Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Despite Arthur’s certainty that nothing would change after the sorcery revelation, the dynamic between them did shift. It was neither good nor bad, Arthur told himself, but different.

It was as though Merlin no longer knew how to act around Arthur. He was hesitant to use sorcery around Arthur, although Arthur made it clear he no longer had qualms with magic. He caught Merlin bowing more than once, not in irony, which seemed to confuse them both. Once, Arthur walked in on Merlin using magic to polish his armor, and Merlin had stopped abruptly, muttered something about needing to ‘help Gauis with herbs’, and rushed out of Arthur’s room. 

Merlin was clearly avoiding him, and after so many years side-by-side, Arthur was surprised to discover that he missed Merlin’s easy company.

“Merlin,” Arthur said one night. He lay in his bed with a book, but he’d read the same paragraph six times now, so he set it to the side. 

Merlin was tidying the room. Without magic, Arthur noted. The only sound was the crack and hiss of the fire. 

Merlin didn’t turn from where he was folding clothes, deft fingers smoothing the linen. His dark hair sparkled in the firelight. “Sire?”

“Merlin, for gods’ sake.” Arthur snapped. He clenched his fists, surprised at his own annoyance. 

Merlin turned but Arthur’s gaze. “Have I done something, sire?”

“Have you done something?” Arthur shook his head. He swung his feet off the bed. “Have I done something? You’re…avoiding me.” He finished lamely.

Merlin studied the fireplace. Arthur could almost hear the wheels of his mind turning. He longed to hear Merlin’s thoughts just now, to see what it was like in his head, to intimately know any worries that plagued him and soothe them away. His eyes roved across the sharp line of Merlin’s jaw and his high cheekbones, made steeper by the shadows. 

Beautiful , Arthur thought, then banished the idea.

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice was barely a whisper.

Merlin’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and he finally spoke. 

“You say you’ve no problem with sorcery,” he spat, “yet magic remains illegal in Camelot. If your acceptance applies only to me, your majesty , I want no part of it.”

Arthur’s mouth opened, but any response died in his throat. In that moment, his world tilted on its axis, and he realized Merlin was right.

“Good evening, sire.”

Arthur’s stomach churned as he was left alone with only his horrible, hypocritical thoughts for company.

…

The next day, Arthur woke with the sun. Merlin was nowhere to be found, which Arthur tried to take in stride. There were tasks he must accomplish today, and Merlin would get in the way. That’s what he told himself as he dressed, anyway.

Arthur’s first act of the day was to call an emergency council meeting. None of the council grumbled about being fetched at this early hour, which Arthur appreciated, but he could tell many of them would rather still be asleep. 

“I understand the hour is early. This meeting will be brief.” 

The council looked quite happy.

“The time has come,” Arthur continued. “To strike down my father’s ban on sorcery.”

There was a shocked moment of silence before the table erupted into a cacophony of questions.

Arthur allowed the noise for a moment before he held up a hand, and they silenced. “Your concerns are valid. Fortunately, I know a sorcerer who can address many of your questions, and provide counsel on any restrictions that should be in place.”

The chatter around the table began anew at that revelation. Arthur started to relax. He hadn’t been sure how the council would receive this proposition. A few older members seemed outraged, yes, but the majority simply seemed concerned about the welfare of Camelot. 

Leon, to Arthur’s right, caught his eye, and Arthur was suddenly sure that Leon knew exactly which sorcerer he meant. 

Leon leaned close to Arthur. “You’re certain your intentions are for the good of Camelot, and not, well…for him?”

Arthur glared at Leon, but that didn’t stop the flush from creeping up his neck. Briefly, he wondered just how many in the castle thought he had more-than-friendly affections for Merlin. Arthur pictured Merlin as he’d looked last night, tormented and glowing in the firelight, and felt only a fierce desire to protect him. He met Leon’s eyes.

“Since I took the throne, there have been many decisions I’ve regretted, and many more of which I felt unsure. But this, I am certain, is the correct choice.”

Leon nodded once, satisfied, and they both returned their attention to the council.

…

Arthur, once again, could not find his gods-damned manservant. He’d checked his rooms, the kitchens, the physician chambers (Gauis was also missing), the armory, and Merlin was nowhere to be found. 

When he finally checked the training yard, he found Gwaine, slashing at a training dummy. 

“Gwaine, have you seen Merlin?” 

“Oh yes,” Gwaine said without halting his attacks. “He invited me to the tavern this morning, but I declined and told him he shouldn’t slack on his manservant duties.”

“Gwaine!” Arthur stomped up to Gwaine and poked an angry finger into his chest. “Tell me where he’s really gone, and that’s an order.”

Gwaine, panting, dropped the sword and raised his hands. “Woah, Arthur, I’m serious—Well, not about the duties part. I always encourage weekday dalliances.” He winked. “But he did ask me to the tavern. What’s gotten into you? Lovers’ quarrel?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Why does everyone think Merlin is my—something other than my servant!”

“My friend, I am not answering that.”

…

After shoving Gwaine around for his blatant disrespect (although the other man won their tussle), Arthur marched down to the tavern to look for Merlin for the second time in two weeks. 

There were quite a few patrons in the tavern enjoying their midday break, so it took Arthur a moment to spot Merlin where he sat alone at the end of the bar. 

No…not alone, Arthur realized. He leaned close to a man Arthur had never seen. A quite handsome blond man. Their heads were tucked together. They each held a tankard, and as Arthur watched, Merlin giggled—actually giggled!—at something the other man said. 

Arthur, brows furrowed, stalked over to Merlin. When he finally noticed Arthur, his face broke into a blinding smile. 

“Arthur!” Merlin spread his arms wide and ale spilled from the tankard in his hand. “Join me and my new friend…uh...” 

The man, who had been laughing a moment before, now scrambled off the stool and bowed. “Lucan, your majesty.”

“Leave us, Lucan.” Arthur didn’t normally take pleasure in ordering people around, but he felt a small thrill in his chest as he watched the man leave.

“Aw, Arthur, we were having fun.” Merlin pouted. 

“I’m sure you can see your new friend another time.” Arthur said stiffly. 

Arthur, who had been sufficiently angry at Merlin just moments ago, now studied him with a strange feeling of warmth growing in his chest. Merlin was rosy-cheeked and unsteady in his seat, and Arthur found it…endearing. So he sat in the recently-vacated stool.

“You’re angry with me.” Merlin sighed and brought his cup to his lips. 

Arthur watched Merlin’s mouth as he sipped. “Not exactly.”

“I was angry with you, too, so I suppose we’re even.”

Arthur studied the bar. “You were right to be angry with me.” 

“I…was right?” Merlin’s words were slurred, and he flicked the side of Arthur’s head. “Have you gone mad in there?”

Arthur caught Merlin’s wrist and stared at him. Merlin swallowed audibly.

“I understand why you were upset, and you were right. I hadn’t considered the other magic users in the kingdom. That was incredibly foolish of me, I know. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.” He squeezed Merlin’s hand once.

Merlin’s head lolled to one side, and he gave a loose grin. “I never thought I’d see the day you thanked me for something.”

Arthur cocked his head. He’d thanked Merlin before, surely. And if he hadn’t, Merlin knew how grateful he was for his company and service all these years. Right? 

It’d always been their way to banter and argue, but just then Arthur was overcome with the urge to ensure Merlin knew just how much he appreciated him. 

“Merlin.” He took Merlin’s hand in his, and Merlin swayed slightly in his stool.  “Thank you for being my loyal friend. Thank you for writing my speeches and advising me. Thank you for saving me countless times with your magic. I won’t say thank you for cleaning my rooms, though. You’re quite rubbish at that.” 

Merlin blinked rapidly. 

“Are you trying to bed me?” He blurted.

“ What ?” Arthur asked, flabbergasted, and tore his hand from Merlin’s.  

“You’re being nice. It’s strange.” Merlin said with narrowed eyes. He took another swig from his drink. 

“You’re drunk!”

“Clearly! I’d never want to bed you sober.” 

“You want to— what ? How many drinks have you had?” 

“Lost count,” Merlin said cheerfully. “Erm…at least four?”

Arthur wanted to be entirely disgusted at the idea of Merlin in his bed, but his mind conjured an image of them together, bodies pressed close, and Arthur found himself clinging to the idea. 

Oh no . 

Now Arthur openly stared at Merlin’s lips, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“I’m quite drunk, Arthur.” Merlin declared, and swayed forward, their faces inches apart. Merlin steadied himself with a hand on Arthur’s knee. Arthur’s realization that he did, in fact, want to kiss Merlin was inconvenient to say the least. He leaned closer. 

“Want to know a secret?” Merlin whispered conspiratorially. 

“Just how many secrets do you have?”

Merlin giggled. “More than you know.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. He fought to ignore Merlin’s hand on his leg. “Well, out with this one, then.”

“I do want to bed you sober.”

An uproar of laughter sounded from near the front of the tavern, and Arthur suddenly remembered that he was the king of Camelot, in a tavern, at noon on a weekday, seconds from kissing his best friend, who also happened to be his manservant and a sorcerer. 

Arthur pushed Merlin away and winced at the look of hurt on his face. 

“It’s the middle of the day, and you’re drunk. We need to get you to bed.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Your bed?” 

“Yes, alright, Merlin, if it gets you out of here. My bed.”

Merlin threw his arms around Arthur, and he took a moment to relish the hug. They’d never embraced like this, and he smelled of citrus and woodsmoke. Arthur patted Merlin’s shoulders in a way that he hoped appeared friendly to any onlookers, although the way Merlin stroked his back was anything but friendly.

“Come on, Merlin. Back to the castle.”

…

Arthur ended up putting Merlin in his own bed. He’d complained the whole way to the physician chambers, but fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

Merlin truly did look beautiful sprawled on the bed, his face peaceful. Arthur watched him for a few long moments before he left and made a beeline to the training yard. 

Arthur didn’t find Gwaine in the training yard, but he did find him in the armory, where he was sharpening the sword he’d been sparring with earlier. 

“We have armorers for that.” Arthur said as he sat across from Gwaine. 

“I enjoy the work.” Gwaine’s hands stilled and he looked up. “Gods, Arthur, what happened? You look wretched.” 

Arthur barked a laugh. “I seem to be saying this a lot today, but you were right.” 

“I usually am, but about what?”

“Merlin.” 

“Ah,” Gwaine nodded. “Realized he’s your paramour, have you?”

“We haven’t—” Arthur ran his hands through his hair. “We’ve not…entangled ourselves like that.”

“But you want to?” 

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Always is, sweetheart. That never stopped anyone.”

Arthur snorted and ignored the epithet. “I’m not anyone, though. I’m the king of Camelot.”

“And what king hasn't taken a consort?” Gwaine began sharpening the sword again.

Arthur wished he lived in Gwaine’s world where everything seemed so straightforward. 

“But it’s Merlin. He’s—”

“A sorcerer?”

Arthur gaped. “You also knew?”

“If you could figure it out, you should have known I could.” 

Arrogant , he thought. But it was true. Leon and Gwaine had always been more observant than he was.

“I’m no one to tell the king what to do, of course.” Gwaine said.

“Of course not.” Arthur muttered.

“But,” he continued. “You and Merlin clearly care for one another, and some people search their entire lives for the friendship you have. It would be a shame to avoid something just because you fear the outcome, when the outcome might be spectacular.”

Arthur sighed. “I never knew you to be so wise, Gwaine.”

Gwaine inspected his sword and nodded in satisfaction before returning the weapon to the rack. He winked at Arthur. “And that’s where you’ve underestimated me.” 

Arthur found himself nodding, then scowled. 

Gwaine shot him a grin and clasped his wrist. “Good luck, my friend.”

“Thank you.” Arthur said, and Gwaine trod out of the armory. 

…

Arthur returned to his chambers and occupied himself with organizing papers, reviewing budgets, and reading. He didn't know how long it would take Merlin to seek him out, but he was prepared to wait. 

Long after sunset, his chamber door opened with a creak. Arthur’s head shot up from his book to see Merlin, finally , come into his room. 

“I’ve come with dinner.” Merlin murmured.

Arthur hopped up and took the platter from Merlin. He gestured to the table. “Join me? You look…well, you’ve looked better.”

Merlin looked horrific. He had dark bags under his eyes and his clothes were rumpled. His hair stuck out in every direction, which made Arthur’s fingertips itch to smooth back the wild dark stands. 

“I’ve felt better.” Merlin croaked. He slumped into the chair next to Arthur’s usual seat. 

Arthur placed the plate between them, sat, and waved at the food. “Have whatever you like.”

Hesitantly, Merlin nibbled on a piece of bread. Arthur studied him. He looked awful, yes, but he met Arthur’s gaze and smiled, which brightened his whole face. 

“So.” Merlin swallowed the bread. “Now you’ve realized you were wrong about magic, what’s your plan to legalize sorcery?”

Arthur stared at him, feeling as if he’d missed a step. He’d never actually gotten to the legal sorcery part of his speech earlier, had he? He’d been a little distracted by all the talk of beds, and bedding, and Merlin in his bed. A smile spread across his face. 

“Want to know a secret?” He echoed Merlin’s earlier words.

Merlin choked on the grape he’d just eaten and hit a fist against his chest to clear his throat. 

“Secret?” Merlin spluttered. His face was red, but from coughing or thinking about his own revealed secret, Arthur wasn’t sure.

“I met with the council this morning,” Arthur said, still smiling, and ignoring Merlin’s distress. “Sorcery is now legal in Camelot.”

Merlin’s hand flew to his mouth. “You—what?”

Arthur nodded. “As of today, you no longer have to hide who you are.”

“Oh, Arthur.”

The way Merlin said his name made Arthur’s insides twist into a knot around his heart. Merlin’s eyes shone with such an expression of admiration that Arthur had to remind himself he’d done this for the good of the kingdom, not for Merlin. 

Oh, but who was he trying to convince? There wouldn’t be a kingdom without Merlin by his side. 

Merlin leaned forward and put a hand on Arthur’s thigh under the table. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. For you.” 

Arthur searched Merlin’s face, and found trust there. Trust, and something that Arthur knew was mirrored on his own face. Longing. 

Merlin’s gaze flicked to Arthur’s lips. 

Enough , Arthur decided. He cupped a hand around Merlin’s neck and dragged their lips together. 

The kiss was clumsy, at first—Arthur wondered briefly if Merlin had ever been kissed—then the kiss deepened, and Merlin threaded his hands into Arthur’s hair, and Arthur’s hands were on Merlin’s thighs, and all worries were forgotten. 

After some minutes (Arthur had no idea how long) they pulled apart, but their noses stayed pressed together, and Arthur’s hands cupped Merlin’s face. Now that they’d been this close, Arthur wasn’t sure how they could ever be apart again. 

Never before had Arthur thought he’d been in love, but he was starting to suspect he just hadn’t known what it felt like, because if it was anything like what he felt now, then he’d already loved Merlin for a long, long time.

“So now that you’re sober…” Arthur whispered. 

Merlin’s hands tightened on Arthur’s thighs. 

“...Would you do me the honor of becoming my court sorcerer?”

“I’d like nothing more than to accept your offer.” Merlin grinned. “But first I believe you mentioned something about your bed?”

They kissed again, and again, and Arthur knew that anything was possible with Merlin by his side. 

“That can certainly be arranged.”