pushed magic back into the ground, melting the snow and cooling the sun.
Outside, you could hear confused people regaining consciousness. Inside, Hunith slowly woke up from her two very polarizing experiences. With full blown magic overload and complete magic abstinence.
You could see color filling the gray scales of landscape. Sounds returned, and plants began to sprout from within the hut to outside.
Arthur and Merlin however, were completely oblivious to this, as Merlin just reached up his hand to feel Arthur's face. Just to hold on to something, before he could fully respond to the kiss.
When they finally broke apart, it was merely inches that distanced them.
They didn't say anything, because honestly – their actions spoke for themselves.
For minutes there was silence. Until someone HAD to break it. Of course, it had to be Merlin.
"I still don't have magic.", Merlin finally said, very seriously staring into Arthur's eyes.
Arthur breathed in a hearty laugh. "Of course you don't.", he shook his head in utter disbelief.
Then he looked back at Merlin with a soft smile. Then into Merlin's deep blue eyes, that kept flashing golden, because he was still reviving the world.
And then Arthur's heart clenched, as he he began to grasp something. As he thought he might finally understand.
Maybe the prophecy was wrong. Maybe, Merlin never needed Arthur's help to understand magic.
Merlin had always been true to himself. Merlin always knew who he was. He never pretended to be someone he wasn't.
He denied himself knowledge about himself, yes. He denied his own power.... but the denial was just as much part of him as the power itself was.
What if, deep down... the reason why Merlin decided he didn't have magic was – because he had already given his power a different name?
What if Merlin had always known that magic was nothing but love? Love for the world around him?
Love for the people around him? His actions, his protectiveness.
For animals. Camelot, his friends. Arthur.
Or maybe that's why the prophecy said that Arthur needed to help him UNDERSTAND magic. Not make him realize that's who he was. Or learn the extends of it. Or how to control it. Or teach him how to use it.
Maybe – in truth – Arthur had begun explaining magic to Merlin the day they met.
Had shown him that love existed in different ways. Had protected him, regardless of his status. Appreciated him despite his insufferable incompetence as manservant.
Had loved him in spite of -
actually – Arthur couldn't think of anything that would ever make him not love Merlin.
Maybe Arthur had taught him that he was loved. Maybe he had taught Merlin that the people who used to bully Merlin for his gentle heart were complete idiots?
That Merlin was actually stronger and wiser because he was true to his heart?
And maybe – maybe he just needed Arthur to tell him that he was allowed to love him. Fully, and unconditionally too.
Because when Merlin understood that he was allowed to love fearlessly, that he was allowed to love ARTHUR without any restrictions – then he could love everything and everyone else as well.
Love for one person goes beyond. It makes you appreciate the world that gifted you with them. It dims out the hatred you could be feeling instead.
If Merlin collected magic, stored it, compressed it into a thin line of light, then Arthur was the sphere, the glass shard that made the light break into thousand rays of rainbow.
Together, they brought color to the world. And life. And love.
Merlin understood magic. Maybe better than anyone else did.
"Is everything okay?", Merlin asked, eyes still wide. But Arthur had been quiet for a few minutes, their distance never widening, nor them getting closer again.
Arthur shook his head, nothing but fondness in his tone when he said:
"Yeah. No. I just realized what an actual idiot you are."