Chapter Text
Gwen was the first out of the castle when Merlin and Arthur rode into the citadel. The sun had just began its descent, and oranges and pinks faded into one another across the horizon, painting the stone a warm yellow. Gwen hugged Arthur the instant he was down from his horse. Merlin hadn’t been expecting the same treatment, but found himself on the receiving end of the Queen’s affectionate embrace as well.
“There’ve been whispers the entire time you two were gone,” she scolded in a low voice, one brow raised. “The King and his manservant suddenly nowhere to be found, and no one with a suitable explanation.”
“They’ll have an explanation soon enough,” Arthur said. “Morgana is dead.”
Gwen looked to Merlin for confirmation and he nodded.
“Does this mean the beast who attacked the villages has also been stopped?” she asked. “You ordered to pull the knights from patrol before you left—”
“Guinevere.” Arthur put his hands on her elbows and smiled down softly at her. “Merlin and I have had a tiring few days. We’ll speak at length tomorrow before addressing the court.”
Guinevere nodded. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”
Arthur kissed her cheek before letting go and signaling their exit to Merlin. Merlin handed the horses’ reins to a waiting servant and followed him in.
Leon ran up to them in the corridor, looking simultaneously distressed and relieved. “Your Majesty—”
“Not now, Leon,” Arthur said, raising a hand. “Unless it’s an urgent matter, I’d like to rest first.”
Leon bowed his head respectfully, though it was clear he would rather interrogate Arthur the same as everyone else. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
As soon as they reached Arthur’s chambers, Merlin sighed and sank down into a chair to take off his boots. “Would you like me to send for a bath now or in the morning?” he asked.
Across the room, Arthur was struggling to remove his armour, so Merlin walked over to help, one boot still on. Arthur exhaled gratefully and let Merlin attend to him.
“I’m not up for a bath just now, I think,” Arthur said. Merlin’s hands faltered as he placed Arthur’s armour on the table, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Arthur took hold of his arm and looked him in the eye. “It’s not you, Merlin. I really am just exhausted.”
Merlin nodded silently. He wanted to apologise again but knew just as well as Arthur that no amount of sorry’s would repair the damage he’d done. It hurt, but somehow it hurt less than when he’d been lying. Carrying that weight around had been unbearable; this, at least, was pain Merlin could live with for a while if it meant regaining Arthur’s trust.
“You should eat something,” Merlin said when Arthur began climbing into bed. “Bread, at least.”
“Merlin.”
“Just looking after your wellbeing,” Merlin muttered as he finished undressing himself.
Arthur was already lying on his side with his eyes closed when Merlin slid into bed. “You forgot to lock the door,” he mumbled.
Merlin sighed and regarded the distance across the room. The softness of the bed already had fatigue settling over his bones and it seemed too much effort to move at this point. He bolted the door with magic and held his breath while Arthur turned his head slowly to look at him.
“Is that alright?” Merlin asked hesitantly.
Arthur turned away again. “Yes. Might as well draw the curtain around the bed while you’re at it.”
Merlin willed the curtains to come together, closing around them in the bed. The fading light from the windows no longer reached them and it went dark.
O===[]::::::::::::::::::>
Merlin was stopped by Lancelot on his way to Gaius’s chambers the next morning. The knight pulled him aside, into an alcove.
“Guinevere tells me Morgana is dead.”
“You just couldn’t wait until Arthur addressed everyone, could you?”
“Merlin.”
“Yes, she’s dead. I killed her.”
It had been easier than Merlin had thought it would be. Not the act of killing itself—he was much too hardened by now to feel any hesitation—but the killing of someone who had once been his friend. He supposed it was due to how angry she’d made him; former friend or not, she was the one who had stolen his dragon, overthrown Arthur’s kingdom, and threatened all he held dear. He could only be so lenient, his kindness pushed so far.
It had even felt strangely...good to kill her. Something else Merlin hadn’t expected. The entire night he’d replayed the moment he thrust the sword into her and had had trouble falling asleep no matter how tired he was. It was a load off his shoulders.
“Does that mean Arthur knows?” Lancelot asked.
Merlin grinned, happy to finally give Lance an answer he wanted. “Yes. He found out before I managed to say anything myself. He took it better than I could’ve hoped.”
Lancelot smiled and threw an arm around him, bringing him into a hug. “That’s excellent news, Merlin.”
“It’ll be just a while longer before you can tell Gwen,” Merlin said once Lance stepped back. “Not too long,” he added hurriedly, seeing Lance’s fallen expression. “A few days. Or maybe tomorrow? I want to give things time to settle.”
Lance looked at him unimpressed. “Merlin.”
Merlin sighed. “Okay, we can tell her today.”
“That’s better.”
“Merlin!” Gaius exclaimed when Merlin entered. “I heard you two had arrived yesterday.” He pulled Merlin into a hug, then just as quickly cuffed Merlin’s ear. “That was incredibly foolish running off like that. I don’t know how you think you would’ve done it if Arthur hadn’t gone after you.”
“You mean without Excalibur? I could’ve just gotten any sword and had Aithusa—Ow!” Gaius hit Merlin’s shoulder and Merlin clutched it for show.
“Foolish,” Gaius repeated. “I’m glad you’re home safe, though.”
“I’m glad as well, Gaius.”
“Now, you and Arthur have started quite a bit of gossip. More so than usual I might add. On top of worrying about you two, it’s had Gwen rather stressed.”
Merlin looked away from Gaius and his arching eyebrow. It was one thing for others to bring up the worst-kept secret in Camelot, the scandal of his and Arthur’s relationship, and another for Gaius to. And though he didn’t feel particularly embarrassed about it, he did feel uncomfortable when Gaius referred to it.
Merlin had realised that their outing had more of a clandestine air to it than, say, a hunting trip. They had left in the middle of the night and been gone for days. Merlin hadn’t had the chance to hear any of the rumours, but no doubt someone had proposed the idea that he and the King had taken up in a tavern in the country or some other such isolated location where they wouldn’t be bothered.
“I can handle a bit of gossip, Gaius, you know that.” It’d been ten years, after all. “I’ll apologise to Gwen later, if Arthur hasn’t already.”
Gaius nodded and changed the subject. “How did Arthur take the news?”
“Better than expected. As you can probably guess, he was more upset that I’d lied than about the magic itself. He’s taken it well. He seemed himself in the bath this morning.”
Merlin blushed, feeling he’d said too much. But they hadn’t finished their bath in the usual manner anyway. It had been more relaxing and rejuvenating than sensual. Merlin had even felt loved for what he considered the first time, loved wholly and unconditionally now that Arthur knew the truth and had the ability to do so.
“That’s good.” Gaius didn’t say ‘I told you so,’ which Merlin appreciated.
“Did you need help with anything while I’m here?” Merlin asked. He walked over to the table and saw Gaius had started brewing several potions, which were bubbling nicely.
“Don’t be ridiculous, my dear boy, you’ve only just returned and I’m sure you’re not up to it,” Gaius admonished. “Go talk to Gwaine, he’s been looking for you.”
Merlin let himself be shooed away from the table. “He’ll be at the meeting Arthur’s holding soon. You’re to be there as well, actually.”
Gaius’s eyebrow raised again. “Oh?”
“The round table knights and Gwen are meeting in the royal council chambers before Arthur’s usual dinner.”
Gaius relented. “Then I suppose you can lend me a bit of your magic. Some of these I’d like to make a bit more potent than I’m capable of.”
“You know I’m not good at healing magic.”
“I also know there’s an endless amount of things you can learn. Come over here and bring that book there with you.”
Merlin groaned at Gaius’s need to never miss a learning opportunity, but inwardly he was glad for the normalcy after the past few days.
O===[]::::::::::::::::::>
Arthur was sitting at the table with his hands steepled in front of his mouth, unsure how to begin. He’d gone over various beginnings in his head but settled on none. He looked around the table, at his loyal knights, sitting straight and respectful—save, of course, Gwaine—and at Guinevere, who appeared as though she wanted to politely nudge Arthur to speak already. He looked at Gaius, whose gaze was wise and unwavering, the most patient of all of them, and at Merlin, who couldn’t seem to sit still or find a comfortable position.
“Merlin has magic.”
Merlin cringed at the forwardness, and immediately darted his eyes around the table. A few of the knights’ eyes widened in amazement, but Lancelot, Gwaine, and Leon seemed unsurprised. Gaius was understandably blank-faced, but Arthur hadn’t expected Guinevere to be taking the news so calmly.
Merlin suddenly turned to him, an annoyed look on his face. “I wanted to tell them myself.” Arthur shrugged.
“I’m glad you finally decided to tell everyone,” Leon said. “Or rather, have Arthur tell everyone for you.”
Merlin looked more stunned than anyone at the table. “You knew, Leon?”
“I’m not quite as oblivious as Arthur. Meaning no disrespect, Your Majesty,” Leon added quickly.
Gwaine leaned back, folding his hands behind his head and grinning. “You’ve always been too cunning and resourceful not to have magic. You also may have mumbled something once or twice when you were drunk.”
“Lovely.”
“You don’t seem too surprised either, Guinevere,” Arthur said.
Guinevere smiled and shook her head. “I’m not. I knew someone close to me had magic ever since my father was healed. I always suspected it was Merlin since he’s so kind, but was never sure how to ask. When you first told us about Emrys, I was sure it was him.” She looked at Merlin, who Arthur thought might’ve been blushing. He wished he wasn’t sitting between them. “Things have also been different since I’ve become Queen. We don’t share the same closeness like we used to when we were both servants. There were many times I wished to approach you about it, but didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
Merlin’s mouth opened and closed before he finally settled on, “I’m sorry.”
Arthur felt the tension between the three of them, and was glad the table was as rounded as it was, allowing a comfortable distance. He felt the unspoken agreement they’d all come to years ago, though he’d never quite noticed the strain it had put on Guinevere and Merlin’s friendship. Or maybe he’d never let himself notice it. Gwen was happy with Lancelot, but it must have been hard all the same to be in her position. Arthur was well aware that things were said about him, Merlin, and even Lancelot from time to time, but Guinevere’s being a woman made things so much different for some reason. It was why she was always the most distressed when the rumours were especially vicious.
Arthur stood and placed his hands on the table, getting everyone’s complete attention. “Merlin won’t be a servant for much longer.”
“I won’t?”
Arthur glared at him for interrupting, and continued. “When I address the court later today, I’ll be announcing my intentions. The ban on magic will be officially lifted a week from today and Merlin will be put on the Royal Council—”
“I will?”
“—as well as formally recognised as Court Sorcerer.”
“Congratulations, Merlin!” Gwaine cheered.
Merlin blinked, stunned.
“Those aren’t all my plans, but the rest you’ll all hear later with everyone else,” Arthur said. “I don’t think there’ll be any objections to Merlin joining the Council once they realise his mastery of magic, do you, Gaius? Guinevere?”
“Of course not, sire,” Gaius said.
Guinevere, smiling proudly at Merlin, shook her head. “No.”
Suddenly, Lancelot stood, chin held high with his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I said once to Merlin and I’ll say it again to all here—Merlin is the most loyal, the most loving and noble man I’ve ever known. He sacrifices everything for his friends and does whatever needs to be done to keep Camelot and her king safe. I’m honoured to have stood beside Merlin as Arthur’s servant and I’ll be honoured to stand beside him as Court Sorcerer.”
Merlin looked remarkably humbled and embarrassed, much like he wanted to disappear, but Arthur had never been more proud. Merlin’s embarrassment increased when Leon stood too, swearing the same oath to serve Merlin well, to protect him and fight for him, to strike down all who opposed him. One by one—Gwaine, Elyan, Percival—each of them stood and swore the same.
Arthur waited until all were seated again to move on. “With regards to Morgana: I’m sure you all know by now that Merlin and I killed her. I’ll explain here how, but I want no word spoken of it outside of these chambers just yet.” He waited for them to nod, then continued. “The beast attacking the villages before, the one we suspected to be a dragon—Morgana was indeed using it, but Merlin—”
“I took her back,” Merlin cut in, abruptly getting to his feet as well.
A shudder went down Arthur’s spine at the firmness in his voice, and Merlin no longer looked humbled or shy. He addressed the table with as much authority in his tone as Arthur, and Arthur was so in awe, the same way he was when he witnessed the naming ceremony of the druids, that he didn’t have it in him to care that he was being interrupted.
“Aithusa was a dragon I myself brought out of her egg, that I named and set free. I had no intention of letting Morgana get hold of her, and have no idea how she did. When I first heard the description of the beast I commanded her to come to me right away. It was she that led Arthur and me to Morgana’s hideout in the Northern Plains. We travelled all the way to Ismere to find her, and I slayed her in her sleep.”
“It’s the remaining Saxons I believe we should be on the lookout for,” Arthur said. “When compared to Camelot’s army, there aren’t many of them, and should be easy enough to handle.” The knights nodded. “They were being led by a druid traitor named Ruadan the last we heard, but it’s possible they’ve all disbanded. I won’t send out patrols until I think it’s necessary. With any luck, it won’t ever be.”
“The Saxons normally live in settlements just like the druids do,” Merlin said. “I have people who can keep an eye on things and send word if something suspicious is going on.”
Arthur nodded his approval. He was glowing inside at the turn this had taken. Merlin had advised him on things before, but always in private company, and never to this degree. It felt the way Arthur thought things should be, Emrys finally working with him.
Merlin hurriedly sat down again, as though just realising a blunder. Gwaine cocked an eyebrow at him, which Merlin ignored.
“Your Majesty,” Leon began, “with regards to Merlin’s change in station. You say a week from today it’ll be made official alongside the change in law. Surely he shouldn’t be treated as a servant in the interim?”
Arthur shook his head. “Certainly not. Before I was crowned Prince, I was still treated as royalty. From now until Merlin’s ceremony he’s to be regarded as any other noble in the castle.”
“Arthur…”
Arthur quieted Merlin with a hand. “Without a title, for now. I believe simply ‘Merlin’ will do.”
“I’ll look into having new clothes made,” Gwen said. Merlin winced.
“Thank you, Guinevere. Thank you all. You’re dismissed.”
O===[]::::::::::::::::::>
Merlin was used to stares. As a boy in Ealdor, he’d learnt to ignore the looks that followed him around, villagers furrowing their brow when they noticed Hunith’s gangly boy getting up to no good with that Will lad. It hadn’t been so bad in Camelot until he’d become known as Arthur’s illicit lover, but those stares too he’d grown accustomed to.
It was the stares he’d had to endure for the past week that he made his skin prickle in discomfort. No wonder he was always kept so close, he could practically hear them thinking. Or, There’s Merlin, the servant gone Court Sorcerer just because he’s a favourite of the king who happens to have magic. He’d wanted to yell “Stop looking at me!” more than a few times.
Arthur was hardly any help. Things between them, though not unpleasant, were still strained. They slept in the same bed well enough, wrapped in each other’s arms as always, and they spoke in the same manner they always had, alternately joking and fond. Merlin had taken to telling Arthur the things he’d done over the years every night, like bedtime stories, as they lay in bed, Arthur never saying a word but listening intently.
But besides their nightly touches, there’d been nothing. No kisses, not even a chaste one; no looks of heated desire, not even when one or both of them awoke erect; and certainly no lovemaking. By the fourth day after their return, Merlin had taken to finding quiet moments alone with his hand. After having had physical love whenever he wanted for so long, he was starved for it when denied it now.
Merlin tried to occupy his mind with other things, mainly with his task of preparing the document meant to repeal the ban. Another servant had been given certain old duties of Merlin’s, a lovely and polite young man named Osmund who Merlin immediately took to, finding him both likeable and capable of being discreet. While Osmund cleaned the king’s chambers, Merlin sat at Arthur’s desk writing the speech, going over the ins and outs of the law which he’d then propose to Gaius and Arthur later on before consulting it again.
He felt oddly traitorous giving away the not-entirely-secret secret of cold iron and how it could be used to subdue one’s magic, but it was vital knowledge in case of the law being broken. Merlin wasn’t the most learned man, having been taught his letters from his mother and the Old language from Gaius, so many times when he was unsure of the phrasing of something he turned to Geoffrey. The old librarian was more helpful than Merlin had expected, and even brought out some lawbooks of old which Merlin could refer to. It was work which Merlin felt should be done in a few weeks, not one, but with his new free time there wasn’t much else for him to do. He threw himself into the work and was glad for it, could almost physically feel the progress being made.
Immediately after Arthur held court the day after their arrival, Merlin had word sent to the druid leader Doria about the ceremony, knowing she’d spread it to others, as well as relaying the message to watch for Saxon activity. Two days later, while being fitted for a new clothes, the messenger returned and confirmed that Doria and a few others would attend the event. They were pleased to hear the news, and were honoured that Lord Emrys had remembered them.
Now it was the day of the ceremony, and Merlin was restless. He paced his and Arthur’s chambers sweating under his new woven clothes. Arthur sat at the table, leisurely drinking his morning wine from a silver goblet.
“I like that black coat much more than that wretched brown one,” Arthur mused, chewing a piece of bread. “Better contrast.”
Merlin shrugged out of it and tossed it on the bed. It was a troublesome thing that fell all the way down to his calves, had too many belts, pockets, and buckles, and made him too hot.
Arthur sighed. “Will you please come sit and eat?”
“As if you weren’t just as nervous the morning you were crowned King,” Merlin said. He acquiesced though and went to sit across from Arthur. Arthur slid him a plate of sausages and Merlin suddenly found he was ravenous.
“I have a surprise for you,” Arthur said.
Merlin cocked his head. “What sort of surprise?”
Arthur looked at Osmund, who stood waiting should they need anything. “Bring her here,” he ordered. Osmund left immediately.
“Bring who?” And who of the female persuasion was a better question. Arthur would never gift Merlin a whore, at least Merlin didn’t think he would.
“Just eat, Merlin.”
Merlin shrugged, not troubling himself with it. He had three more sausages before moving on to the eggs. He had a mouth full of them when Osmund returned and he nearly choked.
“Mother!”
Hunith grinned upon seeing him and opened her arms as he rushed forward to hug her. “Merlin.”
Merlin could’ve cried with happiness. She looked older, more tired around the eyes and mouth, but still his ever-bright mother. Forgetting the distance that had been between he and Arthur the past few days, Merlin turned and hugged Arthur as well when he’d stood up.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Merlin said. “Come eat with us, Arthur always gets the best food.”
He pulled Hunith over to the table and made her eat the best of what was left over. Arthur remained quiet and aloof, though not rude and not unsmiling, letting Merlin have his fun.
“Look at you, Merlin, you look so handsome!” Hunith exclaimed, tugging Merlin’s sleeve. Merlin looked down at his clothes—his black trousers that certainly didn’t hang off his frame as the others did, but fit the way trousers were meant to; his deep blue robe not made of coarse, peasant fabric but of the same expensive material Arthur’s clothes were made of, and which came down to his knees, tied with a wide, black belt around the waist; his new, third pair of boots, more for appearance than function, which reached halfway up his calves and had a golden trim where the leather was laced together. Only his red scarf was what remained of his usual attire.
Merlin smiled. “Thank you.”
“I’m so proud of you. I know your father would be, too. You’ve grown into a good man.”
Merlin swallowed and avoided Arthur’s eyes. “I think… There are things I would’ve done differently. Not all the decisions I’ve made were the best I could have.”
Hunith put a hand on Merlin’s and looked at him sympathetically. “It’s impossible to know beforehand what consequences our decisions will have, Merlin. It’s hard enough for ordinary people and I can only imagine the strain you must’ve been under with no precedent to follow. We all make mistakes and it’s only hindsight that we see we’ve made them. Life is full of difficult decisions and we do the best we can.” She leaned back and picked up the goblet before her. “Do you really think anyone knows what the hell they’re doing? It’s all a guessing game!”
Merlin chuckled, feeling leagues better.
“You were so young when I sent you here, Merlin, barely out of your childhood. Whether you realise it or not, you’ve done remarkably well. And now look at you! That’s why I couldn’t be more proud.”
Merlin exhaled in relief, another weight off his shoulders. “Thank you, Mother.”
There was a knock on the door. “Your Majesty?” Lancelot’s voice. “It’s time.”
Merlin took a deep breath and stood. “Where’s my—Oh, thank you, Osmund.” Osmund handed Merlin his staff and coat with a small smile. He helped Merlin into it and Merlin finally let his gaze find Arthur.
There it was again, the light of love in Arthur’s eyes.
O===[]::::::::::::::::::>
Merlin was a mess of nerves outside the Great Hall. Through the doors he could hear Arthur’s strong voice reading his words, publicly proclaiming Uther’s ban on magic unjust and unlawful. He wished he could witness it for himself, this momentous occasion he’d given everything for, but knew his time would come soon. The doors would open and he’d be made official Sorcerer of the Court under the new decree. That in itself was enough, the honour so great that Merlin still couldn’t believe it had really been bestowed upon him.
“To ensure the success of this ordinance will require one familiar with the schools of magic, one whose mastery of the discipline is beyond compare,” Arthur’s voice declared. Merlin’s heart started to race. “That is why today, in addition to enacting this law, we officially honour Emrys, known to many as Merlin, as the authority on all matters relating to magic in the kingdom of Camelot.”
The guards took their cue to open the doors, and Merlin squared his shoulders, going through a last-minute mental inventory of his appearance.
The moment Merlin entered the Great Hall, the assembled druids in the back of the gathering dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. A chorus of Lord Emrys’s echoed in Merlin’s mind as they respectfully greeted him. Those who had any doubt as to Merlin’s position before—particularly those who had stared at him the past week—certainly had no such doubts any longer. All those still standing glanced nervously at one another, not sure whether they too should kneel. Merlin fought off the rising unease and found comfort in the stabilising presence of the knights at the front, in Gaius standing near the pillar on the far side of the hall next to his mother. He gripped his staff tighter.
Finally stepping past the entrance, Merlin saw Doria nearest him, and walked over to her, urging her to rise with a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m glad to see you’ve made it, Doria,” he said. “But please, stand.”
The druids stood, and in each of their eyes Merlin saw adoration, devotion, pride. He wondered for the thousandth time what it would’ve been like to grow up among them, but perhaps that simply hadn’t been his destiny.
He took a subtle deep breath and went the rest of the length to where Arthur and Guinevere stood waiting in front of their respective thrones. He’d approached his closest friends so often before, but never like this. In all the knighting ceremonies he’d witnessed, he’d never once wondered what the person being knighted had felt like; he’d usually been more occupied admiring Arthur’s grace. His nerves were jittery, his heart pumping in his chest, and his stomach full of butterflies.
Merlin was grateful for his staff when he carefully lowered himself to his knees before his King and Queen. It was hard work to keep an idiotic smile off his face, especially when he could see the same struggle going on in Arthur’s face. Both of them wanted to break out into grins, which was hardly appropriate. Merlin could already feel the weight of everyone’s eyes watching, honing in on how affectionately they were staring at each other.
“Emrys,” Arthur began, and a shiver passed through Merlin hearing Arthur address him that way to his face, “you have been deemed fit for this high estate by your peers, and have indicated your willingness to accept this honour from my hands. Do you now swear by all that you hold sacred, true, and holy that you will honour and defend the Crown and kingdom of Camelot?”
Merlin nodded firmly, never more sure of anything in his life. “I will.”
“That you will honour, defend, and protect all ladies, and those weaker than yourself?”
“I will.”
“That you will be courteous and honour your peers?”
“I will.”
“That you will conduct yourself in all matters as befits a peer, using your magic only for just cause? That you will enshrine in your heart the noble ideals of chivalry to the benefit of your own good name and the greater glory of Camelot?”
“I will.”
To the right of him, Leon handed Arthur his sword.
“Then having sworn these solemn oaths, know now that I, Arthur Pendragon, by right of arms, king of Camelot, do dub you with my sword, Excalibur, and by all that you hold sacred, true, and holy...once for honour...twice for duty...thrice for chivalry...Arise, Emrys, Court Sorcerer.”
Merlin was shaky and breathless as he got to his feet, using his staff for leverage. The applause of the court had never seemed louder to his ears. Arthur finally allowed a smile to pass his lips so Merlin smiled as well. He couldn’t quite keep his as reserved, though. He turned and scanned the sea of faces for his mother, finding her next to Gaius. Both beamed with pride and affection.
Merlin wished to go to them instead of standing there at the centre of everyone’s attention, but remained where he was. When the clapping settled down, Arthur said, “Merlin shall not only have a seat on the Royal Council, but will oversee the training of those with magic who wish to serve Camelot as sorcerer knights. The Council will meet tomorrow in order to begin discussing the details. The rest of today will be spent in celebration, and there will be a feast in Merlin’s honour tonight, but for now… How about a demonstration of your power, Merlin?”
Merlin’s magic thrummed at being called to action, pulsing pleasantly in his veins. He could feel Arthur’s pride and expectation without turning to look at him, but turned anyway. Arthur was looking at him with admiration again, and even Gwen was nodding encouragingly. Merlin’s fingers twitched and he raised his free hand, letting his magic erupt.
The windows in the Great Hall flew open all at once, making everyone in the crowd gasp. Gales of wind poured in from both sides, whipping at clothes and causing the unlit chandelier above to shake perilously. As the controlled currents of air came together to form white, fleecy clouds, thunder like horses’ hooves began to sound, echoing deafeningly throughout the room. Even Merlin could feel the vibration in his chest as the roar crescendoed.
With one blast from the left, the clouds started to spiral and change shape. Definite forms began to be visible—legs, tails, long noses, and soon after, flowing capes, erect spines, proud riders. Camelot knights rode thunderously around the room on powerful horses, and the real knights themselves cheered, raising their arms in the air.
Merlin channeled the power of his staff, as his next spell required him to siphon energy from the earth and create new life. The thunder died away and butterflies swarmed from the palm of his hand, flying through the fading clouds and swirling in an array of colours, from the deepest red to the brightest violet. The children in the hall looked up with glee, reaching above their heads trying to catch them. Merlin willed the butterflies to arrange themselves in different patterns, first a spherical rainbow, then a blanket of fluttering movement. It was when they were arranged in the Pendragon crest that Merlin turned every single one of them red for a few moments before casting another spell to turn them all into rosebuds. They fell onto the crowd, who caught them or picked them up, gazing at them in awe.
Just one last thing, Merlin thought. The crystal in his staff illuminated vibrantly as he pushed all the magic he could into it, ready for the power to be amplified. He gripped it firmly with both hands and raised it high, then brought it down onto the stone.
The castle shook. Transparent, blue light radiated from Merlin and the bottom of his staff, sliding across the floor and up the walls. It enveloped everything in an iridescent glow, and Merlin pushed with all the magic at his disposal to make the spell extend as far away as even Camelot’s outermost walls. He covered the entire city in his magic, casting a protective enchantment over every house, every brick, every stone. Only with his death would the shield over Camelot fall.
Merlin blinked rapidly as the glow faded, feeling dizzy. He’d overdone it, he knew, but felt it was worth it. The druids, and probably anyone else in the city with the slightest bit of magic, would’ve been able to feel the effects of the spell immediately, but Merlin would tell Arthur exactly what he’d done later. For now he smiled and gathered his strength to keep upright, ignoring Gaius’s ever-raised eyebrow.
The whispers started almost instantly.
“—was amazing!”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Where did the butterflies even come from?”
“—see how bright his eyes glowed?”
Merlin suddenly felt Arthur’s hand on his shoulder, and as Arthur stepped up beside him, the whispers faded into silence.
“I have one final announcement,” Arthur began. Those in the court who didn’t already know waited with wide eyes. “Morgana is dead, and I cannot take the credit for it. I want to explain that the night we left Camelot, it was because Merlin had discovered her whereabouts and rode out to finish her. Naturally I wouldn’t let this idiotic manservant of mine do such a thing on his own, and rode off after him.”
Arthur’s hand ruffled Merlin’s hair and Merlin ducked his head, blushing at the gesture being done in public. He hoped the laughter of the court was at Arthur’s joke alone.
“It was at his hand that Morgana met her end, and Camelot owes him a great debt,” Arthur continued, looking at Merlin fondly. At Merlin’s right, Gwen appeared, smiling at him as well. “We shall all of us hold him in the highest regard and treat him with the reverence he deserves.”
Merlin’s stomach lurched at the prospect of being treated so nobly. He knew Arthur wished for him to be recognised for his achievements—which was certainly nice, and Merlin appreciated it—but there was recognition, and there was worship. Merlin did not wish to be worshipped.
“If I may, Your Majesty,” Merlin began carefully, fighting off another wave of weakness from his earlier display. “Everything I do, I do for Camelot.” For you. “I’ve hidden my magic and served you all these years in the hopes that your kingdom would one day thrive and flourish as it has.” That you would one day thrive and flourish as you have. “To see the time of Albion and continue to serve you is reward enough for me.” Because I love you, you idiot. “As the knights are loyal to you and to Camelot without need of being held in the highest esteem, so too am I.” Hoping to end on a lighter note, Merlin added, “I would however like a raise. And my choice of days off.”
Merlin was relieved to hear the court and Arthur laugh. Arthur slapped him on the back, smiling broadly, and said, “I’ll see what I can do.” Merlin rolled his eyes, leaning heavily on his staff to hold himself up. “You’re all dismissed,” Arthur said, addressing the court. “Let the celebrations begin.”
People began leaving, and Merlin wished he could do the same. He wondered if he even had the energy left to teleport back to bed. But over the din of the masses, Merlin heard Doria’s voice.
How are you, my lord?
Merlin searched her out and found her eyes where he’d seen her last, back near the doors. It wouldn’t be any use lying when he knew anyone with magic could feel the toll it must’ve taken on him to cast that last spell.
Fatigued, but holding up, he replied honestly. Thank you. She nodded, and Merlin noticed that almost all the druids were staring at him in both awed admiration and sympathy.
Merlin took a shaky step down, and suddenly the knights who hadn’t yet left were swarming around him, congratulating him. Merlin fought against the dizziness and tendrils of black edging into his vision and tried to manage a smile.
It was Lancelot who came to his rescue, the only one who knew him well enough to sense the strain in his expression. “Give him some room, come on men, that’s enough,” he said, pushing them back. “So he’s got a bit of magic, big deal.” Lance looked over his shoulder and winked at Merlin. Merlin smiled at him thankfully.
“Alright, Merlin?” Arthur asked behind him, speaking into his ear.
Merlin resisted the urge to lean on him. “The last spell…”
“I thought you were going to shatter the walls of the castle. What of it?”
“It was a protection enchantment. Over the whole city. I’m just a bit drained is all.”
“For the love of—” Arthur waved over Osmund impatiently. The boy promptly came over. “Take Merlin to his new chambers.”
“New chambers?” Merlin asked, looking puzzled.
“The Court Sorcerer can hardly sleep in the antechamber of the King’s room meant for servants,” Arthur explained. With no one within earshot, he added, “Don’t worry, we’ll work it out.”
“I’m not worried about it not working out. Gwen and Lancelot manage, don’t they?”
“To the new chambers, Osmund,” Arthur directed again. “I’ll come for you myself when it’s time for the feast,” he said to Merlin.
Merlin’s sorcerer chamber was much farther a distance than Arthur’s, but once he arrived, he didn’t mind having to walk the extra bit at all. He’d been in this part of the castle before, even up to this tower before, but it’d been in disrepair and not nearly as lavishly furnished. Bookcases lined the walls now, with every magical text in the castle on the shelves. Merlin wondered how Arthur had convinced Geoffrey to part with them and allow them to be relocated here, but was too busy taking in the other details of the room to dwell on it too much.
It was mostly meant to be a study and workroom of sorts, Merlin saw, because the bed was placed against the leftmost wall, much the way Gaius’s pallett took up an insignificant amount of space. Meant only to be used on the occasions he’d be staying up late then, after being so absorbed in his work that any place to rest his head would do.
On top of that, every item of magic that had been locked away in the vaults had been brought up here—the Mage Stone, the Crystal of Neahtid, the Cup of Life—every little trinket, totem, and enchanted object that Uther had kept stored underground because it was forbidden. There were chests full of things, pedestals for the most sacred items, and by the window Merlin even had his own scrying bowl.
On the desk, Merlin found his old things he’d until then been keeping hidden in his room in Gaius’s chambers. His spellbook and bestiary lay underneath the carved dragon he’d received from his father, and Merlin wondered if Arthur had looked through them, had read the notes he’d made in the margins both in the common tongue and the language of the Old Religion. It’d been a breach of his privacy, but it was also a touching gesture.
He’d look through everything properly later, as he was too tired to now. He walked over to the bed and began undressing, jumping a bit in surprise when Osmund’s hands appeared to help him. He let the boy take away his clothes and fold them neatly on a square table beside the bed before he finally collapsed, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable the bedding was.
O===[]::::::::::::::::::>
Arthur felt all talked out by the time he went to get Merlin for the feast. He’d spent the day conversing with druid leaders, with townspeople who had magic and wanted to personally thank him, with nobles who claimed they’d always known something was special about Merlin, and countless others.
The druids praised him and wished him well with his endeavours to unite Albion, swearing their allegiance to both him and Merlin. They appreciated his questions about magic and the Old Religion, and responded enthusiastically, taking care to be thorough in their definitions. A rare few regarded him with a slight bit of disdain, clearly ones who believed Arthur should keep to the governing realm and let Emrys handle the magic, but they were civil enough. It certainly opened Arthur’s eyes to a few things, one of them being that not all druids were as peaceful as they were made out to be.
The townspeople varied as well. Some had come from villages more than a day’s ride away and some were from right in the lower city. Arthur was surprised at how many there were, and felt he couldn’t apologise enough for the strain and oppression they’d been under for so long. It was truly a burden that had weighed heavily on him, and had Camelot the resources for it, he would’ve given them all reparations without a second thought.
The nobles Arthur wanted to wipe away like horse shit on the bottom of his shoe. Not one of them knew a thing about Merlin, had more than once sneered at him or made jokes about him, and it disgusted Arthur that they would gush over him now. He was used to such falsities of the court though, and entertained them as long as he dared let himself before risking exploding.
Finally, he had excused himself as the food for the feast was being brought out. He took the shortcut through the servants’ corridor to Merlin’s tower and arrived quickly. He knocked on the door that only Merlin’s magic or his own personal key could unlock, then let himself in.
Merlin was draped across the low bed to the left, his chest rising and sinking steadily with each breath. Arthur closed the door behind him and knelt down, putting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and shaking him gently awake.
“Merlin.”
Merlin’s eyes opened and found Arthur’s. He blinked lazily, licking his lips, and raised a hand to rub his eyes.
“Already, huh?”
Merlin sat up and Arthur brushed down the sleep-tousled side of his hair. He wished he could let Merlin keep sleeping, but there were expectations to be met.
Arthur got to his feet and gave Merlin space to stand, looking around the room while Merlin dressed. The last thing he needed was to get aroused before having to go out in public again.
Arthur liked the room, really he did, but the amount of powerful magic in one place was very much like it had been in the tunnels beneath the Fortress of Ismere. The air crackled with energy and made his hair stand on end.
He walked over to the desk and picked up the wooden dragon, fingering the smooth texture. He’d wondered if Merlin would mind his having brought the item here, and hoped it had been seen as the gesture of goodwill it was intended to be. He didn’t know where the little dragon had come from or why it was important; he only knew that it had been hidden away with Merlin’s other personal possessions and therefore carried significance.
“Thank you for this,” Merlin said behind him. Arthur turned to see him fully dressed, just finishing up with his belt. He kept his eyes down, head lowered as he threaded the leather. “I know you haven’t completely forgiven me yet. I didn’t really feel I deserved it.”
Arthur crossed the room and picked up Merlin’s coat to hand it to him. The truth was that after hearing Hunith’s words that morning about Merlin being thrown into the situation so young—He’d been sixteen when he arrived in Camelot? No, seventeen—Arthur had found he couldn’t hold his grudge as long as he’d thought. He’d already been to war and taken entire lives by the age of seventeen, had led raids on druid camps and burnt villages to the ground because his father had ordered it. He’d wished for a chance to do things over, do them right, so many times himself. He had once promised a druid boy possessing Sir Elyan that he would do better toward his kind in future, and had been lucky enough for his apology to be sufficient. Merlin had also promised as much, and the least Arthur could do was extend the same courtesy.
“Perhaps Merlin didn’t deserve quite as much just yet, but Emrys certainly did. We’ve said enough thank you’s, I think, Merlin. Every night this past week you’ve told me all you’ve done since you arrived, and I think it’s more than enough to deserve forgiveness. We’re equal now.”
The Adam’s apple in Merlin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and nodded. His eyes looked eternally grateful, glistening with tears that he wouldn’t let fall. When he spoke, however, he tried to keep it light, to not acknowledge how deeply Arthur’s words affected him.
“Yes, I suppose that’s one thing I admit to always wanting. As long as I was a servant, there was no way you’d ever see me as an equal no matter how many times you said it. There was never anything special about me,” he finished with a wry smile.
Arthur felt stupid looking back at the referenced conversation now. Of course Merlin had felt he was ordinary in Arthur’s eyes if Arthur didn’t know the truth, how powerful he was, how truly special. Merlin had been going for light and brought out something heavy. It didn’t change anything, though.
“You’re wrong, Merlin. Your magic doesn’t make you special, it just explains you. Without it you’d mean just as much to me.”
“I can’t even imagine what I’d be like without it,” Merlin muttered. “I am magic.”
“Then don’t try to imagine it. Just know that it makes no difference in regards to my feelings for you.”
Merlin seemed surprised when Arthur leaned in to kiss him. Arthur hadn’t intended to himself, but his body appeared to be acting on its own desires. When their lips touched, slotting together and working perfectly in sync, Arthur’s body hummed in satisfaction. He pressed his chest close to Merlin’s and placed a hand on the small of his back.
The kiss changed entirely when Merlin raised his own hands to bracket Arthur’s face and force their lips harder together. With a flick of tongue he asked for entry into Arthur’s mouth and Arthur gave it to him, sensing his desperation. Merlin shoved his tongue inside and with a tilt of Arthur’s chin he was taking all Arthur gave, claiming what had always been his and what always would be. The powerful swirling of wet muscle made Arthur’s blood flow faster, and he fought the urge to push Merlin back on the bed and straddle him.
Shouldn’t be doing this, Arthur chided himself. Then Merlin pulled away, wild-eyed and with glistening lips, as if he’d heard Arthur’s thoughts.
“That’s the first time you’ve kissed me since you found out I’m Emrys.”
The statement seemed impossible. Arthur knew he and Merlin had been at odds before taking off for Ismere, but could it really be…?
Arthur kissed him again, this time throwing himself at Merlin as passionately as Merlin had at him. A thrust of Merlin’s hips had Arthur moaning at the pressure on his cock, and somehow he ended up being pressed against the desk, though when they’d traversed the room to meet it he had no idea. The next thing he knew, books were falling over and his legs were hitched up, wrapping around Merlin. Merlin’s hands slid under Arthur’s tunic, caressing up his back and pulling him closer, and Arthur was long past starting to get hard—he was almost completely erect and ready for Merlin to go down on him at this point.
“M-Merlin,” he panted. “The feast.”
Merlin groaned. He detached his lips from Arthur’s throat and stepped back.
“Damned feast,” he grumbled, magicking his discarded coat over to him.
Arthur chuckled. “Don’t worry. You can have me afterwards.”
Merlin grinned cheekily, and Arthur was happy to see the expression on his face again. He leaned in to nose at Arthur’s neck and said, “I was hoping you’d take me tonight, actually.”
Gods. Arthur forced himself to exhale slowly. The thought of taking Merlin, after seeing him display all that power earlier today, after seeing back in the Northern Plains what he could do, made Arthur want to have him right then and there. He’d never considered it much of a privilege being able to have Merlin that way, having always thought of Merlin as, well, just a man. The weight of what he’d been taking for granted for so long was staggering. He had to physically push Merlin away and break the contact.
“Let’s go to the feast,” Arthur said. “Now, before we never make it there.”
Merlin nodded and quickly went about straightening himself before putting on his coat. Arthur did the same, and made a mental note to have a mirror brought to the room later. They left as soon as they declared each other presentable.
If anyone noticed their slight tardiness, they were respectful and didn’t mention it. Tables were lined in rows in the hall and the windows were open to let in a bit of fresh air. There were more people than Arthur could count seated at each table, knights and druids and nobles alike together and having a good time.
Normally Arthur would stand at the head of the room, get everyone’s attention, and say a few words before letting them get back to eating, but he passed on it tonight. He could tell that Merlin had had enough said in his honour, and he himself was eager to have the rest of the required festivities out of the way so they could celebrate in private. Arthur took his seat next to Guinevere at the royal table and Merlin sat on his other side, doing well not to look too uncomfortable as a servant poured him wine.
It became easier to enjoy the time the more Arthur drank, just enough to have his worries pushed to the back of his mind. He laughed at the jokes he overheard his knights telling, rolled his eyes at Percival when next to him Gwaine took up with a druid woman who refilled his goblet with magic, and even stood up to make the rounds and ensure everyone was enjoying themselves. Gaius was thoroughly engaged in his food, always one for taking advantage of the more richer desserts served at feasts; Hunith was pink-cheeked and merry, constantly shooting pleased smiles Merlin’s way; and even the servants seemed to be having fun, more than a few of them taking offered sips from those they served.
When Arthur returned to Merlin, he was deep in conversation with one of the druid leaders who’d moved to sit at the corner of the table. Merlin was nodding and shaking his head at turns, but Arthur couldn’t hear a word of what they were saying; their mouths didn’t move in the slightest, as they communicated the way Merlin and Aithusa had. Most likely it was easiest to hear each other that way over the noise of the hall.
Merlin glanced at Arthur as he approached but didn’t take his attention away from the druid woman. Arthur took his seat again and pecked at his food, finding it significantly cooled. Beside him, Guinevere was talking with Lancelot, leaving him no source for conversation. He refilled his cup himself and took a long swig of wine.
The druid speaking to Merlin left not long after, and Merlin turned to face forward again. His left hand darted out to hover over Arthur’s plate, making Arthur start in alarm, but when smoke began to rise from the food, Arthur understood. He nodded at Merlin gratefully.
“What did she want?” Arthur asked.
“The druids brought gifts for me,” Merlin said around a bite of food. “You know the mark they all have on their skin? I don’t have one. She offered to have one of their ritualists mark me—”
“And you said?” The idea of Merlin’s skin being tattooed, being made as unique outside as it was inside, was one Arthur hoped would come to fruition.
“I’m going to think about it. I wasn’t born a druid or raised among them. It doesn’t feel right.”
Arthur kept his thoughts to himself and bit into his chicken. “The other gifts?”
“Magical totems and such,” Merlin said, waving a hand. “Objects of magic they’ve held safe since the Purge that they’d be honoured to see in my possession. Enchanted jewellery. A wife.”
Arthur nearly choked.
“They know about us,” Merlin said. “But they want to see my power passed down to an heir, even if I choose not to have the child raised here. Why is everyone asking me to have children lately?”
Arthur could sympathise with the pressure Merlin was being put under. He had a few clever schemes up his sleeve himself for when he felt the time was right. Lancelot was so noble and willing to serve that he didn’t mind the idea Arthur had once proposed, the four of them in a bed together. Arthur’s ideal situation would be for Merlin to fuck him from behind while his own cock was lodged inside Guinevere, Lancelot tending to her upper half for support. Arthur didn’t see why the same couldn’t be done in Merlin’s case—Arthur fucking him until he spent inside whatever druid woman ended up being his wife, or at the very least siring his child.
The trouble was that though Arthur had a fierce jealousy, he’d grown up in the royal court and knew the necessity of certain things, the sacrifices that had to be made. There was no such curtail to Merlin’s view of things, who would rather be infinitely loyal to Arthur and have the power inside him fade with his last breath than raise a child who didn’t have a drop of Arthur’s blood.
“You may change your mind later,” Arthur said carefully. “You never know.”
Merlin looked at him oddly but said nothing. Arthur changed the subject.
“How are you feeling? Are you well-rested enough?”
Merlin chuckled and nodded. “A few years ago I might’ve needed more time to recover but it seems I’m powerful enough now that my body can handle such a strain. It may have also helped just being in that room, surrounded by all the magic. It was very healing. I assure you I’m more than refreshed enough for the rest of the evening,” he finished with a wicked grin.
Arthur wished again that he could speak to Merlin without doing so aloud; there were more than a few things he’d say were it not for present company, and already that look Merlin was giving him was dangerous to do in public. Then, seeing the glint in Merlin’s eyes and the flush of his cheeks—not entirely due to wine—Arthur remembered that he and Merlin so rarely did need the use of words to communicate.
They didn’t stay much longer. There were a few minor displays of magic from the druids, to which Merlin responded with his own and earned applause for. He left shortly after that, teleporting and blinking out of sight to who knew where. Arthur hoped it was his chambers. He waited until a few of the knights began leaving to follow.
Osmund started to trail him to his room, but Arthur put a stop to that in the corridor. “I won’t be needing you until morning,” he said. He stopped and turned, looking the young lad up and down. It was remarkable how much his wide eyes and eager-to-please expression reminded him of Merlin at times. “And since this is your first feast, I’ll give you a bit of warning: don’t let any of the other servants try to put too much work on you when you’re cleaning up later. You’re the King’s manservant and you rank higher than all of them. If anything you pass off your duties.”
Osmund nodded and looked grateful for the information. “Yes, sire.”
“Goodnight, Osmund.” Arthur turned and hurried through the empty corridors to his chambers, waving away the guards in front of his door.
He could feel that Merlin was here the moment he stepped in. The atmosphere was different somehow, heavier. He took off his jacket and threw it over a chair, bent down and took off his boots, then walked round the drawn curtain of the bed to where he was certain Merlin was waiting.
He wasn’t disappointed. Merlin lay naked atop the red sheets, one leg bent at the knee with his foot on the bed, while he leisurely admired the flower Arthur had given to him weeks ago. The multicoloured petals shimmered in the light as Merlin spun it between his fingers, the stem as healthy green as ever. It paled in comparison to Merlin, however, whose lean limbs and muscled chest were bathed in a blue glow from the floating orbs above, lights the size of thumbnails that twinkled like stars. Arthur had never felt more drawn to him.
Merlin smiled fondly at him then put aside the flower and rolled onto his knees, moving to the side of the bed to fiddle with Arthur’s clothes. “Come on, then.”
Arthur raised his arms over his head as his tunic was pulled up with magic and Merlin undid the laces of his trousers. With the clothes cast aside, Merlin lay back on the bed, opening his legs invitingly. Arthur’s breath caught in his throat when he saw Merlin already had something lodged inside him.
“Where’d you dig up that old thing?” he asked.
The last time Arthur had seen the polished wooden dildo was years ago. It’d even been a joke between them at first, when Merlin had found it locked in a box beneath Arthur’s bed. Arthur had always taken the commanding position with his hired male partners before Merlin came along, because a Prince simply couldn’t submit. He’d satisfied those desires by himself. Merlin had teased him about it when he found out, then promptly teased in another way entirely after he offered to change things up in bed for the first time. For weeks after that, it’d been “Would you like my cock tonight, sire, or would you prefer your little wooden friend?” always accompanied by Merlin tugging on his dick tantalisingly in front of him.
Merlin grinned and reached down between his legs to pump it in and out a few times, inhaling sharply and shuddering when he caught the right angles. “It was still where I hid it last, back in your old Prince’s chambers,” he confessed breathlessly. “Can’t believe I didn’t—nngh—think of it before. I could’ve been getting myself all nice and st-stretched out for you for ages.”
Arthur leaned forward and pulled Merlin’s hand away, quickly pinning it above his head as he pressed his weight down on Merlin’s body. There was a flicker of doubt and uncertainty in Merlin’s eyes, just barely noticeable in the glow of the hovering lights inside the curtain.
It was just like him to guess the meaning behind Arthur’s actions, to wonder if Arthur really had forgiven him and if he wasn’t yet permitted to be so free with his words. Arthur rolled his hips once, sliding his hard cock against Merlin’s and grunting. Merlin’s lips parted and he shakily inhaled.
He pushed up and flipped Arthur on his back, and Arthur only let him because he could sense the desperation seeping through Merlin’s control. Merlin straddled him and pushed their lips together forcefully, running a hand up Arthur’s chest and then back down to take hold of Arthur’s cock.
“Arthur,” he gasped, rutting against Arthur’s thigh. “Please.”
Merlin wouldn’t say the words. Sometimes he’d ask—tell—Arthur to fuck him, to give it to him so hard he screamed, and sometimes he couldn’t. Arthur had long since figured out that those were the times Merlin needed just a bit more.
He grabbed hold of Merlin’s hair hard enough bring tears to Merlin’s eyes and yanked his head to the side. Merlin’s eyes squinted and his lips spread as he hissed at the pain. He panted and looked down at Arthur pleadingly.
“You think you’re so powerful, Merlin,” Arthur said, voice full of disdain. “You must think nothing can stop you when you possess animals at will and call down your dragons. You know what I think? When you throw your head back and roar in that language that sounds like absolute nonsense? I see your mouth go all wide and think you really ought to have something shoved in it. You’re just an ordinary man who happens to have a bit more magic than others. You really just belong on my cock, don’t you?”
Merlin made a high, whimpering noise in his throat and nodded. Arthur pulled on Merlin’s hair again, directing him downward.
“Get your mouth on my cock, you worthless idiot.”
Merlin lost no time doing as he was told. He settled between Arthur’s legs, arse raised high as he bent over him. He swallowed down Arthur’s dick and drooled over it, twisted his neck to run his tongue around the side before sliding back up and licking the tip. As soon as it was wet enough, Merlin bobbed up and down on it like he was starved for it, the muscles in his neck bulging with the enthusiastic effort.
“Fuck,” Arthur breathed and let his head fall back. The heat and suction of Merlin’s mouth was so good Arthur already felt heat building in his thighs. Every time Merlin slowed and twirled a sloppy tongue around the head, a spike of pleasure shot through Arthur, making him gasp and tense.
The moment Arthur was about to tell Merlin to stop—preferably before he came—Merlin pulled off and looked up at Arthur, eyes wild, lips swollen, and face flushed. His hair was in disarray from Arthur’s fingers and Arthur loved seeing him so wrecked.
“Face the headboard,” Arthur ordered before Merlin could say anything. Merlin turned and slid a hand under the pillows, bringing out the oil, then parted his knees as Arthur took it from him. Arthur raised himself up and had to admire the view of Merlin’s arse. The sloping curve of his back, from rounded shoulders to the dip of his spine, led beautifully down to pale cheeks and firm thighs. Merlin arched more, pushing back and begging wordlessly for Arthur to get on with it.
Arthur ran a hand up Merlin’s right thigh, over the swell of his buttocks and down to where the slick wooden rod was still keeping him open. Merlin clenched and unclenched around it as Arthur watched, teasing him. Arthur planted a hard smack to the left cheek, and Merlin put his face in a pillow and moaned.
Just a brief loss of touch for Arthur to open the phial of oil and put a bit on his cock, then he carefully started sliding free the instrument Merlin had plugged himself with. Gods, Arthur had forgotten how long the thing was, not to mention thick. It seemed to go on forever, and Merlin shuddered blissfully, sighing as Arthur pulled it out. When it finally popped free, leaving Merlin’s hole winking and stretched, Merlin grunted.
Arthur put a bit more oil around the rim, easily fitting two fingers inside as well. His cock twitched in anticipation. This was going to be one sloppy fuck, one Merlin so clearly needed.
He shuffled into position, aligning with Merlin’s entrance, and slowly pushed inside, letting Merlin’s heat envelope him. He was just over half buried when he slid out and thrust back in, shoving deep enough and hard enough to make Merlin gasp. Merlin spread his knees further apart and lowered his chest even more, raising his arms to grab hold of the headboard. It made his arse look so perfectly fuckable that Arthur gripped Merlin’s hips and started giving it to him in earnest.
“Oh! Oh gods, oh yes, ohhh!”
Arthur gave a forceful push, burying himself to the root hard enough to have Merlin keening and white-knuckled. He took his hands from Merlin’s hips and placed them on either side of Merlin’s body, leaning forward until he was close enough to breathe on the back of Merlin’s neck. He fucked Merlin in quick, shallow thrusts, relying on the muscles in his thighs to keep up a steady pace, and Merlin rocked beneath him, moaning and quivering.
Arthur had to slow after a while, take a few breaths and bring himself back from the edge. He trailed kisses up Merlin’s shoulder, over the divot in his back and across to the other one. Merlin lowered his arms, tucking them in, and rested his cheek on the pillow as he panted.
“Better?” Arthur murmured, nuzzling behind Merlin’s ear.
Merlin’s lips twitched in a slight smile. “Yeah. Needed this. After everything…”
He didn’t have to finish, and Arthur was glad he didn’t. After the lies, the time that had passed, the burdens, the adventures. Arthur had never seen Merlin look so relieved; not in sleep when his face lost all its tension, and not in the bath when he was most content. Merlin seemed to have reached some higher plane of happiness, and literally appeared to be glowing.
Arthur slid his arms under Merlin and hooked his hands over Merlin’s shoulders, lifting him up just enough so he could get a firm hold. Merlin moaned appreciatively at the shift, and reached back to grab a fistful of Arthur’s hair as Arthur started rocking into him again. Arthur wondered how much longer he could last, especially after Merlin made a low sound in his throat, saying, “Ahhh, fuck. Going to make me spend like this, Arthur.”
It was when Arthur felt something—something—on the back of his neck that his rhythm faltered. It was warm, and spread over his shoulders and down his back, like the feeling of wine working its way through his system. He wondered if it was the wine he’d drank earlier, but he hadn’t drank all that much. He felt it reach into chest, go down into his legs and the tips of his fingers.
“Merlin—”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin apologised breathlessly. “My magic, it… It’s always wanted to reach out for you, every time. Is it okay?”
It was more than okay. It felt like hands caressing him all over, like silk rubbing across every inch of his skin. On top of that, there was a distinct Merlin quality to it, cheeky and fond. It nudged between the cleft of Arthur’s arse, brushing over his hole and slipping the tiniest bit inside. The slippery tendril of warm magic felt so good Arthur worried he’d come right then, but something was keeping him right on the edge, not letting him finish until Merlin did.
“It’s perfect,” Arthur said. “I love it.”
His permission caused what felt like an inner explosion. The force of it was staggering. It pulled him toward Merlin like the tightening of a leash, and knocked the wind out of him. His vision went hazy and his body pulsated as Merlin’s magic flowed through him.
Then suddenly it was over, the tide of power having crashed over him and settled. Only there was something left over, some new knowledge that he’d been gifted with that let him look at Merlin and see him with entirely new eyes.
Merlin was happy. He was happy about his mother being in Camelot and Aithusa being under Kilgharrah’s protection, happy that Mordred hadn’t ended up being lost after all and that Arthur would live up to his destiny. He was happy that he’d killed Morgana and that Arthur knew about his magic so he could love him properly, happy that he could use it freely in front of Arthur and especially happy that Arthur was fucking him. He wanted to get on top and ride Arthur’s cock like a wild animal, though of course he had dignity and would show restraint. He wondered why he could suddenly feel all the same sensations Arthur felt and if Arthur could feel his—
“Oh!”
Merlin whipped his head around to look at Arthur with wide eyes. Arthur slowly pulled out and sat back on his heels, holding a palm flat to his chest where the heat was still the strongest.
“I think,” Merlin began, looking puzzled. He shook his head and started over. “I know that there are rituals for that sort of thing, but… I didn’t say any spells…”
“Merlin. What did you do?”
Merlin held his gaze steadily, breathing heavily as he leaned back on his elbows. “I think I bound our souls together.”
Arthur could sense Merlin’s worry, and even that Merlin could sense Arthur sensing it. He didn’t need to ask what being bonded together like this meant. He was attuned to Merlin the same way he always had been, only more acutely. He couldn’t hear what Merlin was thinking, but he could certainly feel what he was feeling.
Arthur moved to lay beside Merlin, back on the pillows. He jerked his head toward his cock, wordlessly telling Merlin to go on then. Merlin smiled and threw his leg over Arthur, sitting astride him and slowly sliding Arthur back inside.
“Nnng,” Merlin moaned, rolling his hips and letting his head fall back. He didn’t do slow and sensual for long, too eager to start bouncing and take Arthur’s cock at his own needy pace. There was more Merlin wanted to do (he wanted to anchor his hands and feet on the bed and slam down onto Arthur’s cock hard enough that it would hurt him to sit the next day) but he didn’t dare, and the thought of Arthur’s reaction alone made him blush. Arthur, however, now intimately aware of Merlin’s desires, sent the wordless message through their new connection encouraging him, no, telling him, to do it, to fuck himself with wild abandon and to hell with how he looked because he’d always look delicious to Arthur.
Merlin laughed. “Delicious?”
Arthur gave a punishing thrust upward. “Shut up.”
Merlin responded by sending Arthur images of himself, how he looked in the morning with the sun falling on his tanned skin and blond hair, his lips pouty in his sleep. How his hair stuck out in all directions but was endearing—not ridiculous—to Merlin, and how it made Merlin want to spend all day in bed with him. He thought Arthur looked a little delicious, too.
“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin.”
Merlin chuckled. He leaned back on his hands, triceps bulging with the effort to hold his own weight, and raised his legs to place his feet on either side of Arthur’s body. He lifted and lowered his hips frantically, panting and moaning at the new angle. His straight cock bobbed up and down with his drawn up balls, shifting with his movements.
“Oh, fuuuuuck,” he whined. He finally indulged himself and slammed down, the slap of flesh the loudest one of all in the past few minutes. His head fell back again, exposing his Adam’s apple, and he kept up the brutal motion of his hips, up, down, roll back, up, down.
“That’s it, Merlin, take it, fucking take it,” Arthur urged.
Every slight touch of skin against skin was heightened because of Merlin’s unintentional spell, so of course with Merlin’s pleasure added to his own, Arthur didn’t feel he could last any longer, and apparently neither did Merlin. He pushed himself up and wrapped his arms around Merlin’s torso, bringing their chests together. He held Merlin close as they both came, Merlin’s mouth stretching open in a silent scream while Arthur bit his lip. It was unlike anything Arthur had ever experienced, more intense and body-shaking than any orgasm he’d ever had, and he wondered if they’d all be like that from now on.
“Gods,” Merlin breathed, going limp and falling over Arthur’s shoulder. “My arse is done for about a week.”
Arthur thought about asking if his little bottom was sore, but Merlin’s slap to the side of his head kept him from opening his mouth. He laughed and carefully eased Merlin off of him to get a cloth from the washbasin.
Merlin was lying on his stomach with his head pillowed on his arms, twirling the flower in his fingers again when Arthur returned. Arthur was gentle as he wiped over Merlin’s abused hole, and now when he performed the action of care he could sense how loved and pampered it made Merlin feel. He thought about teasing Merlin about it, but then he realised that Merlin knew he liked doing it, liked taking care of him, so he let it lie.
“Here,” Merlin said, handing Arthur the iridescent flower. Arthur took it and studied the petals more closely. It’d been dying much slower than a normal flower before, but even then it should’ve been dead by now. The colours shouldn’t have been so vibrant, the petals not at all wilted.
Merlin had to have brought it back to life, or at least restored it from its last legs. Glancing at Merlin, who was smiling at him with glazed, tired, but loving eyes, Arthur felt instinctively that that was exactly what Merlin had done. He could feel Merlin’s magic in the flower, could identify its signature if he focused hard enough.
Arthur put it in a vase on the table then returned to the bed. The glowing orbs above had started going out one by one, until only three were left to let Arthur see by. He crawled beneath the duvet but left his arms out for the moment, still too hot to be under entirely.
Beside him, Merlin sighed contentedly. Arthur could feel the waves of relief rolling off him, how now he’d be able to wake up and not be assaulted with feelings of guilt, but could be happy without consequence. The soulbond would take some getting used to, but it was also the most perfect feeling in the world, the two of them becoming one.
“Candles, Merlin,” Arthur said tiredly, letting his eyes shut. Every candle in the room went out with a subtle flick of Merlin’s magic and Arthur prepared to let his body succumb to sleep after a long day.
Merlin yawned. “Do you really think about shoving your cock in my mouth when I cast dragonlord spells?”
Arthur chuckled. “I admit it was a passing thought.”
“I hope you know I’ll never be able to do them without thinking of that now.”
“Good.”
As Merlin sighed again and shifted closer to drape himself over Arthur, Arthur felt Merlin’s worries start to creep in. He took hold of Merlin’s hand and entwined their fingers, pressing into Merlin’s skin the sentiment that everything would be okay, better than okay.
They would be brilliant, as they were destined to be.