#camelotskeeper

Arthur dozed against the tree. His breathing came labored. His throat was dry; it felt as if he’d strained it while yelling at the troops. His gloved fingers gripped the dry, fallen leaves as he dusky features furrowed with the images he dreamed. A gleaming castle shrouded in black silk. His wife stood on the balcony, her hand resting on her bulging abdomen. Dark clouds, shaped as rabbits, tried to break overhead, but failed. A baby’s cry. “Merlin,” he whispered. He needed to tell the warlock about these images.

 His voice was hoarse. He had barely said a word to Merlin since seeing his manservant do magic. “Merlin, where are you?” he called. His voice was weak. He didn’t even know if the man could hear him. All Arthur knew was that the raven-haired man was not by the fire (which was the last place he’d seen him). “Please tell me invisibility isn’t one of your abilities, too.” He wasn’t sure he could handle that. Granted, he wasn’t sure he could handle Merlin’s magic.

 There was nothing for the longest time. Seconds dragged into minutes. Each moment that passed made Arthur more and more nervous. This was not like Merlin. He always answered. “I demand you come, Merlin. Right now. We have business to tend to,” he called. “I am no longer angry with you. Well, that’s a lie, I am still a little angry with you. I still don’t quite trust you. You bloody lied to me, Merlin. For due cause, but still you lied to me. We’ll deal with that later. Just… come out. I need to get home. I can’t die - not today.”

“Well, if it wasn’t for you; I would be dead if those bandits gotten me”, Eria smiled as she followed the young man through the woods. ( She was really grateful that she was saved by him ). She would’ve used her magic but she knew that she would get killed easily if a Camelot patrol came by.

“If I am then you are 5″ he answered, only barely suppressing an eye role. Merlin knew he’d been acting a little childish, but being called out on it didn’t really help matters along. “Can’t we just get over it?”

She smirked, though the expression was not unkind, her eyes dancing in amusement as Merlin nearly dropped everything again. Whilst Uther would have certainly had some harsh words for the serving boy, and perhaps even Arthur may have rolled his eyes if he was having a bad day, Morgana found the whole thing rather refreshing. Too many people walked the halls of the castle as if the world was coming to an end.

Looking out from the battlements, Arthur felt a chill settle over him, although whether that was from the wind or from his own thoughts he wasn't sure. Home. Yes this was his home ; he was part of Camelot as much as it was a part of him. Deep down he could never leave this place, and deep down he didn't want to. Not really. But sometimes it all felt too much, the weight of his duty, his destiny, almost crushing him. His father had tried to prepare him for what it meant to be King, told him it was a solitary life. But that didn't mean it didn't sometimes feel overwhelming. 

“I guess you’re right.” Arms folded across his chest, breathing deeply the sights and smells of his kingdom. He remembers telling Guinevere that sometimes he dreamt of running away from it all, to tend a patch of land, live a  s i m p l e  life. And even though he knew that could never be, it didn’t make the thought any less tempting on occasion.

He raises his eyebrows expectantly, arms folding across his chest as he waits for the other man to speak, waits to see what manner of excuse Merlin would come up with this time. Despite the smile, he can read the glimmer of aggravation in Merlin’s face, knows him well enough to see the frustration he is attempting to hide. But that doesn’t deter Arthur, fingers drumming against his arm.