I've been having trouble with writing and actually finishing writing things so I decided to do a sort of writing sprint of sorts. Here is the result. (I wrote this at 1 am and it's obviously not edited, so sorry for any errors. Also I forgot how to do the read more thing so that's why it's the whole thing.)
If you'd prefer to read on AO3 instead, then click here.
inspired by this post by @dialouge-prompts
βYouβre wrong.β Arthur states defiantly, but it seems as if there's pleading in there as well. He stares at the clumsy, lanky servant he'd known for about ten years.
Not him. Not Merlin. "Youβre wrong." He repeats, sounding pained, slowly losing hope in, well, everything. Because if he didn't have Merlin, then who did he have? Morgana betrayed him. Uther was dead. His council was rubbish. Yes, he had the knights and Gaius and Gwen but they weren't the scruffy neckerchief wearing manservant in front of him. It wasn't the same. And it would never be.
"I'm not. I'm sorry."
Arthur can hear the tremble in his voice.
"I have magic, Arthur."
The blond flinches. The first two times he hadn't really believed it. Not really. The third? Well, he did now.
"Why are you telling me this now?" His voice nearly cracks and he averts his gaze to the fireplace, unable to look at the raven anymore. The fireplace, it turns out was not a good place to stare at. The flickering golden flames simply reminded him of Merlin's eyes when he used magic, as if they were made of pure and precious starlight, the farthest thing from evil he could imagine.
"Because you saw me? Use magic?" Merlin replies hesitantly, resisting the urge to pace around the royal chambers.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry." The raven utters quietly, staring at the floor. He doesn't notice that Arthur's turned back to him, observing him, fathoming him.
Merlin finally meets his King's gaze. It's not cold, per se, but it's full of hurt and betrayal and I-thought-I-knew-you's and a small amount of anger that seems to bubble under the surface. Merlin hopes it doesn't overflow. In fact he expected it to overflow already. To be shouted at and to be dismissed. He hadn't expected silence. It was worse than loud anger, the warlock concluded.
"If you hadn't messed up in the confrontation with the bandits would you have ever told me?" The king asks, calm. But it hurts. It hurts to not have his trust. Yes the magic ban hadn't been lifted yet. But did Merlin really think he was capable of making his pyre, of burning him, beheading him, hurting him?
It hurt him to his core.
The warlock was silent. "I don't know."
A silence falls amongst them and it stays there for several minutes. The tension in the air was so thick that it would take the strongest knife in the kingdom to cut. Arthur sighs, placing his head into his hands.
"Why?"
"Why what?" His servant looks back at him questioningly.
"Why didn't you tell me!" Arthur finally snaps, slamming his fist on the table. He closes his eyes, trying to regain a sense of calm. Guilt is painted on his face as he takes in Merlin's jumpy and skittish stature, the light trembles in his hands, his faster breathing and large eyes. He's scared of him. He's scared of Arthur.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I didn't... I mean I don't-" the blond scrambles for words, trying to placate the raven.
Merlin says nothing. He's only awaiting his fate after all.
"Please- Just- Do you really believe that- that I would have hurt you? If I had known."
"I⦠don't know." Came the warlock's answer.
It looks like Arthur had found the answer to his question. It crushed him.
Taking the King's silence as a dismissal Merlin slowly started advancing towards the door, pale and jittery. The blond put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Please. Stay."
The raven's eyes grew larger and he gulped, trembling softly.
"Just... just to talk. That's all. I just want to talk." Arthur reassures, looking into fearful blue eyes.
"You won't chop my head off?"
"No."
"Or burn me?"
"No."
"Or arrest me on the accounts of sorcery and magic to eventually be sentenced to death?"
"No."
"O-okay. Okay." Merlin lets out a shaky breath before closing the door and retreating back into the chamber.
Arthur holds his hand out as a comforting gesture. Merlin hesitates, looking at him nervously, eyes flickering around the room and back to the King constantly. He gingerly places his hand in Arthur's, giving him the smallest of smiles, but the blond still counts it as one.
Arthur softly leads him over to the fireplace, before realizing how absolutely terrible that idea is. Instead they sit on the edge of his bed. Arthur doesn't let go of his hand.
They begin to speak in hushed tones, with Arthur trying to be patient and gentle as possible.
Looking through a crack in the door of the royal chambers are Leon and Gwen, peering in on the two of them. "Do you think they'll be alright now?" Gwen whispers, looking through the crack before turning to Leon.
"I would think so."
The two of them suddenly dart to the ground as both warlock and king stare at the doors.
"I can't believe you convinced me to come and spy with you on the king!" Leon whisper-shouts as they both crawl their way out of the hallway, with Gwen laughing silently. Oh wouldn't all the knights just love this.
