FIC: Arthur's Truth
Nov. 25th, 2008 11:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stellarmeadowSurprise--it's Merlin fic! I highly recommend watching the show if you aren't already. :)
Title: Arthur's Truth
Author: stellarmeadow
Rating: PG
Spoilers: through 1.10
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Summary: The events of 1.10 through Arthur's eyes.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I just like to play with them. I'll give them back, BBC. Really.
Word Count: 4863
Notes: My first ever Merlin fic. *bites nails* I'm always so nervous posting in a new fandom. Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chelseafrew for the excellent beta!
He stood there, arms crossed, watching the normal daily routines of Camelot unfold below him as Merlin's footsteps faded quickly away. Arthur watched, unable to miss Merlin's loping gait as he hurried away, towards Gwen's, to say his goodbyes, no doubt.
Good luck. It was all Arthur had been able to say, despite the millions of things running through his head. Don't go wasn't allowed, because Merlin had every right to fight for his family, and because Camelot's need for Merlin was not as great as Merlin's mother's was.
And, prince or no prince, Arthur's needs did not matter one whit when matched against that of a mother in danger.
Still, he refused to believe that Merlin wouldn't come back, at least not of his own choosing. If he didn't come back, it would be because...well, because Arthur hadn't been there to protect him. Merlin had his talents somewhere, surely, but fighting was not one of them. If he tried to protect his mother from trained fighters....
Arthur closed his eyes and sighed. His father would forbid it. It was someone else's kingdom. It was someone else's fight, not his.
But it was Merlin. If that wasn't his fight, then what was? He was supposed to fight, to shed blood, to possibly die for a kingdom full of people, but his closest servant, his friend, his...well, whatever else that was he hadn't figured out yet--if he could not fight for Merlin, then what honor was there in fighting for anything else?
Opening his eyes, Arthur turned on his heel and strode purposefully away from the parapet. He found it difficult to gather all his things himself, more difficult still to put his armor on alone, and he laughed a little to himself. Perhaps he could use that as an explanation when he got back, if his father found out where he'd gone. How was he expected to be prince, let alone king, without someone to dress him?
He supposed he could have found someone to help--there was always someone in Merlin's stead if he was elsewhere, but it didn't seem prudent. The less anyone knew about what he was wearing, what he was packing and where he was going, the better.
Just as night fell, he was ready. He took his things down to the stable and asked for his horse as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. While he waited, he overheard snatches of a conversation that surprised him far less than he would have thought. Morgana and Gwen had gone with Merlin, had they? Well, that, at least, gave him an excellent excuse if they were discovered--his father was far less likely to be quite so angry if he thought Arthur had gone to protect Morgana.
Not that Morgana needed protecting. And not that Arthur was going to point that out, any more than he would admit that she wasn't the reason he was going. At least, not to his father.
His horse appeared, and he stepped into the stirrup. As he mounted, he looked down at the stable boy. "Pass word to my father that I've gone out for a hunt on the outlying regions of the land. I shall return in a few days." The boy nodded, and Arthur kicked the horse into gear and galloped off in the direction of Merlin's village.
He rode until he saw signs that a group had detoured off the main road. Likely this would have been Merlin's group, judging by the time. Arthur dismounted, leading his horse carefully through the trampled grass, as silently as he could. After all, this might not be Merlin and the rest, and he didn't want to wake anyone else who might doubt his intentions.
He saw the horses, recognizing Morgana's with relief, and tied his own along with them. Pulling off his bedroll, Arthur made his way quietly towards the smoke of a recently doused fire he could just see up ahead. He had gone halfway when he saw a shadowy figure heading down the hill and ducked behind a tree.
Relief warred with amusement as he realized it was Merlin, trying to look as though he were comfortable with the sword in his hand. He waited until Merlin's back was turned before pressing his own sword carefully against Merlin's back. "I'd ask you for money, but I know you don't have any."
"Arthur!"
He'd expected the swing that came after, ducking easily to avoid having his head sliced off. He shook his head, ordering Merlin to put the sword away and moving towards the camp, knowing Merlin would be right behind him. The fire was barely out, so Arthur stirred it up a bit to warm himself before trying to sleep. He suggested Merlin go back to sleep, but after Merlin said he wasn't tired, Arthur didn't bother to try to persuade him. The quiet company was nice, and after feeling as though he'd lost something all afternoon and evening, it was nice to feel like everything was right again.
So he questioned Merlin about the village and the situation, even though he'd not only memorized it all when Merlin had first come to him, but had several possible strategies in mind already. When he had run out of questions, he reluctantly suggested they get some sleep. After all, he was there to protect Merlin, not to get them both killed by riding into battle without even an hour of rest. Merlin's halting thanks were something he wasn't sure how to deal with--as if it were a favor and not a necessity? It wasn't even a choice, not in the end. He'd just come.
He brushed the thanks aside with a comment about getting rest and went off to another part of the camp. Away from the fire, but he could face the cold far easier than other things. At least he could blame his inability to sleep on the cold, if nothing else.
Arthur was up and waiting when the rest of the camp awoke hours later. He led the way to Ealdor, responding tersely to Merlin's few attempts at conversation, trying to focus his mind on the task at hand. They weren't far from the village when they heard the screaming. With one nervous look over his shoulder at Merlin, Arthur kicked his horse into top speed and pulled his swords. He galloped into the village in time to see the man who must be Kanan with an ax raised high over a cowed villager.
Aiming quickly, Arthur threw the sword, embedding it in a piece of wood near Kanan's head. He would have preferred to have struck Kanan's head, but the wood did the trick nonetheless, distracting the man before he could lower his blow onto the villager. Arthur jumped off his horse, and the village became that whirlwind that battles always were--so clear and vivid in the moment, each swing of the sword almost in slow motion, but not much that he'd recall later.
He would recall the moment he'd turned to see a sword heading for him, not at all sure he could raise his fast enough to protect himself, and the sight of another sword blocking the way, keeping Arthur intact. He was less than surprised to see Morgana, who was, after all, the second best fighter there. She dispatched his attacker and made sure to rub Arthur's nose in it as she moved on.
Arthur looked around, but the raiders were starting to flee. Kanan mounted his horse, shouting threats as he ran away, and Arthur watched him go in disgust. Coward--fleeing with threats, no doubt to come back and ambush with more men.
He looked around for Merlin, knowing somehow that he was fine, but needing to see it anyway. He blinked as he found him, hugging not his mother, as Arthur might have expected, but some other man from the village. He watched as the two broke apart, laughing, clearly many years of companionship between them.
"Merlin!" Arthur snapped. "Gather the villagers, I need to talk to them." Merlin's attempt to finish his conversation annoyed Arthur further. "Now, Merlin! There isn't much time."
He turned away, signaling his knowledge that Merlin would do as he was told. After all, if he wanted to save his mother, his village and his friend over there, he'd better. Arthur managed to calm himself before addressing the villagers, but it wasn't long before Merlin's friend had him annoyed once more, accusing him of coming there for glory.
As if he needed to travel to the back of beyond for glory--he'd wrapped himself in it while this one was likely still playing in the woods with Merlin. As if anything other than Merlin would drag him all the way out to Ealdor to fight for a village he'd barely heard of. To protect Merlin, his mother, his home...and apparently this sod, Will.
He gave Will his chance, though, letting him propose his own stupid idea before calmly explaining what would happen if he followed through. It wasn't enough, apparently, for Will marched off in a huff, Merlin quickly chasing after him like a puppy.
Hunith distracted him, and his attention went back where it needed to be--the villagers. By the time he was done talking, Merlin was back, though the way he wouldn't quite look at Arthur, combined with the way he kept glancing at Will and looking away, was equal parts annoying and confusing. None of the reasons he could figure for that made sense--or no sense that he wanted to see at any rate, so he dismissed it while they helped put things back in place and began taking stock of what few weapons existed in the small village.
It was only later, after what was supposed to pass for dinner, after they'd talked about the plans for training, and after they'd put out the fires and retired to the crowded hut Merlin had grown up in, the others asleep in beds, Merlin and Arthur side by side on the floor, that Arthur let himself think about anything else at all. He stared at the ceiling in the dim light of the candle, ignoring the twitching of Merlin's feet near his head and wondering how they kept warm as it got even colder when he could see the stars twinkling occasionally through the ceiling.
He wondered if the bed Morgana and Gwen were sharing had been Merlin's. It seemed out of place in the room, as if it was moved in there just for this. "Have you always slept on the floor?"
"Yeah. The bed I've got in Camelot's luxury by comparison."
A life without a bed? He couldn't fathom it. "Must've been hard."
"It's like rock."
"I didn't mean the ground. I meant...for you." He tried to imagine it. "It must've been difficult."
"Mm, not really. I didn't know any different. Life's simple out here. You eat what you grow and everyone pitches in together. As long as you've got food on the table and a roof over your head, you're happy."
"Sounds..." Boring. Hard. A little useless. "Nice."
"You'd hate it."
He could hear the humor in Merlin's voice. "No doubt." But Merlin clearly hadn't hated it. "Why'd you leave?"
"Things just...changed."
His voice was different, and Arthur frowned. "How?" When Merlin didn't answer right away, Arthur reached out with his foot until it nudged Merlin's face. "Come on, stop pretending to be interesting and tell me."
"I just didn't fit in anymore." He sounded a little lost, but his next words were surer. "I wanted to find somewhere that I did."
Camelot. Arthur smiled. "Had any luck?"
"I'm not sure yet."
The words were too quick and too flat to be a joke, and Arthur's smile faded. "We start training the men tomorrow. It's gonna be a long day." He turned onto his side, away from Merlin. "Kill the candle."
He heard Merlin blow, and the candle went out, leaving the room bathed in cold moonlight. Long after Arthur could hear Merlin's breathing even out into sleep he lay there, staring at the floor beside him.
***
Arthur snapped at Merlin several times the next morning, growing more annoyed by the way he just took it. He fussed over the way Merlin settled the vest on Arthur so much he had to fix it three times before it was satisfactory. Morgana didn't help, teasing him about Merlin dressing him. As if she'd give up the chance to have Merlin do the same if she only knew how nice it felt.
Clumsy though he could be, Merlin's fingers were very strong and sure when it came to the art of putting on and taking off clothing.
Steering his mind away from those thoughts, Arthur was surprised when Hunith brought him the now even colder remains of breakfast. He feigned surprise at there being any left, then feigned at eating it until her back was turned, and made a hasty retreat.
He wondered if perhaps they could beat Kanan and his men simply by offering to fix them a meal.
It might work better than fighting, he realized, as he saw the men attempting to spar with one another. One or two looked as though they might make good fighters, if given a couple of years to train. But the majority couldn't hold their own against the pages at Camelot, let alone trained fighters, even if he had a hundred years to train them. Matthew, in particular, seemed to have two left hands and two left feet. Arthur gave up, finally, and asked him to handle sentry detail, giving him a good part in the defense without having to worry he might cut off his own arm.
As if that hadn't been bad enough, he'd had to deal with the ridiculous suggestion from Morgana and Gwen that the women fight, too. Morgana might be a good fighter, but if the men of Ealdor were this bad, he wasn't keen to be anywhere near their women with swords in their hands. He continued to train them through the rest of the day and was heartened a bit by their progress. They may not be warriors, but they were defending their home, their lives. Surely that counted for something.
He lay on the hard ground--Merlin was right, it really was like rock--pretending to sleep while going over what battle plans might best suit the meager skills his little army had, when he heard Morgana and Gwen whispering. So they thought he couldn't see that this group looked beaten before they started, did they? Clearly they didn't know him as well as they thought--just because he saw the same thing didn't mean he had to see the same outcome.
Morgana's next words showed she knew him better than he'd thought, though. She'd known enough to see why he was there, even if he'd tried to hide it. He wished she hadn't said it to Gwen, who didn't know him as well, but Gwen would believe it or not--and he thought she would not. Merlin, thankfully, lay silent and still and asleep, hearing none of it.
Gwen hearing it was one thing. Merlin hearing it was another, and definitely something neither of them needed.
***
The death of Matthew had been a blow. Arthur wasn't sure he could put it out of his head, and if he couldn't, trained as he was, he was fairly certain the villagers couldn't. Will's latest outburst hadn't helped--what had Merlin seen in that idiot, anyway? Merlin was so different--where Will kept talking about running, Merlin was never afraid of a fight for what was right, no matter how bad the odds. Arthur warmed as Merlin defended him, only to go cold as Merlin went running after Will once more.
He was back before long, though, back at Arthur's side, sitting outside his mother's house and showing exactly the Merlin that Arthur had come to know. Faith in the face of unbeatable odds, support when Arthur had just about been convinced to give up. Arthur's father had told him, the night he was named crown prince, how much he'd changed in the last few months, how much his maturity and his mental skill had grown to match his fighting ability, and attributed it to his lineage and to Uther's example.
Arthur had known at the time that wasn't really the cause of the change. Now he knew what it was.
Night fell, and Arthur gathered the villagers to give them the expected speech to bolster spirits. He even let Gwen wear him down about the women--after all, if the men fell, the women wouldn't be likely to last the winter without them. And Gwen was right. The women deserved the right to fight. Besides, if the rest of the women were anything like Hunith, they might be stronger than he'd guessed. There was no doubting her strength--even if he hadn't seen it in person, she'd raised Merlin, and that spoke volumes about her.
He left the group alone and went for a solitary walk---his custom, whenever he could, the night before a battle. It was only minutes before he heard someone else moving through the trees, and he knew who it was, even before he heard his name called softly. "Over here, Merlin," Arthur said, stopping to turn and wait.
"That was a great speech," Merlin said, smiling his earnest smile, the moon casting odd shadows on his face. "Really well done."
"Thank you. I've had a bit of practice."
"And here I thought the other knights just followed you because you had a crown."
Arthur laughed. "I'm sure that has something to do with it as well."
"Well, I suspect they'd follow you without it. You do seem to inspire...loyalty."
He wondered what other word might have gone in that pause. "What happened to your friend, Will?"
Merlin shifted, his eyes drifting towards the ground. "Wasn't interested in sticking around for the battle," he said, his voice a little bitter.
"You're the one who told me why he wasn't interested in this fight."
"I know." Merlin looked up, his head still ducked a bit. "Still, I was hoping...."
"Friends sometimes have to part ways and go down different paths," Arthur said, placing his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "You have to let him choose his own way."
Merlin nodded, his chin raising a bit, his eyes still firmly fixed on Arthur's. Merlin tilted his head just a bit, and the moonlight glinted off his eyes, entrancing Arthur, forcing him to look closer, step closer, until there was almost no distance between them.
His hand moved up Merlin's shoulder to the back of his neck as Arthur leaned in, closing his eyes as his lips touched Merlin's. Softly at first, carefully, then with more pressure, until Merlin's hands landed on Arthur's waist.
Arthur broke the kiss and stepped back, dropping his hand back to his side. Half-formed ideas and suspicions about what was going on in his own mind had all been given names, and he found himself curiously unafraid of what should have terrified him to death.
He'd chosen his path as well, and there was nothing he could do about it now.
"We have to fight in the morning," Arthur said, then cleared his throat. "We'd best get back."
He turned, knowing Merlin would be right behind him, as always, as he walked out of the woods and back to the hut.
Arthur was up just before dawn, opting for a walk in the nearby woods to avoid waking the others. He wanted a few minutes, at least, to contemplate the things he'd discovered the night before--things he could not let himself contemplate with Merlin a breath away and three other people in the room.
Gwen found him, gave him a lecture he'd probably needed and rightly deserved, and he ate his breakfast, every last bite, before going back to Hunith's hut and thanking her for the delicious meal as if it were fit for a king.
And since a future king had just eaten it, he supposed somehow it must be.
He had pulled on his chain mail when Merlin came in, wearing his own. Arthur stopped, taking in the sight, something about it seeming so...odd, and yet so right. It was as if Merlin belonged beside him in battle, which was ridiculous, since he was unable to fight, and even if he was, he was no noble, so having him on the battlefield was impossible once they were back in Camelot.
Assuming they made it back to Camelot.
He looked at Merlin again, watching the careful moves as he picked up Arthur's armor, and made a vow that they would make it back to Camelot. Whatever it took. They had unfinished business, and he intended to finish it. He wasn't about to let either of them die now, not when he'd figured out just what was going on.
Arthur took his armor and told Merlin to put on his own. By the time Arthur was done, however, Merlin--normally so sure-fingered--was still fumbling with ties. Arthur stepped in closer and took care of the ties before putting his hand on Merlin's shoulder, memories of the night before threatening to break through. He held them at bay, though. "You ready?"
"My throat's dry."
"Me, too." Arthur took a step back and held out his hand, waiting until Merlin grasped his arm firmly. "It's been an honor," Arthur said, unable to believe that they wouldn't survive the fight, but needing to say it, if only because he could, then and there. Everything else he wanted to say would have to wait. But he would make sure he'd have a chance to say it.
"Whatever happens out there today," Merlin said as they both gathered their swords, "please don't think any differently of me."
If he only knew how many men were terrified going into battle. Resigned should never be mistaken for not afraid. "I won't. It's all right to be scared, Merlin."
"That's not what I meant."
"What is it? If you've got something to say, now's the time to say it." He waited, wondering if Merlin was less sure they were going to survive, wondering if he might say something best left for later, when they had time to explore other things.
But Morgana interrupted whatever Merlin was going to say, and then it was impossible to talk, as Arthur hurried out to lead his newly formed army into battle. The wait for Kanan and his men to ride into the trap seemed interminable, followed by the wait for Morgana to set the fire, and then the helpless watch as Merlin dodged arrows going of to help Morgana--though how the idiot thought he was going to start a fire if she couldn't was beyond Arthur.
A moment later the fire raged, however, and then it was off into the battle, that same slow, blurred whirl that left no time to think, just react, all the training taking over. He'd lost count of how many he'd fought by the time he turned, finding no one there to attack, but finding Will and Merlin standing side by side, backs to him, and a wind storm to end all storms that seemed to start at their feet.
He watched, squinting against the wind and dirt, as the storm took out their opponents, scaring them away until they were all gone. As the storm died down, and the villagers celebrated, Arthur continued to stare at Will and Merlin, standing as still as they had during the storm, watching the last of the raiders ride away.
Before he could act, Arthur heard his name shouted, and realized that not all of the raiders had left. He swung round, ready to face Kanan, looking for a chance to end this for good, to be able to leave this place, Merlin by his side, and put the whole damned place behind them both and move forward. Together.
He dispatched Kanan quickly before turning to Will and Arthur. "Who did that?" They looked equally stunned, and Arthur zeroed in on Will, because surely, if Merlin could do magic, Arthur would have known that by now. There was no way that Merlin could have--would have--kept something like that from him.
They stalled for a moment before Merlin spoke his name. Before he could get his answer, however, Will shoved him out of the way. The next moment, Will was lying on the ground, an arrow in his side, and Arthur was left dumbstruck as they moved Will into a hut.
Will confirmed what Arthur had suspected, that he'd done the magic. No wonder he wanted them gone, then, if he could have taken on Kanan by himself--though Arthur wondered, even as he was realizing Will was dying, why he hadn't just dealt with Kanan in the first place.
He left Merlin to deal with it, unsure how welcome he would be as Merlin lost his friend. He waited outside, still shocked that Will had saved him at the cost of his own life. He'd have expected to push him in front of an arrow for his crimes of being a noble and taking Will's place in Merlin's life--now that he could see that clearly--not push him out of the way of one.
Still, there was the fact that Merlin had known Will's powers. And had kept them hidden, even from Arthur. He understood that loyalty of a lifetime friendship, but it still stung, the idea of Merlin keeping secrets from him. Protecting others before Arthur. Endangering them by doing so. They'd have to talk about it, and it needed to be done before they left Ealdor. Everything from the past had to be left here, or they wouldn't have a future worth mentioning.
He wasn't prepared to accept that outcome.
Merlin was outside a few minutes later, eyes puffy and red, but dry. Arthur's miniature lecture dried up in his throat. "Is he...?"
Merlin nodded. "I have to go get--" he pointed in the direction of Will's hut before rushing off in that direction. Arthur saw Hunith move to follow and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her before following instead.
He stepped inside the hut and saw Merlin holding a small wooden sword, a toy a child might play with. "His father made these for both of us," Merlin said without looking up. "Taught us to use them, though Will was always much better at it than I was. He wouldn't touch it after his father died, though. I thought it was lost, but he left it right here before he--"
Arthur crossed the room, hand on Merlin's shoulder, sliding around to the other shoulder so that Arthur's arm was across Merlin's back. "His father would have been proud."
"Even though he was a sorcerer?"
"I would assume so."
Merlin took a deep breath and put the sword down. "We should go help get ready."
"Ready?"
"To say goodbye to Will before we say goodbye to the village."
Arthur let Merlin step out of the circle of Arthur's arm, then found himself following Merlin out for a change. He helped gather the wood and stack it, and took the honor of lighting the fire for what it was--truly an honor in their village.
Only when the fire was well underway did Arthur force himself to say what he needed to say. Even though he knew it had to be done, and it could not wait, he still couldn't bring himself to look at Merlin as he did it.
"I'm sorry," Arthur started. "I know he was a close friend."
"He still is."
Still loyal to the end, Merlin? Arthur steeled himself. "You knew he was a sorcerer, didn't you? That's what you were going to tell me?"
"Yes. It was."
He took a little comfort in the fact that Merlin had been about to tell him before the battle. "You know how dangerous magic is. You shouldn't have kept this from me, Merlin."
Arthur walked off before he could turn and break, before he managed to ruin the message with his concern for how Merlin was handling the loss, or how it might affect...other things. He waited as Merlin said goodbye to his mother, listening to Gwen and Morgana but not really paying attention. When Merlin was done, they all mounted their horses, said their last goodbyes, and rode off. Arthur looked over at Merlin, riding silently at his side, waiting a mere second before Merlin looked back, giving him a smile. Arthur smiled back, settling more comfortably into his saddle, eyes trained front once more, intent on getting as far as he could before they had to stop for the night.
He could endure one more night of sleeping on the ground next to Merlin. He had every intention, however, of the next night spent side-by-side in a bed.
---
END
Title: Arthur's Truth
Author: stellarmeadow
Rating: PG
Spoilers: through 1.10
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Summary: The events of 1.10 through Arthur's eyes.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I just like to play with them. I'll give them back, BBC. Really.
Word Count: 4863
Notes: My first ever Merlin fic. *bites nails* I'm always so nervous posting in a new fandom. Many thanks to
chelseafrew for the excellent beta! He stood there, arms crossed, watching the normal daily routines of Camelot unfold below him as Merlin's footsteps faded quickly away. Arthur watched, unable to miss Merlin's loping gait as he hurried away, towards Gwen's, to say his goodbyes, no doubt.
Good luck. It was all Arthur had been able to say, despite the millions of things running through his head. Don't go wasn't allowed, because Merlin had every right to fight for his family, and because Camelot's need for Merlin was not as great as Merlin's mother's was.
And, prince or no prince, Arthur's needs did not matter one whit when matched against that of a mother in danger.
Still, he refused to believe that Merlin wouldn't come back, at least not of his own choosing. If he didn't come back, it would be because...well, because Arthur hadn't been there to protect him. Merlin had his talents somewhere, surely, but fighting was not one of them. If he tried to protect his mother from trained fighters....
Arthur closed his eyes and sighed. His father would forbid it. It was someone else's kingdom. It was someone else's fight, not his.
But it was Merlin. If that wasn't his fight, then what was? He was supposed to fight, to shed blood, to possibly die for a kingdom full of people, but his closest servant, his friend, his...well, whatever else that was he hadn't figured out yet--if he could not fight for Merlin, then what honor was there in fighting for anything else?
Opening his eyes, Arthur turned on his heel and strode purposefully away from the parapet. He found it difficult to gather all his things himself, more difficult still to put his armor on alone, and he laughed a little to himself. Perhaps he could use that as an explanation when he got back, if his father found out where he'd gone. How was he expected to be prince, let alone king, without someone to dress him?
He supposed he could have found someone to help--there was always someone in Merlin's stead if he was elsewhere, but it didn't seem prudent. The less anyone knew about what he was wearing, what he was packing and where he was going, the better.
Just as night fell, he was ready. He took his things down to the stable and asked for his horse as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. While he waited, he overheard snatches of a conversation that surprised him far less than he would have thought. Morgana and Gwen had gone with Merlin, had they? Well, that, at least, gave him an excellent excuse if they were discovered--his father was far less likely to be quite so angry if he thought Arthur had gone to protect Morgana.
Not that Morgana needed protecting. And not that Arthur was going to point that out, any more than he would admit that she wasn't the reason he was going. At least, not to his father.
His horse appeared, and he stepped into the stirrup. As he mounted, he looked down at the stable boy. "Pass word to my father that I've gone out for a hunt on the outlying regions of the land. I shall return in a few days." The boy nodded, and Arthur kicked the horse into gear and galloped off in the direction of Merlin's village.
He rode until he saw signs that a group had detoured off the main road. Likely this would have been Merlin's group, judging by the time. Arthur dismounted, leading his horse carefully through the trampled grass, as silently as he could. After all, this might not be Merlin and the rest, and he didn't want to wake anyone else who might doubt his intentions.
He saw the horses, recognizing Morgana's with relief, and tied his own along with them. Pulling off his bedroll, Arthur made his way quietly towards the smoke of a recently doused fire he could just see up ahead. He had gone halfway when he saw a shadowy figure heading down the hill and ducked behind a tree.
Relief warred with amusement as he realized it was Merlin, trying to look as though he were comfortable with the sword in his hand. He waited until Merlin's back was turned before pressing his own sword carefully against Merlin's back. "I'd ask you for money, but I know you don't have any."
"Arthur!"
He'd expected the swing that came after, ducking easily to avoid having his head sliced off. He shook his head, ordering Merlin to put the sword away and moving towards the camp, knowing Merlin would be right behind him. The fire was barely out, so Arthur stirred it up a bit to warm himself before trying to sleep. He suggested Merlin go back to sleep, but after Merlin said he wasn't tired, Arthur didn't bother to try to persuade him. The quiet company was nice, and after feeling as though he'd lost something all afternoon and evening, it was nice to feel like everything was right again.
So he questioned Merlin about the village and the situation, even though he'd not only memorized it all when Merlin had first come to him, but had several possible strategies in mind already. When he had run out of questions, he reluctantly suggested they get some sleep. After all, he was there to protect Merlin, not to get them both killed by riding into battle without even an hour of rest. Merlin's halting thanks were something he wasn't sure how to deal with--as if it were a favor and not a necessity? It wasn't even a choice, not in the end. He'd just come.
He brushed the thanks aside with a comment about getting rest and went off to another part of the camp. Away from the fire, but he could face the cold far easier than other things. At least he could blame his inability to sleep on the cold, if nothing else.
Arthur was up and waiting when the rest of the camp awoke hours later. He led the way to Ealdor, responding tersely to Merlin's few attempts at conversation, trying to focus his mind on the task at hand. They weren't far from the village when they heard the screaming. With one nervous look over his shoulder at Merlin, Arthur kicked his horse into top speed and pulled his swords. He galloped into the village in time to see the man who must be Kanan with an ax raised high over a cowed villager.
Aiming quickly, Arthur threw the sword, embedding it in a piece of wood near Kanan's head. He would have preferred to have struck Kanan's head, but the wood did the trick nonetheless, distracting the man before he could lower his blow onto the villager. Arthur jumped off his horse, and the village became that whirlwind that battles always were--so clear and vivid in the moment, each swing of the sword almost in slow motion, but not much that he'd recall later.
He would recall the moment he'd turned to see a sword heading for him, not at all sure he could raise his fast enough to protect himself, and the sight of another sword blocking the way, keeping Arthur intact. He was less than surprised to see Morgana, who was, after all, the second best fighter there. She dispatched his attacker and made sure to rub Arthur's nose in it as she moved on.
Arthur looked around, but the raiders were starting to flee. Kanan mounted his horse, shouting threats as he ran away, and Arthur watched him go in disgust. Coward--fleeing with threats, no doubt to come back and ambush with more men.
He looked around for Merlin, knowing somehow that he was fine, but needing to see it anyway. He blinked as he found him, hugging not his mother, as Arthur might have expected, but some other man from the village. He watched as the two broke apart, laughing, clearly many years of companionship between them.
"Merlin!" Arthur snapped. "Gather the villagers, I need to talk to them." Merlin's attempt to finish his conversation annoyed Arthur further. "Now, Merlin! There isn't much time."
He turned away, signaling his knowledge that Merlin would do as he was told. After all, if he wanted to save his mother, his village and his friend over there, he'd better. Arthur managed to calm himself before addressing the villagers, but it wasn't long before Merlin's friend had him annoyed once more, accusing him of coming there for glory.
As if he needed to travel to the back of beyond for glory--he'd wrapped himself in it while this one was likely still playing in the woods with Merlin. As if anything other than Merlin would drag him all the way out to Ealdor to fight for a village he'd barely heard of. To protect Merlin, his mother, his home...and apparently this sod, Will.
He gave Will his chance, though, letting him propose his own stupid idea before calmly explaining what would happen if he followed through. It wasn't enough, apparently, for Will marched off in a huff, Merlin quickly chasing after him like a puppy.
Hunith distracted him, and his attention went back where it needed to be--the villagers. By the time he was done talking, Merlin was back, though the way he wouldn't quite look at Arthur, combined with the way he kept glancing at Will and looking away, was equal parts annoying and confusing. None of the reasons he could figure for that made sense--or no sense that he wanted to see at any rate, so he dismissed it while they helped put things back in place and began taking stock of what few weapons existed in the small village.
It was only later, after what was supposed to pass for dinner, after they'd talked about the plans for training, and after they'd put out the fires and retired to the crowded hut Merlin had grown up in, the others asleep in beds, Merlin and Arthur side by side on the floor, that Arthur let himself think about anything else at all. He stared at the ceiling in the dim light of the candle, ignoring the twitching of Merlin's feet near his head and wondering how they kept warm as it got even colder when he could see the stars twinkling occasionally through the ceiling.
He wondered if the bed Morgana and Gwen were sharing had been Merlin's. It seemed out of place in the room, as if it was moved in there just for this. "Have you always slept on the floor?"
"Yeah. The bed I've got in Camelot's luxury by comparison."
A life without a bed? He couldn't fathom it. "Must've been hard."
"It's like rock."
"I didn't mean the ground. I meant...for you." He tried to imagine it. "It must've been difficult."
"Mm, not really. I didn't know any different. Life's simple out here. You eat what you grow and everyone pitches in together. As long as you've got food on the table and a roof over your head, you're happy."
"Sounds..." Boring. Hard. A little useless. "Nice."
"You'd hate it."
He could hear the humor in Merlin's voice. "No doubt." But Merlin clearly hadn't hated it. "Why'd you leave?"
"Things just...changed."
His voice was different, and Arthur frowned. "How?" When Merlin didn't answer right away, Arthur reached out with his foot until it nudged Merlin's face. "Come on, stop pretending to be interesting and tell me."
"I just didn't fit in anymore." He sounded a little lost, but his next words were surer. "I wanted to find somewhere that I did."
Camelot. Arthur smiled. "Had any luck?"
"I'm not sure yet."
The words were too quick and too flat to be a joke, and Arthur's smile faded. "We start training the men tomorrow. It's gonna be a long day." He turned onto his side, away from Merlin. "Kill the candle."
He heard Merlin blow, and the candle went out, leaving the room bathed in cold moonlight. Long after Arthur could hear Merlin's breathing even out into sleep he lay there, staring at the floor beside him.
***
Arthur snapped at Merlin several times the next morning, growing more annoyed by the way he just took it. He fussed over the way Merlin settled the vest on Arthur so much he had to fix it three times before it was satisfactory. Morgana didn't help, teasing him about Merlin dressing him. As if she'd give up the chance to have Merlin do the same if she only knew how nice it felt.
Clumsy though he could be, Merlin's fingers were very strong and sure when it came to the art of putting on and taking off clothing.
Steering his mind away from those thoughts, Arthur was surprised when Hunith brought him the now even colder remains of breakfast. He feigned surprise at there being any left, then feigned at eating it until her back was turned, and made a hasty retreat.
He wondered if perhaps they could beat Kanan and his men simply by offering to fix them a meal.
It might work better than fighting, he realized, as he saw the men attempting to spar with one another. One or two looked as though they might make good fighters, if given a couple of years to train. But the majority couldn't hold their own against the pages at Camelot, let alone trained fighters, even if he had a hundred years to train them. Matthew, in particular, seemed to have two left hands and two left feet. Arthur gave up, finally, and asked him to handle sentry detail, giving him a good part in the defense without having to worry he might cut off his own arm.
As if that hadn't been bad enough, he'd had to deal with the ridiculous suggestion from Morgana and Gwen that the women fight, too. Morgana might be a good fighter, but if the men of Ealdor were this bad, he wasn't keen to be anywhere near their women with swords in their hands. He continued to train them through the rest of the day and was heartened a bit by their progress. They may not be warriors, but they were defending their home, their lives. Surely that counted for something.
He lay on the hard ground--Merlin was right, it really was like rock--pretending to sleep while going over what battle plans might best suit the meager skills his little army had, when he heard Morgana and Gwen whispering. So they thought he couldn't see that this group looked beaten before they started, did they? Clearly they didn't know him as well as they thought--just because he saw the same thing didn't mean he had to see the same outcome.
Morgana's next words showed she knew him better than he'd thought, though. She'd known enough to see why he was there, even if he'd tried to hide it. He wished she hadn't said it to Gwen, who didn't know him as well, but Gwen would believe it or not--and he thought she would not. Merlin, thankfully, lay silent and still and asleep, hearing none of it.
Gwen hearing it was one thing. Merlin hearing it was another, and definitely something neither of them needed.
***
The death of Matthew had been a blow. Arthur wasn't sure he could put it out of his head, and if he couldn't, trained as he was, he was fairly certain the villagers couldn't. Will's latest outburst hadn't helped--what had Merlin seen in that idiot, anyway? Merlin was so different--where Will kept talking about running, Merlin was never afraid of a fight for what was right, no matter how bad the odds. Arthur warmed as Merlin defended him, only to go cold as Merlin went running after Will once more.
He was back before long, though, back at Arthur's side, sitting outside his mother's house and showing exactly the Merlin that Arthur had come to know. Faith in the face of unbeatable odds, support when Arthur had just about been convinced to give up. Arthur's father had told him, the night he was named crown prince, how much he'd changed in the last few months, how much his maturity and his mental skill had grown to match his fighting ability, and attributed it to his lineage and to Uther's example.
Arthur had known at the time that wasn't really the cause of the change. Now he knew what it was.
Night fell, and Arthur gathered the villagers to give them the expected speech to bolster spirits. He even let Gwen wear him down about the women--after all, if the men fell, the women wouldn't be likely to last the winter without them. And Gwen was right. The women deserved the right to fight. Besides, if the rest of the women were anything like Hunith, they might be stronger than he'd guessed. There was no doubting her strength--even if he hadn't seen it in person, she'd raised Merlin, and that spoke volumes about her.
He left the group alone and went for a solitary walk---his custom, whenever he could, the night before a battle. It was only minutes before he heard someone else moving through the trees, and he knew who it was, even before he heard his name called softly. "Over here, Merlin," Arthur said, stopping to turn and wait.
"That was a great speech," Merlin said, smiling his earnest smile, the moon casting odd shadows on his face. "Really well done."
"Thank you. I've had a bit of practice."
"And here I thought the other knights just followed you because you had a crown."
Arthur laughed. "I'm sure that has something to do with it as well."
"Well, I suspect they'd follow you without it. You do seem to inspire...loyalty."
He wondered what other word might have gone in that pause. "What happened to your friend, Will?"
Merlin shifted, his eyes drifting towards the ground. "Wasn't interested in sticking around for the battle," he said, his voice a little bitter.
"You're the one who told me why he wasn't interested in this fight."
"I know." Merlin looked up, his head still ducked a bit. "Still, I was hoping...."
"Friends sometimes have to part ways and go down different paths," Arthur said, placing his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "You have to let him choose his own way."
Merlin nodded, his chin raising a bit, his eyes still firmly fixed on Arthur's. Merlin tilted his head just a bit, and the moonlight glinted off his eyes, entrancing Arthur, forcing him to look closer, step closer, until there was almost no distance between them.
His hand moved up Merlin's shoulder to the back of his neck as Arthur leaned in, closing his eyes as his lips touched Merlin's. Softly at first, carefully, then with more pressure, until Merlin's hands landed on Arthur's waist.
Arthur broke the kiss and stepped back, dropping his hand back to his side. Half-formed ideas and suspicions about what was going on in his own mind had all been given names, and he found himself curiously unafraid of what should have terrified him to death.
He'd chosen his path as well, and there was nothing he could do about it now.
"We have to fight in the morning," Arthur said, then cleared his throat. "We'd best get back."
He turned, knowing Merlin would be right behind him, as always, as he walked out of the woods and back to the hut.
Arthur was up just before dawn, opting for a walk in the nearby woods to avoid waking the others. He wanted a few minutes, at least, to contemplate the things he'd discovered the night before--things he could not let himself contemplate with Merlin a breath away and three other people in the room.
Gwen found him, gave him a lecture he'd probably needed and rightly deserved, and he ate his breakfast, every last bite, before going back to Hunith's hut and thanking her for the delicious meal as if it were fit for a king.
And since a future king had just eaten it, he supposed somehow it must be.
He had pulled on his chain mail when Merlin came in, wearing his own. Arthur stopped, taking in the sight, something about it seeming so...odd, and yet so right. It was as if Merlin belonged beside him in battle, which was ridiculous, since he was unable to fight, and even if he was, he was no noble, so having him on the battlefield was impossible once they were back in Camelot.
Assuming they made it back to Camelot.
He looked at Merlin again, watching the careful moves as he picked up Arthur's armor, and made a vow that they would make it back to Camelot. Whatever it took. They had unfinished business, and he intended to finish it. He wasn't about to let either of them die now, not when he'd figured out just what was going on.
Arthur took his armor and told Merlin to put on his own. By the time Arthur was done, however, Merlin--normally so sure-fingered--was still fumbling with ties. Arthur stepped in closer and took care of the ties before putting his hand on Merlin's shoulder, memories of the night before threatening to break through. He held them at bay, though. "You ready?"
"My throat's dry."
"Me, too." Arthur took a step back and held out his hand, waiting until Merlin grasped his arm firmly. "It's been an honor," Arthur said, unable to believe that they wouldn't survive the fight, but needing to say it, if only because he could, then and there. Everything else he wanted to say would have to wait. But he would make sure he'd have a chance to say it.
"Whatever happens out there today," Merlin said as they both gathered their swords, "please don't think any differently of me."
If he only knew how many men were terrified going into battle. Resigned should never be mistaken for not afraid. "I won't. It's all right to be scared, Merlin."
"That's not what I meant."
"What is it? If you've got something to say, now's the time to say it." He waited, wondering if Merlin was less sure they were going to survive, wondering if he might say something best left for later, when they had time to explore other things.
But Morgana interrupted whatever Merlin was going to say, and then it was impossible to talk, as Arthur hurried out to lead his newly formed army into battle. The wait for Kanan and his men to ride into the trap seemed interminable, followed by the wait for Morgana to set the fire, and then the helpless watch as Merlin dodged arrows going of to help Morgana--though how the idiot thought he was going to start a fire if she couldn't was beyond Arthur.
A moment later the fire raged, however, and then it was off into the battle, that same slow, blurred whirl that left no time to think, just react, all the training taking over. He'd lost count of how many he'd fought by the time he turned, finding no one there to attack, but finding Will and Merlin standing side by side, backs to him, and a wind storm to end all storms that seemed to start at their feet.
He watched, squinting against the wind and dirt, as the storm took out their opponents, scaring them away until they were all gone. As the storm died down, and the villagers celebrated, Arthur continued to stare at Will and Merlin, standing as still as they had during the storm, watching the last of the raiders ride away.
Before he could act, Arthur heard his name shouted, and realized that not all of the raiders had left. He swung round, ready to face Kanan, looking for a chance to end this for good, to be able to leave this place, Merlin by his side, and put the whole damned place behind them both and move forward. Together.
He dispatched Kanan quickly before turning to Will and Arthur. "Who did that?" They looked equally stunned, and Arthur zeroed in on Will, because surely, if Merlin could do magic, Arthur would have known that by now. There was no way that Merlin could have--would have--kept something like that from him.
They stalled for a moment before Merlin spoke his name. Before he could get his answer, however, Will shoved him out of the way. The next moment, Will was lying on the ground, an arrow in his side, and Arthur was left dumbstruck as they moved Will into a hut.
Will confirmed what Arthur had suspected, that he'd done the magic. No wonder he wanted them gone, then, if he could have taken on Kanan by himself--though Arthur wondered, even as he was realizing Will was dying, why he hadn't just dealt with Kanan in the first place.
He left Merlin to deal with it, unsure how welcome he would be as Merlin lost his friend. He waited outside, still shocked that Will had saved him at the cost of his own life. He'd have expected to push him in front of an arrow for his crimes of being a noble and taking Will's place in Merlin's life--now that he could see that clearly--not push him out of the way of one.
Still, there was the fact that Merlin had known Will's powers. And had kept them hidden, even from Arthur. He understood that loyalty of a lifetime friendship, but it still stung, the idea of Merlin keeping secrets from him. Protecting others before Arthur. Endangering them by doing so. They'd have to talk about it, and it needed to be done before they left Ealdor. Everything from the past had to be left here, or they wouldn't have a future worth mentioning.
He wasn't prepared to accept that outcome.
Merlin was outside a few minutes later, eyes puffy and red, but dry. Arthur's miniature lecture dried up in his throat. "Is he...?"
Merlin nodded. "I have to go get--" he pointed in the direction of Will's hut before rushing off in that direction. Arthur saw Hunith move to follow and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her before following instead.
He stepped inside the hut and saw Merlin holding a small wooden sword, a toy a child might play with. "His father made these for both of us," Merlin said without looking up. "Taught us to use them, though Will was always much better at it than I was. He wouldn't touch it after his father died, though. I thought it was lost, but he left it right here before he--"
Arthur crossed the room, hand on Merlin's shoulder, sliding around to the other shoulder so that Arthur's arm was across Merlin's back. "His father would have been proud."
"Even though he was a sorcerer?"
"I would assume so."
Merlin took a deep breath and put the sword down. "We should go help get ready."
"Ready?"
"To say goodbye to Will before we say goodbye to the village."
Arthur let Merlin step out of the circle of Arthur's arm, then found himself following Merlin out for a change. He helped gather the wood and stack it, and took the honor of lighting the fire for what it was--truly an honor in their village.
Only when the fire was well underway did Arthur force himself to say what he needed to say. Even though he knew it had to be done, and it could not wait, he still couldn't bring himself to look at Merlin as he did it.
"I'm sorry," Arthur started. "I know he was a close friend."
"He still is."
Still loyal to the end, Merlin? Arthur steeled himself. "You knew he was a sorcerer, didn't you? That's what you were going to tell me?"
"Yes. It was."
He took a little comfort in the fact that Merlin had been about to tell him before the battle. "You know how dangerous magic is. You shouldn't have kept this from me, Merlin."
Arthur walked off before he could turn and break, before he managed to ruin the message with his concern for how Merlin was handling the loss, or how it might affect...other things. He waited as Merlin said goodbye to his mother, listening to Gwen and Morgana but not really paying attention. When Merlin was done, they all mounted their horses, said their last goodbyes, and rode off. Arthur looked over at Merlin, riding silently at his side, waiting a mere second before Merlin looked back, giving him a smile. Arthur smiled back, settling more comfortably into his saddle, eyes trained front once more, intent on getting as far as he could before they had to stop for the night.
He could endure one more night of sleeping on the ground next to Merlin. He had every intention, however, of the next night spent side-by-side in a bed.
---
END
