merlin has never been allowed the sun, he is the shadow behind it.
are you man enough, arthur, to win a battle with a sword in your hand and your knights at your back?
merlin wins them with empty hands, with magic he cannot speak of, with a target painted on his very existence.
are you man enough to be called a hero?
merlin saves you and swallows the name whole, lets it burn down his throat, lets history carve your face into stone while he fades into something softer, something forgettable.
are you man enough to be loved?
merlin loves you in silence. in secrecy. in the spaces between your victories, in the moments where you never even realize you almost died.
he drags you back from fate, again and again and again.
and you thank destiny. you thank luck. you thank anyone but him.
so tell me, arthur: are you man enough to live a life that was never yours alone?
or is it easier to wear the crown when you never have to see the hands that keep it on your head?
