Archive of Our Own ^beta

Merlin woke up with a sharp gasp, air filling his lungs. Where was he? His eyes flicked to his hands, to the ceiling, to the floor, to the window - leaking light, to the wooden door and back to his hand, starting the process all over again. He heaved out heavy breaths. He was in his room. His breathing slowed down as he re-familiarized himself with the setting. It’s his room. 

Did Lancelot put him in here? The no-longer-cold, wet towel flops from his forehead to his lap. What happened again? He used his magic and passed out in the forest right? Did Lancelot take him back to his room? Ah- He would’ve seen the blood on the floor and bed. He’ll have questions but they aren’t necessary to answer unless they cause a scene.

Lancelot is too humble to do that sort of a thing. Merlin was glad he had a clean water bowl though, he felt like he had sweat out all the water from his body. He hasn’t slept that well, with no sort of nightmare obstructing a whole nights’ worth of sleep in the way, in a really long time. 

His arms felt bare underneath his jacket without the cuts. It irked him. Merlin had sweat out most of the fever. He took the cloth and dipped it back in the water before wringing it and wiping himself down with it.

His eyes felt heavy and stinged with a burn of yesterday’s tears; he assumed he cried himself to sleep or cried in his sleep and shrugged it off. He already began to feel weak, most likely not from the lack of the use of magic, but simply because his body and mind didn’t particularly enjoy living. 

Gaius wasn’t awake yet. Merlin thought it’d be easier to get up before in the mornings anyway, so he’d have time to actually do what he needs to. He kept on the same clothes - pulled on his boots and neckerchief, which he spent quite some time searching for. 

He left with nothing to eat, stomach hurting and went to the kitchens to get Arthur’s breakfast. The kitchen was rowdy at this time. Etta walked up to him. She said, “Boy-” and then took a large sigh. “Ya neeta look after yerself. Yer lookin’ better than ya did last week, but this ain’t much better. Yer haven't even joked in a while. I’m glad yer early rather than late though.” She said in a saddening tone.

It made Merlin want to bite through his cheek. “Sorry.” He said through gritted teeth. She gave a sad smile and a nod. “Here’s the king’s breakfast, his favourite. You can always tal-” Merlin took the tray and then the opportunity to leave before he had to speak more than a singular word not even 10 minutes into him waking up. 

He was really on-the-go today. He had got to Arthur’s room, shut the door and placed the metal tray down quietly.

He walked around to Arthur’s bed and stared for a couple moments. Arthur was faced away from him. He wasn’t snoring. Was he really asleep? He seemed still enough. Arthur’s neck was bare. Without realising, Merlin subconsciously reached to touch Arthur’s vein. He let out a soft exhale of relief. 

Suddenly, Arthur’s hand snapped up to Merlin’s wrist and he tried to pull it back as an instant reaction. Arthur quickly turned, “What are you doing?!”  Merlin’s wrist ached a little. “Waking you up.” Merlin whispered softly, throat a little raw. 

“You usually aren’t that quiet.” Arthur sighed, letting go. “You usually aren’t awake.” Merlin countered. Arthur let out a small smile, “What were you doing?” Arthur stretched his arms back, contorting his torso so it cracked before setting it straight again. “Waking you.” Merlin responded again. Arthur shot him a look that reeked of ‘I don’t believe you’. 

“How are you feeling after yesterday?” Arthur said, almost pitfully. How much did he know? Did he know he almost died? About what happened in the forest? Merlin’s eyes shot up to him. Arthur looked at him as if he was trying to read him. “What- What do you mean? Like- After you came back?”

Arthur tilted his head and looked off to the side before sliding his irises back to Merlin, scanning him. Arthur took a breath in, “In the evening.” What could have possibly happened in the evening? He doesn’t remember. He can’t answer something he doesn’t know anything about, surely. He could take an educated guess…

“B-Before- or after I served you dinner?” Arthur shook his head, “Later in the evening, I’d usually be asleep, but you said you had to do something before you came back - during my meal. You were gone for at least three candle marks (45 minutes) so I left my room to look for you and found you in the hallway.” damn it- damn it- damn it. His brain isn’t helping him at all!

Merlin chuckled nervously, “A-Ah.. did I tell you what I did?” Arthur opens his mouth to say something but closes it again for a couple moments. “You didn’t. Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. Are you alright now?” Arthur asks anyway. God, what on earth did Merlin do now? 

“D-Did I do something wrong?” Merlin asks, his heart managing to suffocate him while being in the pit of his stomach simultaneously. Arthur pauses again. Everytime Merlin speaks he analyses him and it’s honestly scaring the hell out of Merlin.

“Of course not. You’ve been amazing recently.” Merlin’s eyes widened and he let out a small smile and then a small laugh. “Really? You think so?” Arthur didn’t have to check him this time, he smiled brightly, “Yeah, you’ve been working really well. My armour’s been clean, the room's been tidy and you’re pretty much always around.” 

Merlin hesitates, Arthur doesn’t miss it. “Ah.. you’re just messing with me.” Merlin says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, his heart tightening.

Arthur raises a brow, but responds pretty quickly, “I’m being serious.” Merlin laughs, but Arthur can tell it’s fake. “Yeah, yeah. I know, I’ve been slacking.” Merlin speaks without actually looking at Arthur. Arthur watches Merlin fiddle with his sleeve, “No, you’ve actually got quite a lot done in a li-” 

Merlin interrupts him before he finishes, “I know, I get it. I’ll be better.” He says with a little tightness and a little strained laughter. 

Merlin takes out Arthur’s clothes and continues, “You don’t need to have this whole round-a-bout, passive-aggressive way of telling me to do better.” Arthur’s eyes never leave Merlin. Arthur thinks for a few moments. “You weren’t well for a while, so I’d say you did pretty go-” Merlin drops the clothes onto the floor and turns to Arthur.

 “You can stop now. I wasn’t sick. I was fine. Perfectly fine.” Arthur’s brows furrowed. “Merlin you had a really bad cough and fever almost every-” 

“I said I wasn’t sick! I’m perfectly capable of being your manservant!” Arthur’s eyes etch Merlin’s every move into his brain; remembering, thinking. Talking about his sickness = You calling him incapable of his job. Talking about how well he’s doing for longer than a sentence = you’re mocking him. Consolidation makes him agitated. 

“I never said that you weren’t.” Arthur said calmly while Merlin was growing more and more irritable by the second. “That’s all you’ve said!” Arthur retraces his words and he really hasn’t, “When?” 

Merlin stayed quiet for a few moments, “It was implied.” He seethed out. Arthur spoke like Merlin wasn’t upset, if he spoke to him sweetly, Merlin would think he’s pitying him and go silent. If he was snarky, Merlin would think he’s done something wrong and go wallow about all his mistakes he ever made. 

So he spoke like it was a completely normal conversation, no snarky comments and no sweet tone, but a mild tone and flat statements. Straight to the point. “I was being sincere. Excuse me if I offended you.” Merlin hesitated.

What on earth happened yesterday? Why was Arthur being so calculating? Merlin stopped. Is he under a spell? They’ve had no outside visitors. Could it be the Dryad?

All of a sudden Merlin did a 360, throwing Arthur off. “How are you feeling?” Merlin said, full of concern. Arthur raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. “Fine, why?” Merlin picked up the clothes, throwing them on the bed before pressing the back of his hand to Arthur’s forehead. “What are you doing, Merlin? I said I’m fine.” 

Merlin ignores that, “We haven’t had any outside visitors, right?” Arthur nods, not being able to follow Merlin’s thought track. Merlin couldn’t find a reason to speculate yet. He sighed, defeated. 

“What is it?” Arthur asked. Merlin shook his head, “Nothing.” Merlin lifted Arthur's shirt off his head and placed the new one on. “I’ve been thinking.” Merlin hums, signalling him to continue as he hands Arthur his pants and other garments. Arthur goes behind the barrier. “You don’t get days off, do you?” Merlin freezes. 

He hesitates, “You don’t either, sire.” Arthur grumbles, pulling up his pants, “Yeah well, I’m the King. I’m sure you could have a fill in for a couple days if you were to have a break-” Arthur says, Merlin disagreeing before he can barely end his sentence,

“No! I mean- n-no. It’s alright. I like my job.” Arthur sighs, “But you could have some time for yourself.” Merlin immediately responds, “I don’t want that.” Arthur’s eyes read Merlin over again as soon as he steps past the border. “You should. It’s good for you.” Or maybe he just doesn’t want Merlin. 

He wants to know what his new servant would be like once he fires Merlin for something stupid, like insolence or lack of ability. Ah- Merlin’s not planning to be around much longer anyway, is he? Maybe it’s a good thing for Arthur to get used to a new servant. Merlin can also see how Morgana could protect Arthur then. He’d have to bring that up.

“Maybe. Only if you keep Morgana around though.” Arthur flinched and quickly turned his full attention to the conversation. “Why Morgana?” He asked a little too quickly. It’s not like Merlin can just say, ‘So she can protect you with her illegal magic secretly.’ 

So instead he said, “I want her opinion on your new servant. Even if it’s just George, she doesn’t know him well. She’s more fit to choose a servant than you; she can dress herself without having to have a servant fix any of her clothing or hair. You wouldn’t know the difference between a servant dressing you like a king and a fool.”

Arthur scowled bitterly, “What makes you say that? I’m dressed just fine now.”. Merlin walks up to him, pulling him forward by his pants, no foul intentions. Merlin pulled Arthur’s pants a little higher, tying them and fixing his shirt.  “All better.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Fine. When would you like your day off? It’ll just be a test, so pick it between the next week - just to see how it is.” Merlin nodded with a hum, thinking over it for a second.

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Merlin sat alone in his room after making the quick and derelict decision to not muck out the horses, but to use magic to make a magic spell book for someone in camelot’s court, who was not supposed to have magic too. 

He planned to just give her the grimoire he had, but quickly realised many, if not all, of these spells may not be able to do much during a battle - most of his magic and spells were instinctual. The idea caught his mind when he was in Arthur’s room and found a completely empty, chunky notebook - way bigger than the spell book he owned.

Getting his hands on a clean notebook that was even just a little bigger than his current spell book was going to be tricky, especially since he had less than a singular coin to his name. He could ask Gaius…. But he knew how that was going to go:

----------------------

Gaius looked at Merlin with a displeased scowl and a raised eyebrow, “Why would I give you coin for a notebook? Paper is extremely expensive as is, Merlin. And quite frankly, we need food on the table.”

Merlin nodded with a sad sigh. He could ask Arthur - after he did his job… but that might not go so well either…:

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Arthur looked at Merlin ludicrously. “You want coin?” He asked, confusedly. Merlin nodded his head once, not really looking at Arthur, his eyes just following the cracks of the floorboards. “From me?” Merlin felt unsure of this now, he was definitely going to be ridiculed. He bit the inside of his mouth and nodded slowly, taking a quick glance at Arthur. “Why? Don’t you get your own coin?” 

Merlin fidgeted a little. “Uh- This job doesn’t pay me coin, it’s worth is uh- housing; the antechamber I don't use, food, the castles’ protection, it being an honour to work here etcetera. Gaius doesn’t pay me because he’s my great uncle and all, and I'm living with him and he feeds me and things.” Merlin said nervously, to the floor rather than Arthur. 

Arthur was doing that thing he was doing this morning again, like he was trying to comprehend Merlin’s very soul. “Why don’t you ask him for coin?”

Merlin thought, maybe it would be easier if he just left it alone. “I did. He said no.” Arthur’s brows furrowed and he tilted his head slightly, “He refused? Why?”  Merlin scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat, “It’s too expensive.” he whispered out. “Too expensive? What are you trying to buy?”

“A notebook or two.” Arthur raised his eyebrows, “What for?” Merlin hesitated, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. He’ll just give Morgana his book and talk to her, while writing down a couple spells on the back of physician pardons for Mordred. He sighed, “Nevermind, I’ll find something else.” 

“If you tell me what it’s for, I'll give you the coin you need.” Merlin’s face twisted. “It’s okay.” Arthur got more and more confused the more this conversation continued. “You don’t want to tell me?” Merlin could sense the upcoming confrontational conversation and decided to make his break for it. He talked and moved rapidly, like he was in a rush all of a sudden. 

“No- no- of course not. I just remember Morgana wanted to see me, so I’m going to go attend to her and you know.” He said, all while nervously laughing and making his way out of the room.

He shut the door behind him, all to Arthur’s protests of course. He made his way to his room, took his spell book and a scrap piece of paper he found on one of Gaius’s desks and made his way to Morgana’s room.

“Merlin! It’s so good to see you! How are you?” Gwen said with a large smile. Merlin nodded quietly saying, “I’m good, thanks. Is Morgana in?” Gwen furrowed her brows but agreed anyway, “Yeah she is.” Her eyes flick between Merlin and behind her momentarily, “Would you like to come in?” Merlin nods, as Gwen steps back to let him in. Merlin offers a quick thanks, pulling the book out of his jacket.

Merlin gestures towards Gwen when she had not been looking, so Morgana could effectively send her away. Morgana smiles when her eyes meet with Merlins’ , “Ah Merlin! I haven’t seen you in a while- Uh- Gwen, is it okay if you would leave us be for the time being?” Gwen quickly becomes more confused, looking between Merlin and Morgana, but agreeing and leaving anyway.

“So what’s that?” Morgana asked, leaning back on the table Merlin was standing at. Was he really going to let go of this? Merlin breathes out slowly, “I need to speak with you… seriously.” Morgana gives a concerned look, standing and pulling out a chair to sit on. “Please, sit.” Merlin follows respectively, placing the book down and rubbing the back of his neck.

“I want you to protect Arthur for when I’m not here.” Morgana’s eyes widened. “Why wouldn’t you be here? Are you planning on going somewhere?” Merlin hesitates, “I- Arthur wants me to take days off. He thinks- He thinks it’s better for me.” Morgana’s jaw falls. 

Her eyebrows pinch as she falls elegantly on the chair, “What?! But- But you’re his manservant.” Merlin nods, taking the seat beside her. “Not all the time- anymore..” Merlin says through a strained voice. 

“Oh Merlin… are you alright?” She asks sadly.

Merlin shook his head and waved his hand, shaking it off, “It doesn’t matter. When I’m not there you have to protect Arthur. Please.” Merlin said, looking at his lap. “I mean, of course, b-but how? I’m not nearly as strong as you- and- and- I can’t- I’m not around him all the time!” She fought back validly. 

Merlin pushes the spell book forward, “These spells will be useful, Gaius has a lot more on magical creatures too. Most of my spells are instinctual, so the Druids will have to teach you more. How is that going?” She nodded, “Very well, I have a lot more control over my magic and I find it easier to use, I learn healing spells mainly though.” 

“Make sure to use it carefully, if you are. I asked Arthur to have you around tomorrow because you’ll be the one to see if some other guy, probably George - but pretend you don’t know him, is good enough.” Merlin said, folding himself closer to the chair with a huff. 

Morgana smiles sadly, “Ah, I see. I’ll make up some excuse about not trusting them or George and ask Arthur to keep me around whenever you have days off. He’ll tease me, but I guess it’s worth it.”

“It is.” Merlin says, sternly. Morgana nods, laughing nervously, “Of course, of course.”

Now all that was left was to get Mordred to be aware.

Merlin was looking for him, but he really couldn’t find him. He’d looked everywhere; the knight’s chambers… that was pretty much it. But it was a lot of effort! Where are you, Mordred? Merlin asks, regretfully, while still storming around the castle. Me and the knights are just coming back from the training field. 

Do you need something? Merlin makes his way back to the Knight’s chambers and sighed, looking at the size of the stairwell. Come to your room. 

Merlin knew it felt a little personal, but it was the best option for privacy. Mordred was panting when Merlin saw the view of him, peeking out from the side of the steps. He obviously ran here, ahead of the knights. “I need to talk to you.” Merlin said a little coldly. 

Mordred looked up from his hunched position, hands gripped on his knees. He heaves his breaths as he builds himself back up again and squares his shoulders before unlocking the door with the keys on the side of his hips.

“Excuse the mess.” Mordred said as Merlin walked into his perfectly clean, practically sparkling room. Merlin knew Mordred wouldn’t take something like this for granted, he’d slept on mats and pelts over the forest floor his entire life - this must be a lot for him. Merlin sighs thinking about the state of his room. He should clean it before he dies. 

“Please, sit.” Mordred says, kindly, gesturing to the bed. It was a little better than Merlin’s, not by much though. Merlin sits uncomfortably - knees put together tightly, barely even sat on the bed. “You know Morgana has magic.” 

Mordred nods in agreement, “Yes, I do.” Merlin breathes out slowly. “I might have to go somewhere for a while, depending on the circumstances.” Mordred nods again, in understanding. “Yes- but what does this have to do with me?”

“I’m getting there. I want- I want you to watch her carefully. I don’t want her to use her magic in the wrong way. I want you to protect Arthur and Morgana as much as possible and make sure Morgana’s magic is not a hazard to Arthur.”

“You think Morgana would try to hurt Ar-” Mordred says in utter disbelief, but Merlin stops his conspiracy theories. 

“No. She’s a new magic user and she might lash out. I’m saying completely different things. I trust Morgana. And right now… I’m trusting you to care for her, guide her and help her - all if need be.” Mordred nods again, attentively. “I- I understand, you can trust me with this Emrys, I promise!” 

Merlin looks down and then at Mordred, determinedly, “I hope I can.” Mordred looked like he was going to blow up out of happiness, so Merlin took it as his cue to leave. He subtly placed the folded piece of paper with 5 spells on it under his thigh and patted Mordred’s shoulder as he stood up. He waved goodbye as Mordred thanked him for believing in him. 

As Merlin made his way through the corridor, the world began to feel blurry and Merlin felt blind again. He stumbled around, ignoring everyone until he wound up alone in the physician’s room. Gaius wasn’t here. Where was he? 

Merlin staggered into a table, dropping things as walked around. He should clean his room. He tripped up the stairs, bombarding into his room. He looked around for less than a moment and immediately sighed. Start with the bed.

He stripped all the extra cloth off of his bedding and dumped it into the bucket of clean water from this morning. He simply dropped every single article of clothing in there, hoping it would manage. It didn’t really. Merlin worked with it anyway. He found a half empty bottle of cleaner downstairs. The world wouldn’t let him die with something as simple as that. 

He emptied most of the bottle into the bucket, leaving a little under half of the remains and sloshed it around for a bit. He left it in a corner and he gathered all the dirt into his chamber pot which reeked of dried blood and crusty vomit. He’d have to purge it.

He got all the glass and screwed up papers and threw it inside of there. He picked up all 23 books from his floor and neatly returned them downstairs. He was cleaning. He was cleaning, godammit. He needs to get it done. 

He can’t be a burden to those who cared for him when he’s dead. He stole Gaius’s clothes wringer and pressed all his materials through it, the wetness spilling onto the dirty, sticky, moulding floor.

He’d have to get Arthur’s dinner soon. There was no time for any of that. He neatly folded all of the damp clothes on his damp bed. He wasn’t going to let it dry, it’ll do that by itself by the time people notice his room is clean anyway. He placed all the folded items into the small cupboard. 

All that's left was scrubbing the floor. Nobody would look at the neatness of his night stand. He moved the chamber pot to the corner of the room. Using more of the supplies he stole from Gaius. He scrubbed the floors with a brush and spilled the rest of the disinfectant over the already wet floor. His shins were soaked but he scrubbed the soapy foam either way.

He worked his way into the floors and the dirt and the mould and the blood. He used a dry towel to wipe it all up. It didn’t look half bad. What even was he without magic? This room was so wet with moisture it would start growing mould and mushrooms. Fine. He’d use the damn magic. He pictured red lines running through the floors and the blankets and the corners of the rooms.

“Calidum.”

He whispered under his breath. While he was at it…

“Praeveho.”

He really couldn’t help but be the monster he always was… right? It had always come natural to simply be.. a bad person. A tear ran down his cheek. The chamber pot floated in the middle of the room. He emptily whispered the next word.

“Ustulo.”

He sighed as he slid down to the floor, holding his nose so he wouldn’t have to smell his own vomit and blood burning as a room inscent. When there was nothing left but ash, which Merlin rubbed into the floor to hide, Merlin whispered a few more words guiltily,

“Reponere mali odoris.”

But as he said so, all he could smell was Arthur. All of a sudden his entire room smelled like Arthur. He would have blushed at his innocent mistake. Instead he let off a small sad smile. Would this be the last time he’d ever smell Arthur? No. He wanted to see him, just once. Just once, before it was all over. One last time. 

He didn’t want to make a sad note for people to wallow over. All they would get was the finality that Merlin had never really lived and will never really live. Merlin had been so stuck in his own head, the only cuts he currently had on his now were on his forearms. He’d make sure that changed tonight.

Merlin took a shaky breath, standing up, shaking his wrists a couple times to lose any nerves. Ah- his room still smells like Arthur. One last spell. Merlin imagined a mist of pink and pictured lavender flashing in his head

“Effluo florum odorem.”

He let his eyes flutter open and shut and then went to open the window. It was a little stuffy with the scent of flowers now. Okay. He needs to see Arthur. But what will he say to him? He sits on his bed tightly, in his empty, clean room. 

At least he can die with the relief that he left his room tidy. Unfortunately, he can’t have the relief of dying in the same way; clean and well-kept. Someone like him wouldn’t get time to do such things, especially on a working day. He’s glad he has a day off tomorrow, the funeral bells can toll for him with his schedule being clear.

 The wooden door slams open. Arthur pants heavily, resting his body against the doorway. “Where have you been?! You were supposed to serve me dinner 4 candle marks ago (an hour)?!”

Merlin doesn’t stir, he just sits like a doll on the edge of his bed. He doesn’t even notice the man at his door. “Merlin! …why is it so clean here? It- It even smells nice.” He says suspiciously. “Merlin?...” 

Merlin doesn’t move. He still hasn’t noticed the man screaming at him, but his head snaps up when something softly holds his forearm. “Merlin..?” a hushed whisper says. He hears- he smells Arthur. His vision stayed unclear, but he knew who it was. Now he was here, what was he supposed to say? Thank you? I’m sorry? I’m a sorcerer?

“Are you okay?” Merlin nodded automatically, before Arthur had even finished speaking. He took a deep inhale and soft exhale as everything came into focus little by little. “Arthur..” he whispered under his breath. Arthur nodded. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Well done. Where have you been, Merlin?” Arthur says, almost fragile - like Merlin is a child. Merlin thinks for a moment. “Here?” He asks, as if it’s Arthur that’s meant to know the right answer. Arthur nods slowly.

“You were meant to bring me dinner, remember?” Arthur says gesturing to the open window to signify the time. Merlin was sure it was sometime in the early morning, mentally. Physically, he knew that was impossible. 

The open window was making him cold. Arthur noticed Merlin getting caught too long in the window, like yesterday. And then he walked off. To stop the repeat, Arthur softly placed his hand under Merlin’s jaw and slightly pushed it to face him. Merlin tilted his head into it slightly.

“Merlin?” 

Merlin hummed in response, as if Arthur hadn’t even asked him a question. “You- You should go to sleep.” Merlin thought about it for a second. He shook his head. “I have to-” 

Out of nowhere Merlin stated,. “You think magic is evil.” It wasn’t a question - like last time. How long ago was last time? Arthur’s eyes widened a little bit. Merlin was in such close proximity - less than the span of his wrist to his fingertips… and he was asking about this? 

“For the most part. Not- not every sorcer- mm- I’m not quite sure. I don’t hate it and actively purge it if it isn’t an issue to me. But I don’t believe it is quite as beautiful as you and Morgana do.” 

Merlin took a step forward - closing the gap between the two, little to no space left. He placed a hand on the blonde’s cheek and Arthur blushed in the yellow light, seeping in from the open shutters. Merlin’s head stayed at a tilt, his eyes innocent,

“Do you think I’m beautiful?”

He asked softly. He asked as if he was unsure himself. But nevertheless, he asked anyway. Arthur stammered, the tips of his ears blushing,

“I- Mer- Merlin you’re a man!”

He pointed out, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“So I’m not?”

Merlin said, not as if he was hurt, but as if he was a little dazed with confusion.

“We- Well… I guess- if there- if there was a man, to be described as… beautiful… it should be you.”

Arthur said, it spilling out of his brain straight to lips, without really thinking about it. Merlin wasn’t being particularly observant but he could see the way Arthur’s thought track panned out as he continued. Merlin nodded.

“Would you kill me?”

Arthur felt his stomach churn. Was Merlin mental? Did he want to die? Did he want Arthur to kill him? How can Arthur help him? He held his hand in one and his face in the other. He whispered his next words, sadly. Merlin hated the way Arthur spoke to him.

“Don’t think such ludicrous things! I could never! Never, ever in my entir-”

“And if I were a sorcerer?”

And then, Arthur struck out.

“Huh?” Barely escaped, pushing past his lips. Merlin had a small innocent smile. His eyes reflected a child's nature, but as soon as Arthur didn’t know what to do the words spilled out of Merlin like the blood would - leaking and seeping through his skin, bones bare, showing Arthur his insides and whatever was left of his barren soul.  

“Would you put me on the pyre if I were a sorcerer? Would you make some random man chop my head off? Would you watch from the balcony or would you be next to me? Would you ever think to do it yourself? If I had mag-”

“Stop talking.” Arthur said coldly, a few tears quietly spilling down his face. Merlin just kept his head tilted with a small noise of confusion. “Don’t cry.” Merlin sweetly said, wiping away Arthur’s tears. He desperately wanted to ask ‘Would you cry like this when you find me missing in the next morrow?’, but he didn’t. Arthur would be happier without him. 

Merlin put Arthur’s head in the crook of his neck, “You don’t need to cry, Arthur.” Merlin whispered, swaying his body a little. Arthur wasn’t even silently crying nor ugly sobbing like Merlin had been doing the day prior, it was just a slip of a few tears at the idea of Arthur casting Merlin away like that and how far Merlin’s insanity had reached. 

Arthur whispered back, scratchily,  “I’m glad you aren’t- a sorcerer.” Merlin tensed a little, making more finality in his decision. “I wouldn’t be so torn on what to do.” The blonde cracked out. 

Merlin knows what to do, how to ease Arthur - so he doesn’t even have to make a decision. 

“We should ready you for bed, it’s getting late.” Merlin said. He decided to do his job one last time. He pushed Arthur back a little, sliding his palms down his arms and holding his hands. He let go of one and walked out of the room, leading him to Arthurs’

“M-Merlin? Are you sure you want to get me ready for bed?” Merlin nods confidently, swinging the physician’s room door open and walking to Arthur’s room with speed. “S-Slow down! What’s the rush?!” 

Merlin assumed the quicker he did this, the quicker he could die, the happier Arthur would be, but slowed down with the realisation that Gaius would be back soon and he would have to wait for Gaius to fall asleep before doing anything.

He sighed tiredly and slowed down. “I just want you to get a good night's rest, Sire.” Upon entering Arthur’s room, it was clean. As clean as his. Nothing to do, but put Arthur to bed. Merlin bit the inside of his lip. Okay then. His breath quickens slightly as he gets Arthur’s clothes. Calm down. He slowly pulled Arthur’s shirt upwards.

He slowly put Arthur’s night shirt on him. Their eyes met as Arthur’s head pushed past the neckline. “You’re a great king Arthur.” Merlin whispered, helping his arms through the gaps. “Thank you.” He whispered back. “You’re an amazing manservant.” 

Merlin lets out a small smile, handing Arthur his pants and Arthur recedes behind the border. “I’m just a man, Sire. I do what I can.”

The night goes smoothly. Arthur goes into bed. Merlin hangs around a little longer than he should’ve. Merlin ignores Gaius and says his goodnights. He relapses - not like there was much time between the last one anyway. He waits till he hears snoring and then he slowly creeps out of his room.

He assesses the shelf of fragile, little glass bottles. He picks up the darkest one. The skull was a dead give away that it was poison. He slid it up his sleeve, almost knocking the other bottles as he pushed past the other ones - a clumsy fool till the day he dies. 

He looked back to Gaius who had stopped snoring momentarily. When the snoring continued after Gaius repositioned himself - Merlin tense, he left.

He left everything. He left his room, the Physician’s Chambers, the hallways, the castle, the upper town, the lower town. He left Gaius and Arthur and Lancelot and Gwen and Morgana. He left his mother. He had left Ealdor a long time ago. Now sitting in the middle of nowhere in the forest, he was leaving his life. He left everything.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he stared at the small black bottle in his hand. Why was he hesitant? He wanted this so badly. He’s tasted it so many times: death barely scraping the tip of his tongue. Nobody is here to save him this time. Nobody can save him this time. Don’t smell it. That’s what Gaius always says. Don’t smell it.

He popped open the cork with one hand, plugging his nose with the other. He watched the cork fall to the forest floor and the liquids slosh in the glass. He took a deep breath out. 

1, 2, 3… Merlin pressed his lips on the soft glass, throwing his head back - liquid pouring into his mouth and burning down his throat. This could be worse. It could be worse. His eyes burned, leaking tears as the bottle emptied and he threw it to the side, coughing for air.

Now to wait. It hadn’t even been two minutes and Merlin could feel his entire body numbing and a horrific gargling pain in the visceral depths of his body. His tears ran like hot lava and he had curled in on himself. 

He was sure his stomach was eating itself, it would be less painful to dissect it himself and attempt to digest it. But he didn’t have the heart for that. Not a working one at least. 

Blood spewed from his mouth and he clutched the ground in pure agony. He wanted to scream out and cry in pain. He wanted to sob for his mistakes and pity his life in a shriek. All that came out was a disgusting noise of his blood wrapping its hands around his airways. 

He thrashed violently on the floor, talking to himself - ‘You deserve this’ he had said over and over and over. Then, he’d die here alone. No family. And certainly no friends.

As the blood spewed upwards from his mouth, splattering back onto his skin as he writhed in agony, it burned through his flesh like made of poison itself - burning into his pores. Merlins thoughts started to mush into each other - the self-depreciative slander turning into suicidal silence. 

A hole burned through his throat, flooding red. Any blur of vision he had left cascaded in a perpetual darkness. All the lights burned out.

I’m sorry Arthur. I’m sorry now - not just because of being a sorcerer, but because I wasn’t good enough to be your manservant. To be your anything.