Welcome

Merlin knows something is wrong by the way Gaius’ palm lingers, hesitant, on Arthur’s forehead.

“Well?” he asks, voice thick as it works around his heart lodged in his throat. In the low candlelight, Arthur’s face looks sickly pale, tinged grey and shining with a sheen of sweat.

“The fever simply won’t abate,” Gaius replies. He readjusts the damp cloth on Arthur’s forehead, a flimsy defense against devouring, burning heat.

“Why?” Merlin demands. “We’re tried so many treatments, and—” He lowers his voice, glancing at the doors. Uther has kept additional guards stationed outside his son’s chambers ever since Arthur fell ill. “I’ve tried every spell I can think of. Why isn’t he getting better?”

Gaius shakes his head. “I don’t understand it either.”

Merlin stares helplessly at Arthur’s still form, sunken into the bedsheets. He appears so unbearably small and frail, a far cry from the man Merlin needs him to be in this moment.

“It’s been days,” he whispers. “He should have recovered by now.”

Gaius gets up from his perch at Arthur’s bedside. “I’m beginning to think it’s not an ordinary fever.”

Merlin’s gaze snaps to his. “Morgause?”

Arthur,

They tell me you're looking for me.

Your knights have crossed villages I once saved, questioned people whose names you never learned, ridden roads I walked alone. Every rumour becomes another trail. Every shadow becomes another possibility.

I almost admire the effort.

Do you remember when we hunted together?

You always rode. I followed because someone had to notice the broken branches, the bent grass, the frightened birds taking flight. You looked for prey. I looked for signs.

You never understood that difference.

You think a hunt ends when the quarry is cornered.

Mine ended the day I realized Camelot had made me into something that could never go home.

I spent years teaching myself how to disappear. Every lie I told was another footprint erased. Every smile was another false trail. Every "yes, sire" was another layer between the man you knew and the one who survived.

Do you know what's funny?

You spent years wondering how I was always there before disaster struck.

Now you'll spend years wondering why you're always one step behind.

You'll search the forests first because you remember how much I loved them. You'll search Ealdor because you'll think grief drives a man home. You'll search the taverns because Gwaine always found me there. You'll search every place that meant something.

And every place that meant something stopped being home the day I left it.

You could search every kingdom from Albion to the sea.

You could question every druid, every dragonlord, every old woman who remembers my name.

You could fill the roads with red cloaks until the earth forgets the color of grass.

You still wouldn't find me.

Because you are hunting the boy who polished your armour, argued over your neckerchief, tripped over his own feet, and smiled every time you laughed.

He died long before I ever walked away.

The man writing this letter is merely what remained.

You can't hunt a man who no longer exists.

At their 10th graduation anniversary, they meet again. Arthur has been dreading the day they would meet again for a long time, especially now that he's come out himself. His former friends don't know that tho.

Arthur: Merlin, I really am sorry

Merlin: good for you

Arthur: No, I mean it, really!

Merlin: Yeah, I believe it. But that doesn't give me back my childhood. I'm not going to forgive you just because you said sorry once

Arthur: that... of course not. You don't need to forgive me, it's just - you deserved this apology. I was a kid who didn't know better and you deserved better. It's just, my father-

Merlin: Now you just want to look good in front of everyone else here. I look like an arse for not forgiving you, but I couldn't care less. I came here to say 'fuck you', I haven't forgotten! You were a kid? well, so was I! And I didn't chase you around for some made up reason! Not that it wasn't true but you didn't know that yet and neither did I.

Arthur: I-

Merlin: you could have left me alone. You could have minded your own business! I don't care what your father thought about me, you didn't have the right to punch me! And call me names! Why the hell were you so obsessed with me anyway?!

Arthur: ...

Arthur: * blushing *

Arthur: Because you were cute?

Merlin: ... I was what?

Class: ???????

Arthur: yeah, well. That. I was scared

Merlin: wait, you're-

Arthur: yeah. *nervous * Had some tough times because of it... Guess I learned the hard way what I've done to you. But - *hesitates* That doesn't mean you have to forgive me. It still doesn't. I just - I thought if you understood - I don't want to hurt you anymore. And if that memory still does haunt you, then I must apologize. I really, really mean it. And it would do you some good to know that I got what I deserved and ... stuff.

Merlin: ...

Merlin: wow, you really did change, huh?

Arthur: i hope so

Merlin: ... cute you say?

Arthur: shut up, I'm sure you hear that all the time

Merlin: wait wait wait, not so fast. We were talking about kid me, not me me! You still think I'm cute?

Arthur: erm-

Merlin: you think I'm cute!

Arthur: no, no I don't!

Merlin: liar! Here is my number. You owe me several coffees and dinners and I would be a fool not to take the offer

Arthur: but I never offered - *is handed the number* er... yeah. Sure. I'll call you?*flushes*

Merlin: *grins*

Merlin in the show is always sneaking away, moving in the shadows and stopping attempts against Arthur life. Merlin has kill quite a number of people I want Arthur to understand that Merlin can be scary for people that is not him, because Merlin would never want Arthur to be scare of him.

There are fanfics, fanarts and fancomics in which Arthur sees the power of Merlin and he sees all the beauty and tenderness that it can come with magic, and if he sees Merling using against his enemies is always a fast Merlin vs bandits ending in some wave of power that cleans the bandits away, but there are other ways in which Merlin can use his magic to be incredible dangerous.

I have been having the idea that maybe a enemy of Arthur, notices how Merlin is the reason why Arthur has been able to survive so long and against all odds, and knowing that attacking Arthur directly is a suicide mission, they use magic (I know that Merlin is inmune to most of it, or can see through, but for the sake of the idea, lets pretend this magic is very strong of tricky) so Merlin would be unable to recognize Arthur as his Arthur. It could be that he sees a complete stranger, or it could be as the Capgras delusion and Merlin thinks that Arthur has been exchanged by a copycat.

Arthur hated losing.

This was a truth as old as Camelot itself, a truth woven into the stone of the castle and the very shape of his smile. Arthur lost badly, with wounded dignity and endless complaints. He accused people of cheating. He demanded rematches. He insisted that the rules had somehow changed halfway through the game.

Which was why Merlin treasured every victory like a dragon hoarding gold.

The wager had begun over breakfast.

It had started, as most of Camelot's disasters did, with Arthur being unbearably smug.

"You couldn't beat me if your life depended on it," Arthur said.

Merlin looked up from his porridge.

"I beat you all the time," Merlin replied.

"You beat me once," Arthur argued.

"Three times," Merlin corrected.

"Once, Arthur insisted.

"Three," Merlin said.

"One," Arthur shot back.

"Gaius counted," Merlin said.

"Gaius is old," Arthur replied.

"Gwaine counted," Merlin added.

"Gwaine can't count," Arthur said.

And somehow, because neither of them possessed even the smallest instinct for self-preservation, this had spiralled into a competition involving archery, sword drills, horse racing, strategy games, and a final deciding round of dice that attracted half the knights and most of the servants as spectators.

The terms were simple:

If Arthur won, Merlin would do anything he asked.

If Merlin won, Arthur would do anything he asked.