Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This was a horrible idea. Arthur seemed to know this deep down, but refused to acknowledge it outside of the odd nervous glance over the edge of the boat. Though, as was Arthur’s usual way of doing things, any outright fear was quickly disguised as anticipation for the coming battle. Or was it a quest? Merlin wasn’t sure anymore, as he’d assumed this journey was to be an average public appearance to keep neighboring kingdoms happy, but had been told moments ago that their trivial act of good faith towards the other kingdom would be to hunt down a SIREN. A full blown lure-you-into-the-water-and-tear-you-to-bits siren. Which was all well and good, of course, except the fact that the ship they were meant to be taking was ALL MEN.

Generally, sirens only affected men, and because of this it was commonplace to send one or two women on the voyage to perform the necessary tasks while the male crew members were incapacitated by the siren’s song. For some reason, this particular ship was intending to break tradition in the riskiest way possible.

The plan was relatively simple, which unfortunately made it very simple to mess up. They’d all be tied to the masts by Merlin until they docked at the isle where the Siren was said to reside upon, and there, they’d drink special tonics that Gaius had provided which were meant to protect them from the Siren’s spell. The tonic would give them two hours to find and kill it.

Both Merlin and Arthur were given two vials, Merlin because he needed to be in his right mind to give the rest of the crew their tonic and join them in the hunt when the time came, and Arthur because he was the prince. As usual, that was the only reason. Uther had requested it specifically, citing “the future of Camelot” as he seemed to be so fond of doing.

The captain was given a slightly fuller vial with the intention of drinking a little to give him enough sanity to dock the boat, and then down the rest to join the hunt.
The main ingredient in the potion was a flower that only grew on the siren’s isle, and therefore was so incredibly rare and dangerous to recover that supplies of the tonic were scarce. All this, Arthur related to Merlin no more than five minutes ago while they were fetching last minute supplies.

Arthur tossed burlap sack after burlap sack on top of the already unbearable load Merlin was carrying. Merlin was still trying to process what he’d just been told.

“You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You look like a prat, at the moment.”

“Watch it.”

Arthur tossed one last sack on top of the load, leaving Merlin to sway and stumble about clumsily in a wild effort to stay standing. After a few too many seconds of this, Arthur groaned and heaved half of the load into his own arms with infuriating ease. Of course it would be that easy for him.

Merlin gave him a cautiously grateful smile.

“Don’t look at me like that, it was only to make the walk minutely less pathetic to watch.” Arthur insisted, heaving the load up onto his shoulders and beginning the climb up towards the boat. Merlin nodded to himself. That seemed a tad more like the Arthur he knew.

Ignoring the pit in his stomach, Merlin followed at the prince’s heels and lugged the last several pounds of supplies aboard, pushing towards the center of the ship as the prince made his rounds and greeted the crew members warmly. The sky was devoid of clouds, and the sun beat down mercilessly onto the heads of the crew as they scurried about finishing their last minute preparations. Merlin might have been excited for his first look at the open ocean if he wasn’t so preoccupied with the notion that they were all going to die.

His shoulders were aching from the weight of the supplies.

“You can set those down right over there, thank you.”

A kind looking old man pointed across the deck and gave Merlin a warm smile. Merlin nodded his thanks, and plodded heavily towards the indicated spot.

Shoulder and legs aching, he dumped the supplies and straightened up. He knew he would not be spared from any more physical tasks simply if his legs hurt; Arthur wouldn’t take that as an excuse more than once.

A young boy appeared momentarily and whisked the sacks away to the lower deck, thanking Merlin profusely. Arthur soon joined him, dropped off his own share of supplies, and stood beside Merlin to lean over the railing. Arthur tilted his head slightly, smiling out at the perfectly calm sea.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Merlin didn’t answer, so Arthur went on.

“Did I hear that man say ‘Thank you?’ He’d better be careful with that; I can’t have you developing an ego.”

“Oh, of course not; nothing worse than a man with an ego, right?” Merlin snapped.

At this, Arthur frowned, and his teasing demeanor melted to what could have been interpreted as concern. He turned his head slightly, not quite looking at Merlin yet.

“Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” He tried, all hints of derision leaving his voice.

“Oh, no, no. Nothing at all. This is a perfectly sane plan that has absolutely no flaws whatsoever.” Merlin drawled, not caring to hide his discontent any longer.

He thought he noticed Arthur deflate slightly, and a pang of guilt hit him.

“Sorry. It’s just that the sirens only target men.”

Arthur let out a short laugh.

“Glad to see you’ve finally caught up, Merlin.”

“You’re a man.”

“As are you, though I have my doubts when you insist on acting like a scared little girl all the time.”

Arthur was trying to ease his anxiety about the voyage by joking around; Merlin knew that. He tried to be grateful but couldn’t help feeling frustrated at the prince’s refusal to acknowledge the danger of the situation.

“We are ALL men.”

Arthur tightened his grip on the railing ever so slightly and sighed heavily. Merlin could tell he‘d been thinking the same thing. Arthur wasn’t stupid, despite his impressive capacity to act like it.

“We have a plan, and if we stick to it we will be fine. Your incessant worrying doesn’t do anyone any good.”

“The plan would be much simpler and waste less valuable resources if there were two or three women aboard.” Merlin pointed out.

“There will be at least one woman aboard.” Arthur said, a grin creeping onto his face.

“What?”

“You’re coming with us, aren’t you?”

Merlin fought the urge to throw him overboard.

“Stop acting as if you don’t know that this is a bad idea,” Merlin turned to face Arthur, staring him down. “Why not send a woman in my place at the very least?”

Arthur sighed.

“As fond as I was of the idea of replacing you,” he began. “I originally suggested an all female crew with the exception of myself and a few trusted soldiers, but my father wouldn’t hear of it.”

“Why would he refuse? That makes no sense; the presence of women has been a tradition for decades, and for good reason.”

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur tensed and gripped the railing even tighter. His eyes narrowed.

“Neither you or I are in a place to criticize the King’s judgement,” he spat. “You’d do well to remember that.”

The sudden change in tone was not lost on Merlin. Arthur was hiding something from him, and it was something to do with Uther. Naturally, this intrigued Merlin, and he silently resolved to find out what it was at some point.

Racking his brain for a way to lighten the mood, Merlin settled on the usual: affectionate treason.

“You know, if the siren doesn’t kill you, I will.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Arthur said, failing to keep the amusement out of his voice. Merlin chanced a look at him, and found the prince struggling to conceal a grin. Merlin smiled. Good.

They fell into an easy silence, looking out at the sea’s gentle waves lapping against the shore and brushing the side of the boat quietly. Eventually, Arthur spoke.

“I’ve never been on a boat before.”

A casual remark. Causal enough to signify that whatever had caused his icy attitude before was not personal. Almost an apology, by Arthur’s standards. Merlin was grateful for the reassurance, in any case.

“Really?” He replied. An acceptance of the apology.

“Really.”

Merlin thought for a moment.

“Are you nervous at all?”

“Merlin, we’ve been over this.”

“Not the siren. I mean the water.”

Arthur gave him an odd look.

“The water?”

“Yes.”

“You’re asking if I’m nervous about... the water?” He repeated slowly.

“I mean, sort of. There’s the vastness of the ocean, the possibility of getting lost, the threat of shipwreck, disease, unpleasant weather. There’s much more to fear on the open ocean than just a single siren.” Merlin pointed out.

“Incredible. Here I was thinking that your cowardice had reached its highest point, and you tell me you’re afraid of water.”

“Well, you can’t be blamed for the mistake; you’ve never been too good at thinking.”

Arthur glared.

“I should have you in the stocks for that one.”

“There’s no stocks on the boat.” Merlin pointed out helpfully.

“I can always wait until we get back.” Arthur pointed out unhelpfully.

Chapter Text

When the boat had first set off, the captain had intended to show the two men to their rooms himself but ended up sending a young boy and an apology instead. The boy was scarcely 18, with a round face and wide eyes that looked perpetually terrified of something just over one’s shoulder. He made Arthur uneasy, and Merlin was inclined to agree with him on that sentiment.

The boy had then shown Merlin to his room, a simple space down the hall from the captain’s quarters. It had bare walls and a simple bed, with the box containing Gaius’s tonic set up by the adjacent wall. It had no window, which Merlin was less than happy about, but he plastered on a smile and turned to the boy.

“It’s lovely, thank you.”

Arthur nudged Merlin in the arm on the way to his room, indicating that he could see right through the fake smile, which prompted a laugh out of the both of them. The boy looked over his shoulder at the sound, unintentionally locking eyes with Merlin. He hurriedly looked forward again.

Arthur gave Merlin an inquisitive look, which he returned with a shrug. He had no idea why the boy was acting like this.

As they approached the room that was meant for Arthur, Merlin frowned slightly and nudged him. Arthur answered without looking at him.

“What?”

“Aren’t these the captain’s quarters?” Merlin whispered.

Arthur glanced around. Merlin was right.

He heard Arthur curse under his breath.

“This is your room, my lord.” The boy said proudly, stepping aside to led the two men in.

Arthur took a look around, and Merlin saw his shoulders square slightly. Never a good sign with Arthur. He turned, giving the boy as nonthreatening of a smile as he could manage and shaking his head.

“No, I’ll not be staying in here.”

“I- pardon? Is the room not to your liking, my lord?”

Arthur clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder, drawing a frightened whimper out of him. Arthur immediately withdrew, exchanging a startled look with Merlin. This boy was terrified of Arthur.

“Look, it’s a lovely room, really,” Arthur assured him. “It just can’t be for me. These are the captain’s quarters.”

Merlin couldn’t help but smile. Occasionally, Arthur acted as though he wasn’t a horrible person, and it was truly a beautiful thing to behold. Arthur noticed his smile and glared, likely knowing exactly what Merlin was thinking.

“But, my lord, we don’t have any other rooms except for ones befitting common crew members.” The boy explained, his eyes darting to Merlin as if to beg for help. Merlin found himself fighting a laugh.

“Perfect. I’d like to be in one of those rooms, then.”

“But, my lord-!”

“There is one vacant, isn’t there?”

“Well yes, but-“

“Perfect. Let the captain know he has his room back, then. Be sure to tell him it was my choice; I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble on my behalf.” Arthur said, giving him a good-natured smile.

The boy looked as if he might pass out.

“Take whichever one you want, my lord. The occupied ones are further back.”

Arthur nodded.

“Thank you.”

The boy left hastily, nearly tripping over himself as he went.

“Nice kid.” Merlin said after a moment, grinning.

Arthur sighed.

“They tried to give me the captain’s quarters. That’s absurd.”

Merlin shrugged.

“They’ve probably never had royalty aboard before.”

“Royalty shouldn’t mean much when I’ve no clue about how these sorts of missions work.” Arthur said, making for the door.

Merlin walked beside him, and as they passed the boy from earlier he did a double take as if he were shocked to see them again. He bowed low as Arthur passed, prompting a slight eye roll from Arthur. Merlin laughed.

“I believe you are the only person in the world who could be annoyed by adoration.”

“It isn’t adoration, it’s fear. They act as though I’ll execute them for looking at me funny.”

“To be fair, you’ve threatened to do the same to me loads of times.”

“And I might yet make good on my threats if you continue to act like a complete idiot,” Arthur said with a smile in his eyes. Though he would never admit it, Merlin knew that their bickering never failed to put him in a good mood.

The next morning the ocean sparkled like a diamond in the early light, reflecting the bright oranges and pinks of the sunrise and displaying them across the water like an oil portrait of the sky. Merlin got into the habit of getting up early to watch this show of color and light every morning, and then making his way back to the prince’s room to help him get ready. Meals were eaten communally, which meant that Merlin didn’t even have to bring Arthur his food anymore. He found himself wondering why he was even aboard at times, as it seemed he had no purpose other than to tie the men up at the correct time, something that literally anyone else could do. He had supplies should there be any need for medical help as Gaius had insisted, but there was already a physician aboard.

After he had seen his fill of the day’s sunrise, Merlin descended the steps towards Arthur’s room and nearly ran directly into none other than Arthur himself. Merlin took in his appearance, frowning. He looked, for want of a better word, terrible. Terrible and utterly exhausted.

“Arthur? Are you doing alright?”

Arthur looked slightly embarrassed. His hair was a mess and dark circles framed his already weary eyes. He made to move past Merlin dismissively.

“I got up early.”

Merlin sidestepped and blocked his way.

“I can see that. You managed to dress yourself as well.” Merlin gestured to his clothes.

“Don’t act so surprised.”

“I wouldn’t have to if it weren’t so surprising.”

“I’ve always known how to dress myself.”

“Really? Because you’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday.”

Arthur faltered slightly. He’d been caught.

“I... really like this shirt.” He insisted, his eyes darting around like a little kid caught in a lie.

Merlin raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve not slept.”

“Yes, I have. I slept very well, actually.” Arthur said quickly.

“Really? I don’t believe you.”

Arthur sighed, his defiance softening to acceptance. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this one.

“Alright, fine. I didn’t sleep.”

“Arthur, you can’t-“

“I know. The waves bother me.”

“The waves?”

Arthur shrugged.

“The constant motion. I don’t like it.”

Gaius sent me with a few things, do you want something for seasickness?”

“NO! Uh, no. I’m alright. Thank you.”

Merlin laughed.

“You were getting on me for being afraid of water when your stomach can’t even handle it.”

“We should be getting to breakfast.” Arthur said quickly, trying to push past him again. Merlin sidestepped again, barring his path.

“You were worried, weren’t you?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Are you worried about the siren?”

“We’ve been over this.”

“Yes, but apparently not thoroughly enough.”

Arthur didn’t respond. He pointedly trained his eyes on every spot that wasn’t Merlin.

“Why are you so worried?”

“I’m not worried.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

“Breakfast.” Arthur muttered, successfully pushing past Merlin this time. He didn’t try to stop him. Merlin had never seen him like this before, and he was determined to find out what was wrong. It was connected to whatever Arthur was hiding; it had to be.

“No, not worried at all, just exhausted and unable to sleep and visibly distressed half the time,” Merlin said under his breath, turning to head to breakfast. Such sarcasm was often best to leave under one’s breath when Arthur was in a bad mood.

Chapter Text

The dining hall wasn’t as crowded as Merlin had anticipated. There were roughly half the usual men for a ship this size; likely a side effect of the scarce supplies of Gaius’s tonic. The room was alive with laughter and the overall buzz of conversation, emphasized with the occasional raised voice of a particularly angered or rowdy sailor. Merlin scanned the room quickly and spotted Arthur at the furthest of the three long tables, struggling to keep his eyes open. The captain was seated across from him in full uniform, looking rather ridiculous next to the other crew members in his pristine high necked coat and shiny boots. The captain was saying something and Arthur was clearly trying to pay attention but not doing a very good job. The captain didn’t seem to notice.

Right. Merlin thought. That’s my cue.

He made his way across the room to the table and slid onto the bench beside Arthur, who snapped up slightly as if just noticing him. The captain’s eyes narrowed. He was a tall man who looked to all the world like he was born with a permanent scowl on his face.

“Do forgive me, my lord; I asked all my crew to sit elsewhere,” The captain drawled, giving Merlin a truly murderous look. “Clearly some of them have difficulty following orders.”

It was true, the table was entirely vacant except the three of them.

Merlin gave him a sickly sweet smile.

“And a good morning to you too, Captain.”

The captain bristled with rage and rose as if to drag Merlin out of the room himself, but Arthur held up a hand lazily and immediately pacified him.

“He’s not part of your crew, he’s my manservant.” Arthur explained.

“His manservant.” Merlin repeated, reveling a little too much in the captain’s quiet and poorly hidden fury.

“Well,” He huffed. “I’m discussing very important matters with the prince and I’d appreciate it if you left us alone.”

The captain smiled smugly. Merlin turned to Arthur, and for a second he thought he detected a hint of a smile on his face.

Arthur waved a hand dismissively.
“He stays.”

Merlin didn’t laugh, but he came dangerously close. The captain’s eyes widened to an impossible size and he looked as if he might choke.

“But, my lord, if I might suggest-“ he spluttered, looking from Merlin to Arthur wildly.

“No need. He stays.”

The captain sank back into his seat, fuming.

“You were saying?” Arthur said, coaxing the captain to speak again. A small smile played at his lips. He was enjoying this, too. The man shot Merlin one last malevolent glare before continuing reluctantly.

“I was merely going to suggest that we dock at a different point of the isle than we originally planned. I’ve been looking at the maps, and if we approach from the West rather than circling around to the easternmost part of the isle we will cut almost two days off of our journey.”

Arthur was suddenly alert.

“I was told that the reason we were approaching from the other direction was because the siren is more active in the western waters. Would it not be needlessly dangerous to approach from the west?”

The captain faltered slightly. It was clear he didn’t anticipate Arthur bringing that up.

“It would be dangerous, but my crew are ready to lay down their lives if need be, and they would fully understand if we took some collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage? You’re talking about PEOPLE, Captain.”

The captain sensed his favor with Arthur was failing, and began to backpedal wildly.

“I misspoke, my lord, I only meant that-“

“I’ll hear no more of this. We approach from the East as planned.”

“But my lord-“

“I’ve made my decision. We will not needlessly risk the lives of this crew for the sake of convenience.”

The captain’s face hardened. His bootlicking had failed, and dignity was all that remained for him to hold onto. Merlin was grinning openly, not caring to disguise his glee with this turn of events.

“Very well, my lord,” the captain hissed.

“Ah, I’ve forgotten something!” Arthur suddenly exclaimed. He turned and addressed Merlin.

“I can’t very well make such an important decision without the help of my most trusted servant, can I?” He clasped a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Well then, Merlin. What do you think? Should we approach from the East or the West?”

“Ah, I’d have to think about that one for a moment,” Merlin said, fighting the urge to burst into laughter.

“Oh, take all the time you need. We aren’t in any rush,” Arthur assured him over-dramatically. The captain was looking murderous.

“Well, the captain here does make some fantastic points,” Merlin said with mock thoughtfulness. “But the unnecessary loss of life does give me some pause. I say we stick to the East.”

“Thank you, Merlin. Insightful as always. Well, captain, you heard the man. East it is,” Arthur said, a smile on his lips but ice in his eyes.

“Yes, my lord.” The captain said quietly, rising from the table and stalking away. It was then that Merlin realized the hall had gone silent during the conversation. The sailors all stared at Merlin and Arthur, some with glee and some with fear. The minute the door closed behind the captain they began to eat again, the drone of voices rising back to its original volume in seconds.

“I think they like you,” Merlin grinned.

Arthur shook his head.

“I can’t believe I gave up the captain’s quarters for that man.”

“Maybe it was for the best. I expect he’d be twice as unpleasant if he had to sleep in one of the crew’s rooms.”

“That man is-“

“A prat.” Merlin finished for him.

“I was going to say unprofessional, but I can’t rightly argue with you.” Arthur admitted. He allowed himself a small smile, but it faded after a moment. He sighed.

“I’d like to apologize for earlier.”

“Apologize? The lack of sleep must be getting to you.”

“Maybe. All the same, I was out of line. You were only trying to help.”

“Well, you were a bit mean.”

Arthur’s mouth fell open in mock-offense.

“Mean? Now you’ve gone too far.”

Merlin grinned. He felt the weight from the morning’s events lift off of his shoulders. Of course, there was still Arthur’s secret to be thought about, which was taking up an almost annoying amount of space in his mind at this point. With his luck, he would spend the entire voyage agonizing about it only to discover Arthur really was just overly susceptible to seasickness.

However, the rational part of his brain chimed in, it may also be more horrible than he could even imagine.

“You’ve not eaten,” Arthur said suddenly. “Go on, before it’s all gone.”

“Another way to get rid of me, I see. Is it because I called you mean?” Merlin quipped.

“Naturally.”

Merlin grinned, and was leaving to join the line for food when he stopped. He turned back around.

“Thank you, by the way.”

Arthur tilted his head.

“What for?”

“The captain. I appreciate what you did.”

Arthur smiled and fixed his eyes on some imaginary point in the distance.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re taking about.”

Chapter Text

The day was coming to an end rapidly, and Merlin had situated himself atop a crate near the edge of the boat to watch the sunset. This was his usual spot. They’d been on the water for around three days, but the sight of the vibrant colors dancing on the waves never failed to amaze him. He sighed and closed his eyes, letting the gentle breeze ruffle his hair and whisper softly. He could get used to this.

“Hello?”

Merlin startled and nearly fell off of his crate. He looked around wildly for the source of the voice until his eyes landed on the young boy who had shown him to his room, looking half apologetic and half like he was regretting even opening his mouth.

“Hello,” Merlin said as gently as possible. “Did you need something?”

“Not really, no,” the boy admitted. He shuffled his feet for a second, unsure, and then sat himself on a crate a few feet to Merlin’s left. “I wanted to properly introduce myself, if I’m allowed.”

Merlin gave him a confused smile.

“If you’re allowed? Why wouldn’t you be allowed?”

The boy was cautious in his response, speaking slowly and with occasional glances up to assure himself that Merlin was not reacting poorly.

“I apologize if I’ve offended you; I only meant that you clearly have a great deal of influence and I didn’t want to-“

“Hang on. Influence?” Merlin did laugh out loud this time, prompting a mixture of confusion and relief on the boy’s end.

“I have no influence, honestly,” Merlin chuckled.

“With all due respect, you could’ve fooled me.” The boy said, chancing a short laugh.

“Really? I’m not that scary, am I?” Merlin joked. The boy smiled, but it was hesitant. He seemed unsure what to make of Merlin.

“No, it’s just- well your place seems to be at the prince’s side.”

“Yes, but as his manservant. I’m not an advisor or anything fancy like that. I’m only here to make sure he doesn’t put his clothes on backwards, honestly.”

The boy’s eyes widened at this.

“What is it?” Merlin asked, trying his best to erase any lingering fear the boy may be carrying towards him.

“I didn’t know you were a servant.”

“That’s understandable, I’m not very good at acting like one.”

The boy smiled with much less reservation now.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with you,” he laughed. “The prince treats you remarkably well for a servant.”

Merlin scoffed and shook his head. The boy looked skeptical, and smiled cautiously.

“I saw him willingly carry half of your load of supplies.”

Merlin shrugged.

“He’s just a showoff. Plain and simple.”

“You walk by his side, instead of behind him.”

Merlin considered this for a moment. He’d never really thought about it or deemed it odd, but now that the boy had pointed it out he never had seen a servant walk directly beside royalty before. He wondered vaguely why Arthur had never mentioned this to him, particularly in the earlier years when they hated each other.

The boy could see Merlin thinking and allowed himself a small smile.

“Incredible. You weren’t even aware.”

“I’m aware,” Merlin said defensively. “He’s just so irritating that I forget sometimes.”

“And there’s the next point! You speak about him and to him in ways that many of us would be hung for.”

Merlin didn’t have an answer for that one. It was true that he got away with light treason nearly every day. He had assumed it was just a perk of the job, which, in retrospect, was not the most logical conclusion to come to.

“And you stood up to our captain because you knew that he would stand by you,” the boy finished.

Merlin found himself at a loss for what to say. It seemed as though in a few sentences this boy had melted every annoyance he’d ever had about Arthur down into a petty inconvenience. Merlin was treated very well, when he considered the big picture. He felt a sharp pang of guilt for all the times he had spent wallowing in self pity because Arthur hadn’t laughed at his joke or something of the sort.

The destiny part also played into it, though. He had to give himself some slack for being on edge when it felt as though Arthur operated on some unseen authority that he wasn’t even aware of, and that Merlin must stick with him despite anything he may do. It was frustrating at times. The lack of choice.

Merlin knew that at this point he wasn’t just serving Arthur because of destiny. He wasn’t that blind. Arthur was his friend, and he did truly care about him; which made the realization that his bitterness was incredibly unfair sometimes all the more painful.

“It’s not a bad thing, you know.” The boy said after a minute of watching Merlin process. “Arthur is lucky to have you, and you are lucky to have Arthur. The reason you can’t see it is because you’ve never served anyone who treats you poorly. That is reason to celebrate.”

Merlin smiled at him, a twinge of sadness in his eyes.

“You speak like someone who has dealt with that very thing.”

“Several times. Including right now,” the boy said with a quick glance to the captain’s quarters.

They fell into a heavy silence.

“I’m Merlin, by the way.” Merlin said at last, extending a hand. He had no idea what else to do. His newfound guilt weighed on him heavily.

“Samuel.” The boy replied. “People call me Sam.” They shook hands.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.“ Sam said quietly.

“No, That’s alright. In fact I’m grateful for what you’ve said.” Merlin said, turning his attention back to the water. He couldn’t exactly apologize to Arthur for things he’d never said aloud, but what he could do was resolve to be more patient in the future. Less reactive, more understanding.

Merlin thought for a moment.

“Could I ask you something?”

Samuel nodded, swinging his legs over the side of the crate to face Merlin.

“It’s only fair.”

“You seem terrified of Arthur.”

“I am.” Sam said plainly. He looked over at Merlin, his eyes wide and earnest. He looked very, very young in that moment.

“Why is that?“

“It’s just my parents. They were killed during the Great Purge,” Sam explained quietly. Suddenly, his eyes shot up and he searched Merlin’s face for any anger. There was none.

“They weren’t sorcerers,” he said quickly. “They weren’t. They were just harboring a few that they knew, trying to protect them and all.”

He sighed, and spoke slowly.

“I do not blame Arthur for the sins of his father, but I also cannot be blamed for fearing that he might be the same.”

“I understand.” Merlin said quietly. “I understand, and I can assure you that Arthur is not the same.”

Samuel looked straight at him and nodded grimly.

“I am not sure I can believe you, but something tells me that I can trust you.”

Merlin smiled.

“Thank you.”

“It’s wrong of me to speak ill of Arthur,” Sam said quietly. “Particularly when you care for him so deeply.” Then, realizing something, his head shot up and he looked at Merlin with fear in his eyes.

“Don’t tell him what I’ve said. Please.”

Merlin shook his head.

“Don’t worry.”

“I fear to think what would happen to me. He is the future king after all.”

“God help us.” Merlin remarked with a grin.

Sam allowed himself to laugh unhindered for the first time since he’d sat down.

“It’s things like that, Merlin, that set you so far apart. None of us would dare say that about Arthur.”

“Particularly when he’s standing right behind them,” someone said.

Merlin felt a hand on his shoulder.

Samuel whipped his head around and fell off of his crate. He immediately scrambled to his feet and took a knee, head bowed low.

“I’m so sorry, my lord, I was only-“

Arthur held up a hand dismissively.

“There’s no need for that. Come on, on your feet. I was messing with you.” Arthur said, offering Samuel a hand.

Samuel shot Merlin a skeptical look, which Merlin returned with an encouraging nod. He accepted Arthur’s hand and was pulled to his feet. Arthur took a step back and looked the boy up and down.

“What do they call you, then?” Arthur asked.

“Samuel, my lord.”

“I’m sorry for startling you, Samuel.”

“It’s nothing, my lord.” His head was bowed and he refused to look up at Arthur. Merlin noticed he was shaking slightly, and one look at Arthur told him that he’d noticed it too. He could read in the way the corners of Arthur’s mouth tightened and the minute change in his tone of voice towards a gentler cadence that Arthur felt incredibly guilty. Never defeated, however, he smiled and gestured to Merlin.

“I see you’ve met Merlin.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I’m afraid I must apologize for that as well.”

A ghost of a smile flashed onto Sam’s face and was gone as soon as it had appeared. Merlin grinned at Arthur’s back. Watching him try to ease the boy’s fear was a side of him that he rather enjoyed seeing.

“You needn’t, my lord. I admire him greatly.”

Arthur scoffed and was about to retort when Samuel cut him off by bowing low to the ground and taking a step back.

“If it is alright, my lord, I’ll be turning in for the night.”

“Of course,” Arthur said. “I imagine you need your rest.”

At this, Sam gave him a vaguely surprised look before thanking him and taking his leave.

Arthur turned and took a seat on the crate next to Merlin. He stretched and yawned before turning his attention to the sunset, which was just starting to gain its usual vibrancy.

“What are you doing here?” Merlin asked, swinging his legs over the other side of the crate to face him.

“Same reason as you, I imagine.” He said coolly.

“Slacking off?”

Arthur smiled without averting his eyes from the sunset, which was now in full bloom. The sky glowed with streaks of gold, pink, and orange; and they all reflected back equally as beautiful upon the water’s surface, turning the ocean into soft fire.

“There aren’t any windows in the rooms.” Arthur said simply.

Merlin was taken aback by this. He’d expected a joke, or at least a playfully dishonest answer. Never did he expect such an open and honest sentiment, and especially not one that they shared. And, Arthur knew that they shared it. How could he, unless he paid more attention than Merlin gave him credit for?

“You’re right,” Merlin admitted. “I come out here every night.”

Arthur nodded.

“I know.”

“You know?”

Arthur tore his eyes away from the sky and fixed Merlin with a teasing expression.

“Well, you’re hardly stealthy about it, are you?“

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Merlin asked defensively.

“Am I being mean again?” Arthur asked with faux innocence. He grinned and nudged Merlin’s shoulder.

They sat in easy silence for a few minutes, taking in the orange glow that had settled on the water. Arthur finally spoke, his tone considerably more serious than before.

”Tell me something, Merlin.”

Merlin looked over and raised his eyebrows.

“Yes?”

“Samuel. Did he happen to say why he was so scared earlier?”

“No,” Merlin lied. “He’s a good kid. I expect he’s just intimidated.”

Arthur sighed.

“Can I ask how much you heard?” Merlin tried. His voice carried a twinge of unease that Arthur seemed to notice, but mercifully decided against pointing out.

“Not much. Only the bit where you expressed a certain amount of doubt about my future reign. Care to elaborate?” He challenged, shooting Merlin a grin.

“I believe my words speak for themselves.”

“Maybe.” He said quietly.

“I’d explain that I was joking but I’m afraid you’d mistake it for admiration,” Merlin laughed.

“Of course. We can’t have that,” Arthur agreed. He fell silent and fixed his gaze upwards at the steadily appearing stars.

Merlin looked at him for the first time that night. Not just a glance, but a genuine look. He saw the way his jaw curved and the way the dusk highlighted his cheekbones, the way that his mouth was curled into a slight smile, the way his eyebrows were devoid of tension, and the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes as he allowed his smile to grow. He seemed truly relaxed for the first time in a long time.

“You seem more at ease than you were this morning,” Merlin pointed out, shifting his gaze to the stars as well. “Are you feeling better?”

“I am.”

“I’m glad.”

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and fixed Merlin with an odd look. Merlin could feel his gaze but didn’t turn to look at him. Arthur watched him for a few seconds before slowly raising his eyes to the sky once more.

“Do you think you’ll sleep?” Merlin asked.

“Yes, if I can.”

“Good. I didn’t want to have to mention it, but you really must change clothes soon; you’re beginning to smell.”

Arthur let out a genuine laugh, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, a soft smile bloomed in his face and remained there. The stars reflected in his eyes and turned them into miniature skies, a phenomenon which made it difficult not to stare. Merlin tore his eyes away just as Arthur spoke again.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Merlin chanced another look at him.

“Yeah, it is.”

Chapter Text

“WAKE UP, BOY!”

Merlin, who was already out of bed and dressed, glared at the door. It was rattling back and forth as the unseen assailant banged their fists against it wildly, causing an unbearable amount of noise. Merlin milled about the room for a moment, purposefully taking his sweet time. He had a feeling he knew who it was.

Eventually, he placed a hand on the knob and eased the door open as slowly as he could, revealing a man with murder in his eyes and a curse on his lips.

“Good morning, Captain!” Merlin said, putting on the most cheerful expression he could muster. The captain’s chest was heaving with effort and his eyes were crazed.

“Go wake the prince. He must join us above deck immediately.”

Merlin leaned out into the hallway and made a show of peering over the captain’s shoulder.

”Well, Captain, judging by the lack of dents in Arthur’s door you’ve not even tried to wake him yourself,” Merlin said, fighting to keep a grin off of his face. “Surely a man of your renown isn’t afraid of a sleeping prince?”

The power struggle was nearly tangible. The captain knew his authority extended only so far; Arthur’s protection hung over Merlin like a magical barrier beyond which he could not hope to pass.

“Get him up. Now. It’s urgent,” He hissed, spinning on his heel with a flourish of his ridiculous coat and beginning his march up the stairs. The stairs were quite steep as well, Merlin thought. It would truly be a shame if he were to trip.

By some miracle, the captain did just that. He let out a shriek as his legs slipped out from under him and he tumbled to the floor in a heap of pure fury.

How unlucky, Merlin thought, a flash of gold fading from his eyes.

The captain shot him an accusatory glance but thankfully didn’t act on his suspicions. Something was off about him today; he seemed less aggressive and more high strung. He clambered to his feet and all but sprinted up the stairs without looking back.Merlin snickered to himself before turning and opening the door to Arthur’s room.

Arthur was already awake, sitting upright in bed and glowering at the door. When he saw Merlin his scowl deepened.

“Rise and shine?” Merlin offered.

Arthur didn’t seem to be in the mood for rising or shining.

“What the Hell was all that noise?” He demanded.

“The captain. He said you were needed above deck immediately.”

Arthur’s face softened into confusion.

“Why didn’t he just come to me first?”

“Probably afraid you’d chop his head off.”

Arthur considered that for a moment.

“On second thought, he may have been right not to wake me.”

Once Merlin had gotten Arthur dressed, they’d emerged above deck to find the captain barking orders at the sailors, all of whom were lined up in military straight rows and armed to the teeth. The captain was speaking rapidly to the lot of them and gesturing wildly towards a point on the horizon. Merlin frowned.

“That’s strange. We’re not meant to reach the Siren’s Isle for-“

“Another two days,” Arthur whispered, a realization dawning in his eyes.

Merlin froze.

Arthur‘s entire demeanor changed in an instant. Shoulders squared and eyes fiery, he lunged towards the captain. He grabbed his arm in an iron fist and pinned him against the wall of the captain’s quarters.

The captain’s face was fraught with distress, and his skin seemed to be drained of all color. Arthur’s rage was palpable.

“Which direction are we approaching the Isle from?” Arthur asked, his voice dangerously calm.

“My lord-“

“Which direction are we approaching from?” Arthur repeated.

The captain was shaking.

“West, my lord.”

“What have you done?“ Arthur roared in the man’s face.

“I haven’t done anything!” He cried. “We were on track to approach from the East but the ship began to veer off of its course. I couldn’t stop it.”

“Who did it?” Arthur demanded.

“No one; I was at the wheel the whole time.” The captain said faintly, looking as though he might pass out.

“You’re lying to me.”

“My lord, please, I didn’t-“

“You disobeyed a direct order. If any men lose their lives because of this I swear to you-“

“Arthur, stop.” Merlin stepped forward.

The captain’s eyes darted between Merlin and Arthur fearfully. Sweat dripped from his forehead and his mouth opened and closed noiselessly like a fish out of water.

“Look at him,” Merlin said in a low voice. “He didn’t do this.”

“Who else could have?” Arthur snapped.

“I don’t know,” Merlin admitted. “But it wasn’t him. Think about it. He’s terrified of you; he would never risk something like this.”

This seemed to get through to Arthur. He took a step back, breathing heavily. The captain remained where he was, trembling and looking as if he expected to be thrown overboard at any moment.

After a long pause, Arthur offered the captain his hand. His eyes were still dark with disbelief.

“My apologies.” He spat.

The captain looked at Merlin, his eyebrows furrowing in utter confusion, before accepting Arthur’s hand and shaking it. He wobbled on weak knees for a moment and eventually straightened up to attempt to put his facade back together.

“How long have we got before we arrive?” Arthur asked.

“Perhaps two hours, my lord,” The captain answered. “We have minutes before we are in range of the song.”

Arthur nodded, and both he and Merlin took off running towards their respective rooms. Merlin emptied the box of vials into his satchel and sprinted back up the stairs, casting it aside and immediately snatching a length of rope off of the deck with the intent to tie Arthur down first.

“Arthur!” Merlin called out.

“Help the others first!” Arthur yelled back. He was busy at work helping some of the other crew members bind their hands together. None of the other sailors seemed particularly excited about the prospect of facing a siren, and moved about sluggishly as if numb to the reality of the situation. Merlin caught sight of Samuel nearby tying up another sailor and waved him down.

“Sam!”

Upon hearing his name, Samuel looked up, spotted Merlin, and quickly finished binding the man’s wrists to a mast. He made his way quickly over to where Merlin was standing and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“What do you need?”

“Arthur. Go take over tying down those men and then come back after so I can help you once he’s secure.”

Samuel hesitated for a moment.

“He truly is your priority, isn’t he?” He mused, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Merlin didn’t have time to defend himself before Sam turned around to spot Arthur. He gave Merlin a quick nod and rushed over to where the prince was carefully looping rope around one of the crew member’s wrists. Merlin watched as Sam wrestled the ropes out of Arthur’s hands and pointed to Merlin with such authority that he nearly laughed at the look of pure shock on Arthur’s face.

Arthur eventually made his way to Merlin who immediately set to work binding his wrists.

“You sent your little friend to lecture me, did you?” Arthur asked, a teasing smile on his face.

“You weren’t listening.”

“I was helping.”

“Yes, helping the chances that you’ll die.”

“You seem especially keen on keeping me alive recently,” Arthur said with an amused expression.

“You seem especially keen on making it harder recently.”

“Well, you needed something to do on this trip; I imagine you’ve been quite bored.”

“Your generosity knows no bounds, my lord,” Merlin drawled, moving onto the prince’s legs.

”Is it REALLY necessary that you tie my feet?” Arthur asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Probably not.” Merlin admitted, looping the rope around his ankles.

“Then why the hell are you doing it?”

“Fun.”

Arthur made to swat Merlin but only succeeded in wiggling a little as his hands and arms were already tied down. Merlin took a step back, partly to laugh at Arthur and partly to check that he was secure. He couldn’t have the crown prince drowning on his watch.

“These knots had better be the tightest you’ve ever tied,” Arthur warned.

“Oh, don’t worry. Even if you do get out, I reckon the siren will take one look at you and lose its appetite.”

Arthur muttered something about putting him in the stocks but mercifully fell silent as Merlin double checked the knots and moved on to the final crew member left untied: Samuel. He’d finished with the other sailors while Merlin was working and had made his way over to where he was.

Merlin quickly bound Sam to the other side of the pole Arthur was against, incredibly aware of how much time had passed since the captain proclaimed there were “minutes” to spare. The danger was growing; he could sense it.

“I want to apologize for shouting, my lord,” Sam said over his shoulder, addressing Arthur. “Merlin assured me it was imperative you come over immediately.”

“Don’t worry,” Arthur reassured him. “I understand completely.”

Samuel visibly relaxed.

Merlin gave him a smile and patted his shoulder as he straightened up. He observed his handiwork and decided it was good enough; Samuel was rather a scrawny kid and didn’t seem like he needed quite the same level of security as Arthur.

“You didn’t do his feet.” Arthur pointed out smugly.

“I trust him more.” Merlin said plainly.

“That’s absurd.”

“With all due respect, I’ve seen you nearly get yourself killed more times than I can count,” Merlin remarked, shooting Arthur a teasing grin. He was enjoying this a little too much.

Arthur made to defend himself but cut himself off, his eyes suddenly widening in alarm. He was looking over Merlin’s shoulder at something. Whatever that something was, it had caused his face to drain of color.

“Drink your vial, Merlin.”

“What?” He spun around to see what the prince was staring at, and saw an island with swirling storm clouds surrounding it looming in the distance. The Siren’s Isle.

“NOW, Merlin-!” Arthur roared, but it was too late. A lilting soprano voice filled the air so completely that it felt almost tangible, and the crew’s eyes became unfocused and wild. They began thrashing against their ropes and yelling the names of women at the top of their lungs.

“Maria, darling, I’m coming home soon, I promise!” The captain wailed.

“Agnes, my love-!”

“Helena, my darling, wait for me-!”

“Sybil, don’t leave me-!”

Merlin wasn’t paying much attention to the screaming men, for he was preoccupied with the two very important realizations that had struck him the moment the song began. Firstly, he was unaffected. This alone would have been relatively simple to deal with. However, realization number two rather complicated things: Arthur was staring at him with completely focused eyes and a distinct lack of women’s names in his mouth.

“What the hell is going on?” Arthur breathed, glancing around at the other men who were still screaming and bashing their heads against the masts in their desperate efforts to escape.

“I don’t know,” Merlin admitted, still having trouble processing it all. He had an idea why HE might be immune, but Arthur? There was no way in hell that Arthur was a sorcerer, so there must be something else at play.

“What-?” Arthur began to ask but the question died in his throat. There was a slight tremor in his voice that Merlin pretended not to notice. The two men stared at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to do.

Merlin coughed.

“S’pose I can untie you, then.” He said slowly, eyes never leaving Arthur’s. Arthur nodded, his face the picture of dread.

Merlin untied the ropes binding his hands and arms first, before looking up at him to check that he truly was unaffected. He was staring straight ahead, eyes completely sharp and aware.

Merlin paused before the leg ropes and looked up at Arthur.

“Promise once I untie these you won’t try and drown yourself?” He asked, offering a grin.

Arthur didn’t answer. He was clearly not in the mood for jokes.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Merlin said under his breath, finally releasing Arthur fully. The prince didn’t even move, he just leaned against the mast and looked around, dazed and distressed.

“Why isn’t it working?” He said shakily, half to himself and half to Merlin. “Neither of us drank the tonic.”

“I’ve got not clue.”

Arthur’s eyes lowered to the deck and his eyebrows knit together slightly.

Oh no, Merlin thought. He’s thinking. That was never good.

“Maybe it’s because I’m a prince.” He said after a moment. Merlin would’ve laughed out loud if not for the poorly disguised fear in Arthur’s voice. He was terrified, more so than Merlin had ever seen before.

“Why would I be immune as well if it was because you’re a prince?” Merlin asked slowly, fighting to keep any derision out of his voice. Arthur was scared, and Merlin’s heart ached to see it. It wasn’t the time for harsh words.

“I don’t know!” Arthur snapped, flinging his arms up in defeat. He circled around to one of the other masts to look at the captain, who was drooling and struggling madly.

“Maria-?” The captain cried out, looking around wildly with unseeing eyes.

“I suppose it’s a good thing.” Arthur said, wincing. “I wouldn’t want you to see me like that; I’d never hear the end of it.”

Merlin grinned, but there was a certain lack of humor behind it as he struggled to wrap his head around the whole situation. On the bright side, Arthur’s being immune deflected a certain amount of suspicion away from Merlin. Had he been the only one, it would’ve been a lot harder to explain away.

Arthur sighed. The shock had worn off at last and replaced itself with resignation. He circled back to the mast he’d been tied to and observed Samuel for a bit. The boy was drooling and smiling serenely, with his expression harshly contrasting the violent jerks of his body as he tried to wriggle out of the ropes.

“He’s not saying anything,” Arthur noted, giving Merlin a questioning look. “I thought sirens mimicked the person you love most.”

Merlin gazed at Sam sadly for a moment, the answer clear but difficult to say aloud.

“I don’t believe he has anyone to love,” Merlin said quietly.

They both fell silent for a moment after that.

Merlin decided that since it was he who had caused the silence, it was also up to him to break it.

“Well, I can’t say I’m all that upset. I was looking at nearly two hours alone with them in that state. At least now I’ve got company.”

Merlin sank down to the floor against the mast.

“Granted, I was hoping for someone slightly less irritating to talk to.”

“Have you given up?” Arthur demanded.

“No, but there’s nothing we can do about this. We’re immune for some reason and that’s all we’ve got to work with for now. We’ll ask Gaius about it when we get home.”

“How can we be sure Gaius will know the answer?”

“Your incessant worrying doesn’t do anyone any good.” Merlin mimicked Arthur’s words in a high-pitched voice.

“That’s childish, Merlin. Even for you.”

Arthur lowered himself to sit next to him. “And besides, I don’t even sound like that.”

“I don’t even sound like that!” Merlin mimicked again.

“I’ve half a mind to throw you overboard.”

“Right, point taken.”

They fell into a slightly less tense silence, the bickering acting as a comforting familiarity in such a strange situation. Arthur was thinking again, Merlin could tell. He wondered if this time would actually produce something worthwhile.

“The vials,” Arthur said after a minute. “We don’t need ours. That’s four more to give to the others.”

Merlin looked at him sideways and couldn’t help but smile. It was truly a great thing when Arthur decided to not be an ass. Under the various masks he wore, masks of arrogance, superiority, or aggression; there was a truly selfless man. One whom Merlin very much enjoyed seeing when he was allowed out.

“That’s true. We can redistribute them among the other vials.”

“Four more bottles,” Arthur mused quietly.

“Surprised you can count that high,” Merlin remarked, earning himself a cuff over the head.

Arthur stared out at the waves for a few moments after, his blue eyes reflecting the clouds and turning his irises into miniature skies. The tenseness had left his shoulders and he seemed almost at ease despite the screeching madmen surrounding him. He sighed, deciding something, and turned to Merlin.

“Do you know what?”

“What?”

“I lied to you.”

“Ah, I knew you couldn’t count that high.”

“I’m serious, Merlin.”

“Right, sorry. What did you lie about?”

“Replacing you with a woman.”

“Are you telling me there is a woman on board after all?”

“No. I mean to say that I did suggest an all female crew. And my father did refuse, but he agreed to allow one woman to come and watch over us all while we were under the spell.”

Arthur was speaking slowly, as if every syllable pained him. Merlin wasn’t sure where he was going with all this, but listened intently nonetheless. It must be the reason Arthur was so worried, Merlin told himself. And the reason he became so defensive when drilled about his father’s orders.

“I agreed. I thought that was a fantastic idea; it would save more tonic for the rest of us and give a woman a noble thing to do for her kingdom. But when I went to find you, my father stopped me.”

Arthur’s voice was careful and he was pointedly keeping his gaze glued to the sky.

“He asked why you needed to come with me. I said that I still had things I needed you to do for me, but my father insisted I’d manage without you.”

Arthur looked over at Merlin, the sky eyes filling with regret, and gave him a pained smile.

“I told him that if I was to go, you were coming with me.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, resonating with meaning.

Merlin let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“In retaliation, my father refused to allow a woman on board. He told me that if anyone died as a result, the blood would be on my hands.”

Arthur leaned back, his eyes focusing on some imaginary point in the distance. His expression was pained but filled with obvious relief. This was what he had been hiding; Merlin was certain. His face said it all. He was never scared for himself, he was scared of letting something happen to the rest of the crew.

“Well, you didn’t really lie to me. You just didn’t tell me the whole truth.” Merlin pointed out.

“I put you in danger for no reason,” Arthur sighed, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “If I weren’t so stubborn you would be at home instead of floating towards certain doom.”

The emphasis on Merlin’s safety instead of the whole crew’s gave him pause.

Arthur was worried about him.

He found that this made him rather happy, against his own will.

“As much as I would’ve loved the idea of a day or two off, I’d have been bored,” Merlin admitted. Arthur smiled.

“I thought you’d be furious.”

“Would you prefer that I was?”

“No.”

They fell silent again, and Arthur seemed to be genuinely relaxed this time. He was almost the Arthur that Merlin had seen the previous night, except that it was more real, in a way. Merlin knew what was bothering him, and Arthur knew that it was okay.

Merlin watched him for a moment, taking in the sight of the prince’s face when it was truly free of tension, the lines all soft and trusting, not a hint of a mask to be seen. He vastly preferred this Arthur.

“Arthur?”

“What?”

“Be careful. When we get there, I mean.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows and almost smiled, giving Merlin a suspicious look.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were worried about me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I spent hours cleaning that sword last time and if anything happened to it, then I’d really be furious.”

Arthur smiled gently, which caught Merlin entirely off guard. He’d expected a playful jab in return, not sincerity.

“Nothing is going to happen to it. Promise.”

Suddenly, there was a sickening crunch that seemed to come from below the boat. The thrashing men grew even louder and more rowdy, screeching and flinging bits of spit as they kicked and bit and begged to be untied. The siren song grew louder. Arthur immediately stood up and drew his sword in one fluid motion.

There were a few more crunches, growing more intense and seeming as if they were getting closer. The singing grew even louder. Suddenly, a slimy hand with impossibly long claws slapped over the rim of the ship. Merlin scrambled to his feet, eyes wide.

“They’re not meant to come aboard,” Arthur breathed.

“It doesn’t look like she cares.”

Merlin winced as the horrible thing flopped itself over the rim of the deck and reared up to its full height.

The siren was a sickly grey color, with spider-like purple veins that surged just beneath the surface. It had a lizard esque body that moved to the tail of a fish at the end, with three sets of muscular legs that ended in webbed feet. Rather like a centaur, it had a woman’s torso and a woman’s face, except the fact that its eyes were large black orbs and its mouth was impossibly large, lined with multiple rows of needle-like teeth. It had what looked like long black hair but behaved more like tentacles. Its mouth moved unnaturally, creating strange warbles that somehow translated to beautiful singing once it reached a man’s ear.

“I’m not sure why the song didn’t affect you; she‘s just your type.” Merlin remarked.

“Do you ever shut up?”

The siren closed its mouth, and the singing stopped. The men on board began waking up and falling silent before immediately beginning a new round of raucous screams when they noticed their uninvited guest.

“Merlin, get them their vials and get them untied.” Arthur ordered, squaring off with the siren. It scraped its claws on the deck and started advancing slowly, drool leaking from its hideous mouth.

Merlin snatched up his satchel and fumbled with the vials as he ran. He popped the cork on the captain’s and dumped the entire vial down his throat.

Merlin shoved a few more vials into his hands as he untied him.

“Go untie more men and give them each an entire vial.”

The captain nodded numbly and took off running.

Arthur had begun swinging. The siren slipped easily around his blade, making a strange hissing noise and forcing Arthur towards the center of the ship.

Merlin went down the line, dumping vials into the men’s mouths and untying them as fast as humanly possible. Once Samuel was freed he took a few vials of his own and began to help out as well.

The men scattered as the Siren pushed Arthur closer and closer to the center mast. He was swinging wildly, growing more and more frustrated with the lack of successful hits. The siren opened its horrible mouth and screeched, causing half the men to clasp their hands over their ears in pain.

Arthur seemed to be losing. He was nearing the center mast, always taking one step towards the creature and being forced to take three steps back.

Merlin glanced around and noted that he wasn’t being watched. He discreetly raised his hand toward the siren and muttered a spell under his breath.

The back set of the siren’s legs suddenly collapsed, sending the entire creature to the floor with a wet slap.

With a triumphant cry, Arthur landed a blow on the siren’s torso and it shrank back, leaking a thick black fluid onto the deck. It reared on Arthur and stretched itself up even taller. Just when it seemed like it was preparing to strike, it opened its mouth once more and began singing again. This time, the song had a much lower pitched voice and a slower tempo than before.

Arthur’s eyes grew unfocused and his sword fell to his side. It hung limply from his hand and dragged across the deck, but he didn’t drop it. He took a slow step towards the beast, his head tilting slightly to one side.

“NO!” Merlin screamed, retrieving another vial and sprinting across the deck towards Arthur.

His trance was far less manic than the other men; he was not screaming or smiling, but approaching carefully and with a gentle voice. He was advancing slowly on the Siren, hand outstretched. He was saying something, but Merlin was too far away to hear it. Feet furiously pounding the deck and hands fumbling to uncork the vial as he went, he watched desperately as Arthur took another step. His eyes were filled with tears and his expression was pained.

“Merlin?”

Arthur whispered, voice shaking from the tears.

He was nearly close enough to touch the creature.

The siren reared back and opened its jaws wide, preparing to strike.

It was at that moment that Merlin body slammed Arthur to the floor and poured the entirety of the vial down his throat. The siren screeched and started skittering across the deck towards them at impossible speeds. Merlin wrenched the sword out of Arthur’s hand and brought it up just in time to impale the Siren directly through the middle. It twitched a little, hissed once more, and shuddered. It fell still, dead.

Breathing hard, Merlin flung the thing backwards and laughed out loud. Such a sense of relief washed over him that he barely realized Arthur was still there. Merlin heard a groan from behind him that reminded him, and he clambered to his feet. Arthur sat up, rubbing his head and blinking in confusion.

“What hap-?” He froze when he saw the siren, and he looked from the sword to Merlin a few times in disbelief.

“Did you do that?”

“No thanks to you.” Merlin grinned and handed Arthur his sword back.

“Did I pass out?” Arthur asked, looking around confusedly.

“The siren changed its tune and you went under its spell.” Merlin said earnestly, extending a hand to help Arthur to his feet. He accepted it, and shook his head, dazed.

“Did I say anything?” Arthur asked, trying to act as if it were a casual matter but looking terrified of the answer.

The few crew members who were near enough to hear shot Merlin a cautious look. Samuel was among them, a knowing smile on his face. Merlin shook his head imperceptibly and Samuel nodded, inferring the meaning. He nudged the men around him and assumedly swore them to secrecy.

It was Arthur’s business, to be shared when Arthur felt ready.

“No, you didn’t say anything.” Merlin lied.

Arthur didn’t look very happy at that, but a certain level of relief registered in his eyes.

The captain came to stand beside Arthur and cleared his throat, making a point to not look at the Siren’s body, which was still oozing the black liquid.

“My lord, if there’s no objections, I think it would be best if we start heading home.”

“Right, yes.”

Arthur brought a hand up to his face and was startled when he removed it wet. He turned to Merlin, confused.

“Am I crying?”

“You can hardly be blamed, what with you being a coward and all.”

Arthur swatted Merlin over the head but laughed anyways. They fell silent for a minute, the stress from the day’s events finally starting to fade. After a minute, Merlin spoke.

“I reckon killing a siren is worth a day off, don’t you think?”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“Right. Got it.”

Chapter Text

The crew went about their business with as much semblance of normalcy as they could muster, with a few of the braver ones taking up the task of stowing the siren’s body away and cleaning up the mess it had made. Samuel was among them which Merlin noted with a feeling of pride. In the short time that he’d known the boy, he already seemed to have gained twice the confidence he had on the first day. Sam locked eyes with Merlin and gave him a bright smile and a wave. Merlin returned it enthusiastically and crossed the deck to where Arthur was sitting with his back rigid against the center mast. His eyes were trained on the horizon, a thin line between his eyebrows indicating that he was deep in thought.

“Are you alright?” Merlin asked, lowering himself to sit beside him. He already knew the answer.

“I never thanked you,” Arthur said, ignoring the question.

The change in subject was not lost on Merlin. He frowned.

“For what?”

“Saving my life. That Siren nearly had me.”

Merlin shrugged.
“I wasn’t about to let you get eaten.”

Arthur looked over at him, a slightly pained smile on his face.

“Thank you, Merlin.”

Merlin nodded, finding no words at the moment.

Arthur wasn’t okay. That much was apparent. It had been a long day, he reasoned, perhaps it was just a product of stress?

One look at Arthur, however, and Merlin knew that it was something more.

As if he could read minds, Arthur patted Merlin’s shoulder and stood up, casting him a sorrowful smile.

“I think I’ll turn in early tonight.”

“Alright,” Merlin said numbly, the unanswered questions weighing on him heavily.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Merlin watched him leave, his mind swirling with guilt. What if he had some part in Arthur’s mood? Should he have come clean about what Arthur said? What did Arthur saying his name even mean? Merlin scarcely had time to think about anything before his train of thought was interrupted by someone sinking to the floor beside him.

“Hello again,” Sam greeted cheerfully.

Merlin pushed everything out of his mind and forced a smile in return.

Noticing Merlin’s silence, Sam nudged his arm and jerked his head at Arthur’s retreating back.

“You saved his life.”

“It’s a nasty habit of mine.”

Samuel let out a short laugh and quickly fell silent again. There was clearly more he wanted to say, but there was an air of caution around his tone. He seemed afraid of overstepping, a fact which Merlin decided he was grateful for.

After a minute Samuel found the courage to speak again.

“Did you tell him?”

So much for pushing everything out of his mind.

“I can’t.”

Samuel nodded again.

“I understand.” He cast Merlin a sideways glance and furrowed his eyebrows. “What have you told him instead?”

“I said that he didn’t say anything,” Merlin admitted.

Sam didn’t respond immediately. Merlin glanced over at him and noticed a wistful expression on his face. As if he could feel Merlin’s eyes on him, he brightened up and plastered a smile onto his face.

“That was probably the best thing for him. I don’t imagine he’d take the news well.”

“You didn’t say anything; what does that even mean?”

Samuel hesitated a moment before shrugging.

“There isn’t anybody in my life who I love most. It’s not surprising, really.”

“Really?”

“I’ve been on loads of voyages that passed the Isle and I’ve never said anything before. Why would it change now? Although,” he added, shooting Merlin a grin. “This has to have been the most interesting one to date.”

Merlin laughed, allowing his posture to relax slightly and releasing tension in his back that he didn’t realize he’d been carrying.

“Really?”

“Really. Well, second place at least. One time a man’s wife was on board and he said a name that apparently was not hers. The other two women had to keep her from throwing him overboard,” Sam explained, grinning. “Between you and me, I’d have helped her do it if I was in my right mind.”

The two laughed easily for a moment at the concept. Across the deck, the captain was engaged in a heated argument with a sailor who rather looked as if he was hardly listening. The captain was covered in the black fluid that the siren had covered the deck in and was so red in the face that he looked as though he’d pass out at any second. Once they’d recovered from laughing at this new phenomenon, Merlin spoke again.

“Can I ask what you see when the siren sings? Do you even remember anything afterwards?”

Sam squinted in the setting sun, focusing his attention back out onto the water.

“You sort of remember it. You can see, but not the real world, only the one the siren has made for you. It’s odd,” he tried to explain, giving Merlin an embarrassed grin. “For me, all I see is a beautiful woman dressed in all white. But for the others, they’ve told me they often see their wives or lovers holding their arms out and begging the men to come to them.”

“What does it feel like?” Merlin asked curiously.

“Like floating. Or falling asleep. It feels like you’re safe, above all things. Like everything will be okay, no matter what.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Merlin laughed. “It didn’t work on me.”

Samuel’s smile faded immediately and was replaced with a look of pure shock.

“What?”

“I wasn’t affected by its song for some reason.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Well, I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

Merlin thought it best to not mention Arthur’s immunity as well. It felt too personal; that was Arthur’s business and Arthur’s business alone.

“I’ve never heard of any man being immune,” Sam mused. “That’s incredible.”

“Even if I had gone under, I’m sure I wouldn’t have said anything either,” Merlin said, allowing himself to lean back against the mast.

“It isn’t a bad thing when someone says nothing,” Sam said, shrugging. “It simply means that they haven’t found anyone worthy of their love yet.”

He thought for a moment and looked over at Merlin with a small smile.

“It seems as though Arthur has found that someone.”

Merlin nearly choked on his own shock. Somehow, that thought had not yet crossed his mind. It was as if his brain had censored it to prevent him from even daring to explore that train of thought.

He coughed.

“That’s not- I mean, that’s impossible.” Merlin said quickly.

Sam let out a good natured laugh.

“I’m not an expert on sirens, mind you; I can’t say for sure what it meant. You must admit that it’s all a bit suspicious, though.”

“I think I’ll head in for the night,” Merlin announced, feeling rather faint.

Sam’s smile faded.

“I’m sorry for pushing; I know it’s a lot to process.”

“You’re a good friend, Sam. Truly,” Merlin said, leaning onto the mast for support. He felt dizzy. “I appreciate you trying to help, but it’s impossible.”

“Maybe so,” Samuel said listlessly. He stood up and offered Merlin an apologetic smile.

“Should there turn out to be even a shred of possibility on either end,” He said, shaking Merlin’s hand. “I wish you both the best of luck.”

Merlin smiled faintly. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

Chapter Text

“Right, so we’ll dock just outside Camelot tomorrow morning and ride for a few hours to be back for the celebratory banquet by the evening.”

Arthur groaned.

“There’s a banquet?” He asked, his voice rising to a slightly childish whine. “Why is there always a banquet?”

“Just to spite you, I’m sure.”

Merlin grinned.

Arthur glared at him, the corners of his mouth twitching into a slight smile. Merlin was ecstatic to see this; Arthur had been incredibly melancholic the past few days and had yet to laugh even once.

Merlin focused his attention back onto his dinner, which included a heap of a strange grey stew and an apple that he had yet to touch. The cooking was less than incredible on this ship, but aside from it being rather bland and comprised of strange textures it was usually edible.

Arthur was nearly back to his old self, except with a certain heaviness to everything he did. Nobody else seemed to notice, though, and laughed and joked with him as unreservedly as before. Unlike the first meal on the ship, their table was full of sailors who all wanted to hear how Merlin had defeated the siren. Thankfully, none of them seemed to care about why he or Arthur had been immune.

Sam sat to Merlin’s left, and Arthur sat to his right. Despite Merlin’s reassurance, Sam had declined to sit beside Arthur. He still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of him, it seemed.

Merlin chattered away with the sailors freely, trying his best to downplay his role in the whole situation but failing miserably.

“Arthur struck the first blow, if he hadn’t-“

“But you killed it?”

“Well, yes, but I only-“

“He killed it!”

The table erupted into cheers.

Merlin glanced over and caught Arthur grinning into his mug, clearly enjoying Merlin’s attempts to pacify the crowd. Apparently, it was amusing enough that he didn’t even mind the lack of credit. Merlin found that he suddenly felt lighter.

Sam nudged his shoulder and pointed across the table where the captain was lingering nearby, clearly wanting to talk to Arthur. Merlin frowned, and turned to nudge Arthur.

“Hm?”

“The captain looks like he wants a word.”

Arthur raised his head and peered across the table with lidded eyes. A grin began to creep across his lips.

“Here’s a word: No.”

Samuel spit out his drink. Merlin couldn’t help himself; he burst into laughter so hard that the entire table had no choice but to join in. Arthur didn’t laugh, but his smile grew slightly wider. The captain’s face was nearly maroon from rage, and he turned on his heel and left the dining hall in a flourish.

“That takes care of that, then,” Arthur said, taking another sip of his drink.

Merlin had finally recovered from his laughing fit and fixed Arthur with a crooked grin.

“Are you really not going to talk to him?”

“Why should I?”

“Arthur, he didn’t-“

“I know he didn’t. I believe you. That’s not what I’m talking about.” Arthur said, his eyes darkening. He didn’t elaborate, and something told Merlin that he had no intention to.

Arthur was considerably quieter for the rest of the night, and Merlin had the good sense to not push him any further.

***

The boat docked the next morning, and the scene was a repeat of the pre-voyage preparations in reverse; the crew were scurrying around and unloading crates as fast as they could while the captain wandered around and yelled at anyone who appeared to be slacking off. Merlin and Arthur stood at the railing, enjoying their last few moments with the open ocean.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Merlin said, repeating Arthur’s own words from the first day. He looked sideways at Arthur and noted the small smile that had settled on his lips. When Arthur didn’t respond, he tried again.

“Not talking, are you?” He asked, lightly nudging Arthur’s arm.

“Yes, you should try it sometime.” Arthur replied coolly.

Merlin grinned. That sounded almost like the Arthur he knew. He was just about to respond with an equally teasing retort when Arthur spoke again.

“You will accept credit for killing the Siren, won’t you?”

Merlin blinked. He hadn’t expected that.

“What?”

“I’m not going to pretend as if you didn’t strike the killing blow, even if it isn’t what people expect to hear,” Arthur explained. “If I tell everyone at the banquet what you did, will you accept credit?”

Merlin faltered slightly. He laughed to try and disguise it, but Arthur’s face told him that he’d seen right through it.

“I didn’t do it for credit.”

“I know. However, I didn’t ask why you did it.”

“I imagine your father wouldn’t be very happy about it.”

“I didn’t ask what my father would say, either,” Arthur said, keeping his gaze steady. “Perhaps we should have your hearing checked when we get back.”

Merlin sighed. Arthur wasn’t going to give up.

“Alright. I’ll accept credit, but only on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“If your father decides to execute me, I get to say I told you so.”

Arthur fixed him with a mildly derisive look and laughed.

“He wouldn’t execute you.”

Arthur thought for a moment.

“He PROBABLY wouldn’t execute you,” he amended.

“I feel better already.”

At that moment, Samuel approached, a wide smile on his face. He bowed to Arthur and gave Merlin a little wave, appearing to be in a good mood.

“It’s been a pleasure to have you aboard, my lord,” he told Arthur.

“It’s been a pleasure to be aboard,” Arthur said, giving him a warm smile.

“If I may, my lord, there is something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Arthur frowned.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not exactly,” Sam began. “I would just like to inform you that there are scratch marks along the bottom of the port side of the ship.”

“What am I meant to make of this?”

“We believe the siren is the one who veered the boat off its course.”

“Hang on,” Merlin cut in. “If the siren was below the boat the entire time why did it take so long for the song to reach us?”

Samuel tightened his mouth into a thin line and fixed the two men with a grave expression.

“The captain believes there may be more sirens on that isle. The one beneath the boat may have been intending to draw us all into the water once we were close enough.”

Arthur nodded, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. To the average person, it appeared to be a look of determination. Merlin knew better. It was cold fear.

“Thank you for telling me.” Arthur said, giving the boy a grim look.

Samuel nodded and turned to Merlin.

“This is goodbye, then.”

“Take care of yourself, Sam.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said with a smile. He extended his arms.

“How about a hug? Seeing as I’ll probably never see you again.”

Merlin laughed and allowed himself to be pulled into an embrace. Arthur stood by with an odd look on his face.

“Take care of him,” Samuel whispered into his ear.

“I’ll try.” Merlin whispered back.

Sam patted Merlin’s back and released him.

“I’ll be off, then,” he said. “Take care, both of you.”

Then, as if realizing how casually he had addressed the prince, his eyes widened and he started to correct himself. Arthur held up a hand and smiled.

“Take care, Samuel. I hope to see you again someday.”

“As do I.”

And with that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd of sailors rushing busily around the boat. Merlin smiled at his back. He would miss Sam.

Arthur clasped a hand on his shoulder and gave him a light shove towards where a few horses had been set up for their return. Merlin shot him an annoyed look.

“What? We have to get going if we’re to make the banquet on time,” Arthur said defensively.

A moment later they were saddled up and en route to Camelot. Their party was small, consisting only of Merlin, Arthur, and six sailors who had been chosen to represent the entire crew at the banquet. The body of the siren had been strapped to a ninth horse, its side patched up so that it no longer leaked the strange black substance. Arthur insisted that the siren ride at the back of the pack; he refused to even look at it.

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Arthur addressed Merlin in an overly casual voice.

“It seems you and Samuel got to be rather close.”

“He was a good friend to have on the journey.” Merlin said, giving Arthur a suspicious glance. The timing of his comment was rather strange.

“He seemed less frightened of me, at least,” Arthur mused. He looked at Merlin sideways with a small smile playing at his lips. “You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?”

“I might have,” Merlin admitted. “It wasn’t difficult.”

“Oh?”

“All I had to do was tell him about the time you got so startled by a rabbit on a hunting trip that you tripped and knocked yourself out.”

Arthur‘s head snapped towards him and his mouth fell open in shock.

“That NEVER happened.”

“Perhaps not, but it certainly helped alleviate his fear, didn’t it?”

The sailors riding behind them were shaking with silent laughter, being too afraid to openly mock the prince. Arthur shot them a nasty look and they fell silent, muttering small apologies and casting their eyes downward.

“Have you ever considered that maybe things like that are the reason Samuel feared you?” Merlin pointed out, grinning.

“Do you intend on acting like a fool the entire way back?” Arthur asked with a note of exasperation in his tone.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“If you intend on acting like a prat the entire way back.”

Arthur groaned.

“It’s going to be a long ride, isn’t it?”

Merlin grinned.

“You’re a quick learner, my lord.”

Chapter Text

Arthur’s jaw was set, his hands carefully folded into fists, and his eyes seeming determined to land anywhere that wasn’t a human face. Uther sat on his left, a reserved smile on his face and a glass in his hand. They hadn’t looked at each other a single time. On Uther’s left was a woman Merlin didn’t recognize but understood to be royalty of some sort judging by the ornate crown that sat upon her head. Assumedly, she was the queen of the seaside kingdom that had ordered the siren dead.

Merlin leaned down and acted as if he was refilling Arthur’s glass.

“What’s that woman’s name?”

Arthur glanced over at her and squinted.

“Honestly, I haven’t got the faintest idea. It began with an A, I think.” He said distractedly. Clearly, his mind was elsewhere.

“Why wasn’t the captain invited?”

Arthur turned in his seat to face Merlin at this and fixed him with an excessively fake smile.

“Would YOU invite him?”

“Fair point.”

Merlin straightened up and returned to his spot against the wall. Gwen gave him a smile and glanced at Arthur, who was staring at the siren intently and frowning.

“He seems to be in a strange mood.” She pointed out, concern apparent in her tone.

“He’s been like that for days,” Merlin replied, noting the white-knuckled grip Arthur had on the edge of the table

“Do you know why?”

“I have a guess.”

“I take it you can’t tell me.”

“I’m not sure.”

Gwen tightened her mouth into a line and nodded.

“I understand.”

Merlin nudged her arm and gave her a grin.

“If I’m ever allowed to say, you’ll be the first person I tell. Promise.”

Gwen laughed.

“You better.”

On Arthur’s other side sat Morgana, looking exceptionally bored and like she’d rather be anywhere else than at this banquet. She’d given the siren stories a good fifteen seconds of attention when she first entered, but now sat fiddling with her silverware and doing very little to disguise her lack of interest. Gwen hovered behind her, occasionally having to stifle fits of laughter when Morgana turned around specifically to roll her eyes at something Arthur or Uther had said. These moments were the only times when Morgana actually seemed to be enjoying herself.

One one such occasion when Morgana turned around, she gestured for Merlin to come over. When he hesitated, Gwen gave him a light nudge forward. He leaned down and smiled.

“What do you need?”

Morgana laughed.

“Oh, nothing, I just never got a chance to say hello! I trust the journey back was pleasant?”

“Yes, it was enjoyable enough.”

“Good. Now,” Morgana said, a devious glint in her eye. “What was he like under the spell?”

“What?”

Morgana jerked her head at Arthur, who had caught onto the conversation at this point and turned around. He groaned.

“Morgana, that’s not-“

“Hush, Arthur, the adults are talking,” she said airily, waving a hand in his face and turning her attention back to Merlin. “Now tell me. What was he like?”

Merlin knew that Morgana was joking around and that she had no way of knowing the gravity of what she had asked. He didn’t fault her for that. However, he found himself at a loss for what to say instead of the truth. Arthur was looking at him with a stony expression but a plea in his eyes.

“I have no idea,” Merlin decided to say. “I was too busy saving his life to take much notice.”

This seemed to satisfy Morgana, and she turned to tease Arthur even more. While Merlin retreated back to his spot, Arthur caught his eye and nodded, a grateful smile on his face. Merlin shook his head in response, a nonverbal “Don’t worry about it.”

Gwen nudged his arm and smiled.

“Saved his life again, did you?”

Merlin grinned sheepishly.

“I may have. You know how careless he can get.”

“At any rate, I’m glad you’re both safe. That thing is horrible,” she said, meaning the siren.

Merlin nodded. He had to agree with that sentiment.

The six crew members made up the rest of the table and were chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Arthur had tried to get Merlin a seat at the table as well, a suggestion of which Uther had vehemently disapproved.

“He’s a servant, Arthur.” Uther had said, a hint of amusement in his voice as if the very concept was laughable.

“Father, he saved my life,” Arthur had protested and gestured to Merlin, who was standing behind him and feeling a bit awkward. He didn’t particularly enjoy being talked about as if he weren’t there.

“Surely you can make an exception?”

“My decision is final, Arthur. The boy will serve at the banquet as usual.”

Merlin couldn’t remember if he’d ever heard Uther use his name. Generally, it was something like “boy,” or “serving boy.” Or, on special occasions when he had done something especially wrong, “THAT serving boy.”

At present, Uther stood, raising his glass to the sky and turning to address the crowd. Morgana swiveled in her seat to roll her eyes, and Gwen put a hand to her mouth to conceal a giggle. Merlin grinned.

“Dear friends, I believe a toast is in order,” Uther began, beaming out at the audience. “To my son, Arthur, and the brave men who helped bring him home and rid the world of this menace.” Uther pointed to the siren’s body, which had been propped up on a pedestal in the center of the room.

“And, naturally, we must recognize the lovely Queen Aldith for providing the means of travel and the manpower that made the voyage a success,” Uther said, and the woman stood up to be recognized. She gave the crowd a dazzling smile and bowed her head in recognition of their applause. Merlin decided that he quite liked her. He didn’t have much evidence to support this conclusion, but she seemed friendly enough in comparison to Uther.

Arthur turned to face Merlin and snapped his fingers.

“Aldith!” He mouthed, looking very proud of himself.

Merlin gave him an encouraging nod.

As Uther began to sit down, Arthur glanced around, snatched his glass off of the table, and rose to his feet. Before anyone could process what was happening, he began to speak.

“I would also like to extend my thanks to my servant, Merlin, who almost singlehandedly killed the siren,” Arthur announced. “He saved my life, and is the very reason that I was able to return at all.”

So Arthur had been serious about giving him credit. A nice gesture, provided Uther didn’t decide to execute him over it. The crowd began to clap and cheer, and Merlin smiled uncomfortably. He waved in a general direction and prayed he didn’t look as foolish as he felt.

Gwen gave him an excited thumbs up and smiled brightly while Morgana grinned and clapped louder than anyone else. Queen Aldith was clapping as well; she made eye contact with Merlin and nodded as if to thank him.

Uther leapt to his feet and hissed that perhaps Arthur might have had too much to drink.

Not a drop, came the reply.

Tense silence followed.

It remained until Uther finally broke and sat down first, glowering at his plate with murder in his eyes. Murder that Merlin could only hope wasn’t directed at him.

Arthur took his seat right after, his jaw set and his shoulders tense.

After a minute or two of awkward quiet, the volume in the hall resumed. Arthur relaxed slightly, but he kept staring at the siren’s body with an intense look in his eyes, indicating that something was still bothering him. Something that, Merlin had a feeling, didn’t have anything to do with Uther. A mask of indifference dominated Arthur’s face but the look in his eyes betrayed that he was thinking very deeply.

Arthur had purposely and knowingly gone against his father, something that was incredibly out of character for him, just to extend credit to Merlin. Why?

Samuel’s earlier words rang in his ears but he shut them out, physically shaking his head as if to rid himself of the concept.

It had to be something else.

After a moment, Arthur turned and motioned for Merlin to fill his mug. Merlin approached the table obediently, but before he could actually go about raising the jug, Arthur spoke to him in a low voice.

“Follow my lead.”

“What?”

Before Merlin could ask any further questions, Arthur tapped Uther on the shoulder. The king turned, his eyes darting to Merlin and narrowing with disapproval.

“Father, I believe I’ve fallen ill. With your permission, I’d like to retire to my chambers for the night.” Arthur said, his voice lighter and more nonthreatening than usual.

Uther gave him a deeply skeptical look, but apparently deciding that it wasn’t worth it to argue, he nodded. He had already been embarrassed enough for one night.

“Merlin, run over to Gaius’s chambers and fetch me something for nausea, would you?” Arthur said, his words over enunciated and deliberate.

“Uh, of course. Right away, my lord,” Merlin said, still confused on what was happening.

The two exited the hall together, and when Merlin made to turn the corner towards Gaius’s chambers he was roughly redirected by Arthur’s hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not ACTUALLY going to Gaius’s chambers, Merlin.” Arthur hissed.

“Forgive me for not being able to infer your entire plan from ‘Follow my lead,’” Merlin snapped, swatting Arthur’s hand off of his shoulder. “Where am I going, then?”

“My chambers.”

This caught Merlin utterly off guard for reasons he didn’t care to think too hard about.

“Why?”

“I need to talk.”

He left it at that.

Once they were safely within Arthur’s chambers, Arthur finally dropped the facade and sank into a chair. He looked exhausted.

“Is something the matter?” Merlin asked cautiously, knowing full well that something was the matter.

“My father, for one. YOU killed the siren. You saved my life. He knew that, and yet he explicitly left you out of his speech.”

Arthur was fuming. He glanced up at Merlin and calmed down minutely, a small smile forming on his face.

“The one time you do anything useful and he won’t even give you credit for it.” He mused. “It’s quite cruel when you think about it.”

Forcing himself to ignore the irony, Merlin laughed.

“I’m sure he was just trying to save your ego.”

“I do NOT have an ego.”

“If you insist.”

Arthur glared.

“Somehow, you manage to be even more irritating when you agree with me.”

“One of my natural talents.”

“Anyways,” Arthur continued, voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. “I need to talk to you.”

Merlin took this as an invitation to sit down, so he sank into a chair across from Arthur.

“I’m not even sure if it’s a good idea to tell you this, but you’re the only other person who wasn’t affected.” Arthur began wearily. “I need to ask you something.”

Merlin nodded. Vulnerability from Arthur Pendragon was a rare commodity.

“Go ahead.”

“Did the siren ever affect you? Even once?

Merlin shook his head.

“No.”

Then, as an afterthought.

“Why do you ask?”

Arthur’s eyes fell to the floor.

“I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“That’s certainly unusual.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“Right, got it.”

Arthur sighed.

“Did you talk to anyone who had been under the spell?” Arthur asked hesitantly.

“Only Samuel.”

“And what did he say it felt like?”

“He said it felt like floating or falling asleep. He also mentioned that it felt as if you were going to be okay,” Merlin recalled. “Something like that, anyways.”

Arthur let out a humorless laugh.

“That was hardly the case for me.”

Merlin frowned.

“What?”

Arthur was gripping the edges of the table as if he were afraid they’d fall off.

“The song didn’t feel like that to me.” He finally said, his voice strained.

He didn’t speak for a few minutes.

Merlin waited patiently, sensing that he would continue when he was ready.

“When it had me under its spell it-“ Arthur attempted to explain but cut himself off. He took in a shaky breath. His hands were trembling.

Finally, he forced his gaze upwards and looked Merlin dead in the eye.

“It was agony.”

The words hung in the air as if they were tangible, the implications hitting Merlin in waves.

This, then, was what had been bothering him since the siren had fallen.

“Arthur,” Merlin said quietly. It was all he could think to say. What could anyone say to that? What could anyone say to make it better?

Arthur looked back down at the table. His voice shook with poorly disguised emotion.

“It hurt.”

He looked up at Merlin.

“It isn’t supposed to hurt,” Arthur said weakly. “It’s meant to attract you. Why would the song only work on me when it was painful? Why did I only listen when it felt like my life was over and there was nothing I could do about it?”

His eyes were swimming with emotion.

“If the song was meant to lure me in, why did it hurt me? Why was I only entranced when it caused me pain?”

Arthur was almost pleading at this point.

Pleading for what, Merlin couldn’t say.

“What’s wrong with me?” Arthur finally asked, gluing his gaze to the table and keeping it there.

“There isn’t anything wrong with you.”

“Really?” Arthur scoffed. “Tell me, what did Samuel see while under the spell?”

“He saw a beautiful woman in white,” Merlin answered, his heart aching. Arthur was breathing heavily, his grip on the table growing even tighter.

“I saw something horrible.” He glanced up at Merlin and immediately lowered his gaze again.

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Merlin assured him.

He thought for a moment

“Can I ask you something?”

Arthur nodded.

“Did the horrible thing you saw involve something bad happening to somebody else?”

Arthur tightened his mouth into a line and nodded again.

Merlin gave him a gentle smile.

“Perhaps the reason it hurt is because your instinct is to save.”

At this, Arthur looked up.

“What do you mean?” He asked quietly.

“Sirens are meant to show you everything you want,” Merlin explained. “Perhaps all you want is for other people to be okay.”

Arthur listened intently, his expression softening.

“Think about it,” Merlin continued quietly. “All you want is to save others. All you want is to help. Therefore, the siren couldn’t entice you with selfish desires; it showed you somebody’s else’s pain because it knew you would want to alleviate it.”

Arthur was speechless. He released the table from his grip and slumped back in his chair, eyes wide.

Merlin shook his head and smiled at him.

“You are not broken, Arthur.“

Arthur looked back at him, his eyes filled with emotion.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“You don’t need to thank me for telling the truth,” Merlin insisted.

Arthur coughed and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. He let out a shaky laugh.

“I don’t know why I bothered telling you this,” he admitted. “But I’m glad I did.”

Merlin grinned.

“I’m glad you did, too.”

Arthur gazed at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Eventually, he got to his feet. Merlin followed suit.

“I think I’m going to try and get some sleep.” Arthur announced.

“I think I’ll do the same.”

Merlin gave him a quick smile and was about to make for the door when Arthur stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Before he knew what was happening, he was pulled back and into a tight hug.

He blinked. This was unusual.

But, Merlin thought as he brought his arms up to return the hug. It was definitely not unpleasant.

He smiled.

When they broke apart, Arthur took a few measured steps backward and coughed.

“No one can know about this,” He warned.

“Of course, we can’t very well let people know that you have feelings,” Merlin said with faux concern. “There’d be riots in the streets, I’m sure.”

“Exactly.”

Then, as an afterthought.

“Goodnight, Merlin.”

“Goodnight.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Merlin awoke to the sound of muffled conversation coming from the room adjacent to his. Gaius and a patient, he reasoned. It wasn’t unheard of for someone to come in at this hour with some sort of minor problem they couldn’t figure out how to solve themselves. Nowadays, it was a fairly frequent occurrence. Merlin had already written off the voices as nothing unusual and was rolling over to go back to sleep when he heard a loud bang and swearing coming from the inner chamber.

Right. Not the usual visit, then.

Merlin threw the covers off and leapt out of bed, preparing himself for whatever special brand of terror had slinked into Gaius’s chambers this early in the morning. He flung the door open and froze. Gaius was speaking to someone with a note of exasperation in his tone.

“I’m sorry, sire, but the principle is the same in every-“

Gaius noticed the creak of the door and turned around.

“Merlin!”

“Merlin.”

Arthur was sat at Gaius’s table, hands folded in his lap and shoulders squared. His eyes were darkened with an indeterminate emotion and he looked as solemn as Merlin had ever seen him.

“What was that noise?” Merlin asked, looking from Gaius to Arthur suspiciously.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Arthur said curtly. He rose from where he was sitting and pushed in his chair, clearly making to leave.

Merlin frowned. This was certainly different from the previous night’s exchange.

They locked eyes. Arthur couldn’t seem to hold his gaze.

Gaius was looking more than a little befuddled at all of this, and he shot Merlin a questioning glance that went unanswered.

“I’ll be going, then.” Arthur announced. He turned on his heel and walked briskly out of the room with the air of one who would rather be running.

“What was that noise?” Merlin asked again, eyes still glued to the spot where Arthur had once been.

Gaius sighed.

“I don’t know what happened on that voyage, but I fear Arthur isn’t telling me everything.”

“I know the feeling,” Merlin agreed with a tinge of annoyance. He couldn’t tell if Gaius was avoiding his question on purpose or not, and therefore was reserving his irritation for another time.

Merlin slid into the seat Arthur had abandoned. Gaius sat down to join him.

“What was that noise?” Merlin repeated for the final time.

“Oh, yes. Arthur hit the table.”

“He hit... the table?”

“Yes. With his fist.”

“I figured as much.”

They fell silent. Merlin sighed, trying his hardest to control his annoyance.

“Can you tell me WHY he hit the table?”

“He was angry.” Gaius replied as if it were obvious.

“Why was he angry?” Merlin asked, dragging his hands down his face. Gaius couldn’t be blamed. He wasn’t aware of Merlin’s rather personal involvement in this.

That was what Merlin was telling himself to prevent an outburst, at any rate.

“All I told him was that sirens show you the person you love most. I assumed he knew.” Gaius said defensively. “He was briefed on the dangers of the siren’s song weeks in advance; I saw to it myself.

“That can’t have been all.” Merlin insisted, a pit of dread growing in his stomach.

“Arthur asked if there were any exceptions and I said that I had never heard of any. Then he hit the table. I didn’t have time to explain that the love could potentially be platonic as well, which I’m sure would have eased whatever anxieties he may be carrying about the whole thing,” Gaius explained. “He does have a bit of a temper, sometimes.”

Merlin frowned.

“I’m well aware of that. Did he say anything else?”

“He asked if there was any record of survivors experiencing immunity from the song at first, and I told him there was.”

Gaius paused to open a book that was placed between them. It was a large leather-bound book with pristine pages and few pictures.

“This was sent to me the moment Uther agreed to send men to the Isle. It contains written accounts from survivors, detailed reports from missions, everything of that sort.”

He opened to a section that was titled “Francis Bennet.”

“I pointed Arthur to this record. About three years ago, a man named Francis Bennet was sent on a usual trade related voyage from Queen Aldith’s land. They passed the Isle and suffered only one fatality.”

“What was the fatality?” Merlin asked uneasily.

“One of the three women aboard jumped ship.”

“Because of the siren?”

“It doesn’t say.”

Gaius’s face was grave.

“However,” he continued. “When the crew returned they were questioned heavily about their experience. All of those accounts went into this book, which means we have reliable accounts of what one experiences while under the song. Including the firsthand account of Francis Bennet.”

“He wasn’t affected?”

“He was, but not at first. Francis’s account claimed that the siren initially did not affect him, and that he went under only when the siren sang a different song.”

Gaius tightened his mouth into a thin line and sighed. “Arthur didn’t tell me much, but from what I could tell, he experienced something similar.”

Merlin nodded grimly.

“Something like that.”

Gaius bowed his head before continuing.

“Francis was quoted as saying that the song felt like ‘agony.’ He reported ‘excessive crying and major emotional distress’ as his main symptoms. Nearby crew members, when asked, said that he was saying the name ‘Allard.’”

“Allard.” Merlin mused. “That’s a man’s name.”

He had a bad feeling about this.

Sam’s words still hovered over him like dark clouds.

“Precisely,” Gaius said. “When every other crew member was asked about what they saw, it was always their wife, lover, or a lady in white. When Francis was asked what he saw, he claimed he saw his best friend, Allard Manning. He said Allard was standing on the edge of the ship as if he were about to jump, and Francis felt as if he was powerless to save him.”

Merlin leaned back, allowing this to sink in.

Gaius watched his reaction carefully, a concerned line forming between his brows.

Arthur had said Merlin’s name.

Francis had said his best friend’s name.

That was it, then!

Merlin nearly laughed. Samuel was wrong, and this proved it!

Gaius looked shocked, but a hesitant smile dawned on his face when he realized Merlin was actually glad about this revelation.

Merlin grinned back.

Whatever Sam had thought Arthur’s words under the spell had meant, it wasn’t true. All that it had proved was that Arthur cared for Merlin a tad more than he knew about, which was by all means a nice thing to hear. Best friend was a title Merlin was happy to accept, particularly when the alternative was utterly impossible and terrifying.

Something still felt off, but Merlin decided to ignore it. He deserved a moment of peace, he reasoned.

“Francis was found to be of his right mind, so his account was assumed as accurate” Gaius mentioned, eyeing Merlin with gentle suspicion.

“What happened to him afterwards?” Merlin asked eagerly.

“Nothing much. He never married or had kids, and took up residence in the outskirts of the kingdom.” Gaius replied. “He lives there to this day.”

Merlin groaned.

“How much of that did you tell Arthur?”

“All of it.”

Merlin got to his feet and made for his room. Gaius blinked, confused.

“What are you doing?”

“Arthur will be headed there as soon as he can.”

“How do you know?”

“He’ll want more answers, I’m sure.”

Gaius sighed deeply. He stared at Merlin for a long moment, his face etched with confusion and his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Merlin looked back, trying his best to appear as if he had nothing to hide. He recognized the look Gaius was giving him.

Eventually, Gaius spoke. His voice was soft and measured.

“Would it be overstepping to ask what happened on that voyage, Merlin?”

Merlin faltered. He hadn’t exactly been expecting that question.

“How much did Arthur tell you?”

“Virtually nothing.”

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to say.”

“That’s only natural; I understand completely,” Gaius assured him. He rose to his feet. “May I ask one more question, though?”

“I suppose,” Merlin said, already preparing himself to lie.

“What did Arthur say while he was enchanted?”

“Nothing.” Merlin said quickly.

Gaius nodded as if he didn’t believe him. He had a small smile on his face as if he knew something that Merlin didn’t. Merlin found himself irrationally annoyed at this, and walked into his room in a huff.

“Merlin?” Gaius called.

Merlin poked his head out from the doorway.

“What?”

“It might interest you to know that Francis does not live alone.”

Merlin frowned.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Merlin, he lives with his best friend,” Gaius said, emphasizing the last two words. He looked at Merlin expectantly, searching his expression for something of which Merlin was not aware.

Merlin blinked. He was still confused how Francis’s living arrangements were relevant.

“What am I meant to make of that?”

Gaius sighed deeply. He looked at Merlin for a long time, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Whatever you want, I suppose.”

Chapter Text

“I still haven’t the faintest idea how you knew I would be leaving.”

Merlin and Arthur had set off for Queen Aldith’s territory early in the morning, baring enough supplies for a few days and the book of firsthand accounts that Gaius had shown the both of them. The sun was just barely visible above the horizon and the entire world seemed to glow a soft misty grey. Birdsong had not yet begun, the air smelled of rain, and there was scarcely any sound save for the soft thud of hooves on wet dirt and the quiet whispering of the leaves overhead.

“I already told you,” Merlin replied easily. “Gaius mentioned what he’d told you and I knew you would want to know more.”

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and looked over at Merlin suspiciously.

“That doesn’t explain much.”

Merlin laughed.

“You are not nearly as secretive or mysterious as you like to believe.”

Arthur glared for a moment but couldn’t help a grin eventually creeping onto his face.

“Am I really that easy to read?”

“You’re like a children’s book, my lord.”

“Am I?” Arthur scoffed. “I believe you, Merlin, are more like a book about magic.”

Merlin nearly fell off of his horse.

“What? Why?” He asked quickly, praying the fear hadn’t translated to his words.

“Because you are filled with utter nonsense and more than likely to get someone killed.”

“Right. Of course.” Merlin laughed nervously.

Arthur smiled smugly, believing he’d won. Merlin was still trying to control his breathing after that near death experience.

The birds had begun singing, offering the perfect accompaniment to the steadily rising sun as it’s pink rays began to streak across the sky. Merlin glanced aside and found Arthur’s eyes trained on the path ahead.

He sighed.

Arthur only ever looked at the sky when he was relaxed.

After a moment, he turned to face Merlin.

“I want to apologize.”

“For what?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“Ah, right. You were a bit mean.”

Arthur’s mouth fell open and he smiled despite himself.

“Mean? Again?”

“It seems to be a hobby of yours.”

Arthur chuckled but shook his head slightly and cleared his throat.

“Honestly, though. I was out of line.” He insisted. “I have been for quite some time, I think.”

“You’ve apologized a lot recently,” Merlin quipped. “It seems as though you’ve been on an introspective streak.”

“Something like that.” Arthur admitted. He sighed, giving Merlin an apologetic smile. “It’s unfair of me to take things out on you. I’m sorry.”

His eyes were solemn and his posture relaxed. There wasn’t a hint of tension in his jaw and his grip on the horse’s reigns was loose. His eyes raised to the sky, the pink streaks reflecting sharply against the light blue.

Arthur really did mean it, this time. He meant it more than any other time before.

Merlin smiled.

“It’s alright. Honest.”

Arthur bowed his head slightly, relief etched onto his face.

“Thank you.”

They rode in comfortable silence for the next few hours.

Queen Aldith’s lands were characterized by a far rockier and drier terrain than the lush forests surrounding Camelot, and as such the inner city was a massive stone labyrinth that seemed to be carved from a mountain of some sort. As the city came into view, Arthur’s jaw dropped.

“That’s incredible,” he breathed. He laughed and nudged Merlin’s arm.

“It’s amazing,” Merlin agreed. “I think I would miss the colors, though.”

Arthur tilted his head.

“Colors?”

“Well, it’s all a bit grey down there, isn’t it?” Merlin pointed out. “In Camelot there’s more colors. It makes everything seem more alive, in a way.”

Merlin turned to Arthur, expecting an insult or a mocking laugh; however, he was dumbfounded to see a genuinely fond smile instead.

“I think I agree,” Arthur said, nodding.

Merlin tore his eyes away and coughed.

“Anyways, Gaius mentioned that Francis lives on the outskirts of the kingdom,” He said. “We’ve no reason to go near the inner city; it would be a better bet to ask around the smaller villages.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Merlin, but you seem to be under the impression that you’re the one in charge.” Arthur said, narrowing his eyes.

Merlin remained silent, and Arthur let out a short laugh.

“Well? Anything to say?”

“You said to correct you if you were wrong,” Merlin pointed out.

“So?”

“You’re not wrong,” Merlin shrugged. “I AM in charge.”

“What gave you that impression?” Arthur scoffed.

“It’s hard to say exactly, but it was mainly the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing and are by all accounts a complete idiot.”

“Merlin-!”

“And,” Merlin interrupted. “We’re going to end up doing what I said anyways.”

“No, we’re not.” Arthur said firmly. “Now, come on. We‘re going to ask around the smaller villages.”

“Fantastic idea, sire, I don’t know how you came up with it.”

“It’s a gift.”

After a few hours of interrogating unsuspecting villagers, they finally came across a man who claimed to know Francis. He was half passed out in a local tavern when they found him, and managed to admit with some coaxing that he knew Francis and that his name was something that started with a T. The major slurring of his words rather prevented Merlin or Arthur from catching the rest.

Arthur had quickly realized any questions that were to be answered with any sort of accuracy had to be as simple as possible. Merlin had not realized that, and attempted to ask such convoluted questions that Arthur had to step in and inform him that even a sober man would have trouble answering them.

“I think I’ll handle the talking,” He said. “You’ll fry the man’s brain with your nonsense.”

“Ah, I get it,” Merlin said, putting on a sickly sweet smile. “It makes sense that you would be better at dumbing things down.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Only that you’ve got a head start.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

Arthur cleared his throat and turned to the drunk man, who was giggling at the pair gleefully and clearly enjoying the show.

“Do you know where Francis lives?” Arthur tried.

“Just up the hill,” the man muttered, giving Merlin a dopey smile. “Never get let in, though.”

“Why not?”

“Him’n Allard hate strangers. Been burned before.”

Arthur and Merlin exchanged a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Arthur coaxed the man gently.

In response, he giggled and poked Arthur in the chest.

“You have no idea.”

“Nor, it seems, do you.” Arthur said, irritated. He turned to Merlin.

“Let’s get going. We know where Francis is; anything else can be dealt with when we get there.”

Merlin nodded. The pair made to leave but were roughly pulled back by the man trapping both of their wrists in a strangely firm grip. He stared at them, his eyes cold and much more focused than before.

“If you’re looking for a fight with those boys,” He warned. “Don’t bother showing up at all.”

He released their hands and threw them away as if they were filthy.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Merlin assured him.

The man nodded once and promptly passed out onto the counter.

Merlin and Arthur took that as their cue to leave.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure this is it?”

Arthur was suddenly looking a bit pale, and Merlin felt his heart ache to see it. He seemed terrified to talk to these men, which was a far cry from the courageous and well-trained diplomat that Arthur was meant to be.

“It’s the only house on a hill; it has to be.”

The house was small and simple but very well maintained. There was a little garden to the left and a neat stone path leading to the door.

Arthur turned to Merlin. “Go knock.”

“Me? Why do I have to?”

“Because,” Arthur said distractedly. He was staring at the door with fearful eyes. “You’re a fool.”

Merlin frowned. That was far from the creativity he generally expected when being insulted by Arthur.

“Fool? Interesting,” Merlin mused. He took a step back from the door and faked an apologetic look.

“My lord, I fear I’ve forgotten how to knock.”

“That isn’t funny.” Arthur snapped.

“I’m just such a blundering idiot, my lord. The process is simply too complex for me to handle.”

Arthur glared.

“My lord,” Merlin drawled. “Please forgive me of my ignorance.”

A hint of a grin settled on Arthur’s face and he rolled his eyes.

Merlin smiled.

Mission accomplished.

“I’ve suddenly remembered how! It’s a miracle,” Merlin announced, taking a few steps towards the door and raising his fist. Before he could knock, however, the door eased open and revealed a kind looking man of about 30. He had a round face with deep brown eyes and a head of dark curly hair that had been tied back into a small ponytail. He looked, Merlin thought, like the friendliest person in the world.

“Can I help you?” He asked, eyes flitting from Merlin to Arthur suspiciously but with a welcoming smile on his face.

“Hi! I’m sorry to bother you,” Merlin began, trying his best to look nonthreatening. “My friend and I were looking for a man by the name of Francis Bennet. Would you happen to know him?”

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“I might. What business do you have with him?”

“We wanted to ask a few questions about a trip he took three years ago. We’ve been told he encountered a siren.” Merlin explained.

The expression on the man’s face changed dramatically, and the smile vanished all at once.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve got the wrong house.”

The man made to slam the door but Merlin wedged his foot in the frame. It hurt quite a bit, but that wasn’t exactly what Merlin was focused on at the moment.

“Look,” he said in a pleading voice. “We aren’t here to cause trouble.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” the man growled.

Merlin dropped his voice to a whisper.

“My friend behind me, he had an experience exactly like Francis.”

The man’s expression softened slightly.

“He did?”

“Yes. The siren didn’t affect him at first, and then for some reason, it did. That’s all we know.”

The man looked at the ground, visibly conflicted.

“He’s scared,” Merlin whispered desperately. “Please.”

The man shot Arthur one last look before nodding.

“Alright. Bring him in.”

He extended a hand to Merlin and smiled warmly.

“Francis Bennet,” He said.

Merlin accepted his hand and returned the smile.

“I’m Merlin. That’s, uh, Samuel.”

Francis nodded and ushered Merlin and Arthur inside.

“Samuel, huh?” He greeted as Arthur passed. “I’ve never met a Samuel.”

Arthur laughed uncomfortably and roughly pulled Merlin aside.

“You told him my name was Samuel?” He hissed.

“Depending what he says it might not be the best idea for him to know who you are,” Merlin shrugged.

Arthur glared but Merlin could tell he agreed.

“So,” Francis began, politely ignoring his guests’ odd behavior. “Can I get you anything?”

“Why didn’t it work?” Arthur blurted. He looked as surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth as anyone.

Francis’s eyes widened slightly, and he chuckled.

“He’s an eager one, isn’t he?” He joked. Francis sighed and took a seat at a small table in the corner of the room. He gestured for the other two men to sit down.

“You’re in luck. I know why it didn’t work on me, and if your experience was like mine, I’m willing to bet that the answer is the same.”

Arthur leaned forward, his gaze steady and intense.

“Tell me. Please.”

“Let me explain something to you, first.” Francis began. “You probably won’t like the answer. I certainly didn’t.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Because,” Francis shrugged, a sad smile on his face. “Nobody ever likes to hear it at first.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you. But first, I’m going to need to know something.”

Arthur nodded.

“Whatever you need.”

Francis gave him a solemn look.

“In your own words, can you tell me exactly what happened when you encountered the siren? Leave no details out.”

Arthur sighed, obviously uncomfortable with the notion but too desperate for answers to refuse.

“We were on a voyage to the Isle itself, tasked with killing the siren.”

Francis let out an impressed breath.

“And did you?”

“Yes, actually. We’ve been told there may be more, but the one is dead at any rate,” Arthur said wearily. “For some reason, there weren’t any women aboard; we instead were given special tonics that rendered us immune to the siren’s song.”

Francis nodded, shooting Merlin a quizzical look when Arthur mentioned the lack of women. Merlin shrugged.

“The other men and myself were tied to the masts, and when we were near enough to hear the song, they went mad. Screaming, bashing their heads against the masts, spitting, the usual.” Arthur continued. “But I was unaffected. So was Merlin.”

To Arthur’s surprise, Francis smiled brightly.

“The both of you? Really?”

“Yes,” Merlin said hesitantly.

“That’s fantastic!”

“It... is?” Arthur said confusedly.

“Well, it might be. Anyways, go on.” Francis said excitedly.

Arthur glanced at Merlin, who shrugged again.

“The siren came aboard before we reached the Isle, and eventually it changed the song it was singing. The other crew members fell out of its spell and I fell under it.”

“Interesting. And what did you see?”

“I saw someone I care a great deal about, and something... horrible.” Arthur was struggling to get the words out at this point. Merlin lowered his gaze to the floor.

Francis nodded sadly.

“What was the horrible thing?” He asked. And, noticing Arthur’s face: “Take your time.”

Arthur took in a shaky breath and closed his eyes.

“I saw him walking towards the siren.”

The room fell silent. Francis released a breath he’d been holding. The fire crackled merrily, unaware of what had just been revealed.

Merlin’s blood ran cold.

“Can you elaborate, please?” Francis asked gently, looking rattled.

“I saw my friend walking toward the siren with his arm out, looking like he was under the spell,” Arthur explained, his voice shaky and his eyes downcast. “He was crying and I called out for him but he didn’t seem to be able to hear me.”

Merlin suddenly felt sick.

“Did he say anything?” Francis coaxed gently, his expression a cross between curiosity and pity.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his mouth into a line. He took a deep breath.

“He was saying my name.”

The revelation hung in the air for a moment. Everyone was afraid to speak, unsure of how best to continue. Arthur was shaking, and had buried his head in his hands.

This was the most vulnerable he had ever been with strangers, and it clearly wasn’t what he had intended from this visit.

Francis rose from his chair and made his way over to Arthur. He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and looked over at Merlin, who was just now conscious of the tears in his eyes. He wiped them away hurriedly and coughed.

“Go on, then.” Arthur choked out, raising his head slightly. “Tell me what it means.”

Francis gave Arthur a sad look, and sat back down in his chair to continue.

“You can take some more time if you need it. It’s alright.” He assured Arthur.

Arthur shook his head.

“Just get on with it.”

Francis gave Arthur a long, searching look. Then, seemingly having decided something, he sighed and began to speak again.

“The sirens start out with a general song. They show you beautiful women, your wife, your lover; it’s all the same to them.” Francis explained. “In a broad sense, the siren’s job is to show us what we want most, and that generally translates to love for most men. So, the siren shows them a woman who loves them. Are you following?”

Arthur nodded, his head still buried in his hands.

“The siren’s general song is the perfect weapon; it gets most men in one fell swoop. But for those of us that are, uh, immune to that sort of thing, the siren has to get more personal. The song it used when it got you was different, right?”

He addressed Arthur, who nodded again.

“That’s because it was ONLY for you. That song was crafted specifically to entrap you and you alone. They don’t use those songs very often because it’s only for the trickier ones, and they don’t go after individuals if the pickings are good.”

Arthur was silent.

“I understand it’s scary..” Francis sighed. “But there’s no other way to put it. Those of us that fall under the siren’s second spell do so because we don’t WANT a women to love us.”

“Wh-?“

Arthur was interrupted by the front door opening once more, and another man entered with an armful of firewood. He was whistling cheerfully but stopped when he noticed that he had guests.

“Hello,” He said, giving them a confused smile. “I didn’t realize we had guests.”

His voice was tinged with poorly concealed suspicion.

“It’s alright, Allard,” Francis said gently. “They’re good people.”

Allard was a tall, thin man, dressed in clothes that indicated he may be a blacksmith or something of the sort. His eyes were small and intelligent, and he had a wide smile that gave off the same air of friendliness as Francis’s.

“Allard, was it?” Merlin said, smiling. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope.” The man said, shaking Merlin’s hand. He turned to greet Arthur, but the prince was still mostly unresponsive.

“Is he alright?” Allard asked cautiously.

Francis pulled him aside and whispered something into his ear, causing tears to spring to his eyes. He pulled himself together quickly and set down the wood next to the fireplace.

“Has he been told, yet?” Allard asked quietly.

Francis shook his head.

Arthur looked up, his eyes red.

“Have I been told what?”

Allard glanced over at Francis and sighed.

“Let me tell you a story.”

“I don’t need a story, I need answers.” Arthur snapped.

“You read about Francis’s voyage, right? In the book? I expect that’s how you found us.” Allard said, ignoring Arthur.

“Yes,” Merlin answered before Arthur could cut in with something rude. He got waspish when he was upset.

“Then you know that the single fatality was a woman.”

Merlin nodded.

Allard linked his arm around Francis’s shoulder before continuing. His voice was quiet.

“Her name was Abigail. We both knew her.”

“I’m so sorry,” Merlin said softly.

“She jumped ship because of the siren.” Francis said. “The other women couldn’t stop her.”

“The siren affected her?” Arthur asked confusedly. “Was it the second song?”

“No,” Allard said, tightening his mouth into a line. “It was the first.”

“That’s impossible; I thought the song only worked on men.” Arthur said, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. His confusion was quickly turning to misplaced anger.

Francis shook his head.

“It only works on people who are attracted to women.”

“Wait,” Merlin breathed. “Abigail, was she-?”

Allard nodded.

“Information on the siren was limited at the time so she thought she’d be okay.”

Arthur looked as if he might throw up.

“What does that mean for me?” He asked desperately. “Please, I don’t understand.”

Allard and Francis exchanged a sorrowful look.

“If it means what it did for me,” Francis began. “Then your individual song showed you the person you truly want to be with. And as scary or impossible as it may seem, that person is not a woman.”

Arthur’s face drained of color.

“The siren’s first song mimics the love of a woman,” Allard continued gently. “Its second tailors to the individual. And since you saw-“

“There must be a different explanation.” Arthur interrupted.

“I’m afraid there’s no others that make sense.” Francis said apologetically.

“I HAVE to be an exception. Weren’t you?” Arthur demanded. “You saw your best friend, not some strange unrequited love.”

Allard gave him an odd look. Francis chuckled slightly.

“Allard and I are married,” He said gently. “I was no exception.”

Arthur was shaking.

“I can’t- that isn’t an option for me.”

“What does that mean?” Allard asked, shooting Merlin a questioning glance that went unanswered.

Arthur was staring straight ahead, unmoving. His jaw was set, his shoulders squared, his hands clenched into fists, and his eyes filled with anger but brimming with tears. He was spiraling.

“Arthur...?” Merlin asked, nudging his arm.

Francis froze.

“What did you just call him?”

“Arthur. I knew he looked familiar,” Allard said, a realization dawning on his face. “No wonder he’s terrified.”

“What? Who is he?”

“I need some air.” Arthur muttered, getting up and exiting the house quickly.

Merlin watched him go, feeling especially numb. His brain had all but shut off, trying to allow him to operate normally despite the multiple revelations and the implications that they brought with them. He knew it would all hit him later, but at the moment, nothing was sinking in. Merlin decided that was rather a good thing.

“Remember when we went to Camelot for the tournament on your birthday?” Allard was saying. “And the prince of Camelot was the champion?”

“Oh, right!” Francis exclaimed. “That was such a good one. What was that boy’s name again? Arnold? Artie? It’s on the tip of my tongue,”

“Arthur.” Allard said with equal parts fondness and exasperation. “His name was Arthur.”

“Oh, wasn’t that this boy’s name too?”

“That boy WAS prince Arthur.”

Francis’s jaw dropped. He rounded on Merlin.

“Who are YOU then?”

“Still Merlin,” Merlin reassured him. “I’m Arthur’s manservant.”

“Manservant?” Francis mused. “He seems to respect you a great deal for a manservant.”

Allard was deep in thought. After a few moments of silence, he looked up with a realization in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips.

“You’re his best friend, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know if-“

“Tell me, Merlin,” Allard began. “Did he happen to say your name while he was under the spell?”

Merlin shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Yes.”

Francis and Allard both smiled.

Merlin still couldn’t bring himself to process anything. Samuel’s words floated back into his head. He shuddered.

“I think we should get going,” Merlin said, giving the two men a half hearted smile. Francis rose and grabbed Merlin by the shoulders.

“When Arthur is ready, give him this from me, would you?” He said, and locked Merlin into a tight hug.

“Of course,” Merlin agreed, still dazed and unsure of what was happening.

Allard stood up to join them and gave Merlin a pat on the back.

“Come visit us sometime,” He grinned, and gave Merlin’s arm a nudge. “We’d love to have you.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said. “I think we will.”

He waved goodbye and made to leave; his hand was on the doorknob and easing the door open when Francis called after him and stopped him in his tracks.

“Oh, and Merlin?”

Merlin turned around expectantly.

Francis slipped his hand into Allard’s and smiled fondly.

“Take care of him.”

Chapter Text

“He just needs time, Merlin,” Gaius was saying, fumbling with the cork on a bottle that seemed entirely too small for human use. He glanced at the bottle, then at the table, mimed smashing the bottle on the table, then shook his head.

“Time? It’s been two weeks and he hasn’t said a word to me.” Merlin pointed out, feeling a pang of sadness at the reminder. It really had been a long time.

Gaius didn’t answer, he was too busy with the bottle to even notice he’d been spoken to. Merlin frowned.

“Gaius?”

“That’s great, Merlin.”

“Gaius!”

“Ooh, sounds interesting. Do go on.”

Merlin shot up out of his seat and snatched the bottle from Gaius. He held a hand over it and hissed a spell, sending the tiny cork sailing and landing neatly on the table. Merlin shoved the bottle back into Gaius’s hands.

“There. Now will you please help me out? Or at least listen?”

“I was listening,” Gaius said defensively, pouring the entirety of the little bottle into a comically large bowl.

“What do I do?” Merlin pleaded.

“Well, you could try flowers.” Gaius suggested, adding a bottle of clear liquid to the mixture.

Merlin busted out laughing but stopped when he noticed Gaius’s slightly bewildered expression.

“Wait, what do you think I’m asking for?” Merlin demanded.

“What do YOU think you’re asking for?” Gaius challenged.

Merlin narrowed his eyes.

“I just want things to go back the way they were.”

Gaius’s eyebrows shot up at this.

“Hm. Okay.”

He then turned and set back to work with his bowl, leaving Merlin to glower at his back.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“No, not especially,” Gaius said without turning around.

“Well, what do you think I should do?” Merlin asked, defeated. He had told Gaius everything and sworn him to secrecy, and ever since Gaius had been treating the subject as if it had an obvious solution. However, he never actually seemed inclined to offer that solution, which infuriated Merlin to no end. Why did everyone he told about the situation seem to act like they knew something that he didn’t? He had toyed with the idea of petitioning Kilgharrah for help but the idea of the snide comments and unhelpful proverbs that would inevitably come of that had prevented him from trying.

“I think you shouldn’t treat him any differently,” Gaius said simply. “Arthur was dealt a large blow; the last thing he needs is for you to start treating him like a wounded animal.”

Merlin frowned.

“You may be right.”

“It happens every so often.” Gaius said, giving Merlin a teasing smile.

Suddenly, the door to Gaius’s chambers flew open with an ear shattering bang. Gaius started at the noise and dropped the bottle he was holding, sending broken glass and violently pink liquid in every direction.

“What on earth are you-?” Gaius began to scold the unseen culprit but froze when he turned around.

Standing in the doorway, chest heaving as if she’d been sprinting and face stricken with concern, was Morgana.

“Merlin.” She gasped, leaning against the door frame for support.

“What’s happened?” Merlin asked, jumping out of his seat.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” Gaius said from where he was crouched on the floor, dabbing at the puddle of pink liquid with a rag. “I’ll just clean up this broken glass and rat poison myself, no need to help me.”

“It’s Arthur,” Morgana said, purposefully ignoring Gaius. “He’s on his way here.”

“What? What does he want?” Merlin asked, a tinge of dread starting to creep into his voice.

“I’m not sure,” Morgana replied uneasily. “I saw him storming out of the counsel room. Uther was there as well, and he didn’t look pleased.”

“Were they arguing?”

“Most likely.”

“What have you done this time?” Gaius addressed Merlin, straightening back up and setting to work properly disposing of the broken glass.

“I haven’t done anything,” Merlin replied defensively. “Not that I know of, anyways.”

“Arthur looked more angry than I’ve ever seen him.” Morgana said grimly.

Merlin nodded. Morgana gave his shoulder a squeeze for encouragement and was about to leave when someone else barged through the door, nearly running directly into Merlin.

“Gwen!” He exclaimed, catching her by her shoulders and helping steady her. “What are you doing?”

Her face was flushed and she was breathing heavily, obviously having sprinted the whole way as Morgana did.

“Merlin, Arthur is-!”

“I know. Morgana explained everything to me.”

“What? Oh!” Gwen exclaimed, finally noticing Morgana. She waved sheepishly, and Morgana returned it with a matching wave and a bright smile.

“He looked mad,” Gwen notified Merlin uneasily.

“Let’s get out of his way, then,” Morgana suggested, linking her arm in Gwen’s and guiding her towards the door.

“Hang on, you’re going to leave me to deal with him alone?” Merlin asked, bewildered and more than a little betrayed.

“Nothing personal, Merlin, he’s just rather unpleasant when he’s like this,” Morgana explained.

“Good luck, Merlin!” Gwen called behind her as they left.

“Wait for me!” Gaius said, throwing down his materials and making for the door.

“Why are you leaving?” Merlin demanded.

Gaius was already out the door before he could answer. Merlin sighed, resigning himself to being either ignored or yelled at.

A few moments later, the door creaked open far gentler than Merlin had been expecting, and Arthur stepped inside. His hair a mess and his eyes weary, he looked a great deal older than even the day prior. Merlin stared, unsure of how to react.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Arthur asked casually.

Casually. After two weeks of not saying a word, he chose to comment on the weather. Another of Arthur’s wordless apologies. It would have sent Merlin into a rage if he weren’t so relieved to hear his voice again.

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been outside.” Merlin said indifferently.

Arthur nodded. He knew he rather deserved that after two full weeks of nothing. A moment or two of tense silence passed, and he sighed.

“I’m s-“

“I know.” Merlin interrupted. “It’s alright.”

Merlin didn’t really know if it was alright until he had said so. With Arthur’s storm of recent apologies it was easy to feel as though he didn’t mean any of them, but seeing the careful hope in Arthur’s eyes had rendered Merlin especially vulnerable to the truth. He could never stay mad at Arthur, despite his best efforts. Merlin cared about him too much for that.

He’s hurting, Merlin thought. And he’s confused. It didn’t excuse the coldness, but it explained it. Forgiveness or rejection, however, was at Merlin’s own discretion. Seeing the relief that melted away Arthur’s concern had convinced Merlin entirely that he had made the right choice.

Arthur tightened his mouth into a line and closed his eyes before letting out a breath he’d been holding.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Please. Just don’t do it again.” Merlin said gently, and chanced a small grin. “I’ve been bored out of my mind.”

Arthur actually laughed for the first time in a long time, but his smile faded as soon as it had appeared. He looked back at Merlin, a grim look darkening his eyes.

“I take it you’re not here just to apologize,” Merlin sighed.

“Aldith has put together an all female voyage to track down the remaining sirens. I’m going with them as a representative for Camelot.” Arthur admitted.

“That’s not all though, is it?” Merlin said, taking the tenseness of Arthur’s jaw to mean trouble.

“My father and I had a bit of a disagreement about it, but there’s good news.”

“What is it?”

“You’re not coming.”

“Very funny. When do we leave?”

“Merlin,” Arthur said in a pleading voice. “You’re not coming.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I put you in danger for no reason the first time, and I have no intention of making the same mistake again,” Arthur insisted. “You’re staying here.”

“Like Hell I am,” Merlin spat. “You nearly died last time.”

Arthur lowered his gaze.

”Why were you arguing with Uther?” Merlin asked, crossing his arms. “And don’t even think about lying to me.”

“He wanted to send you in my place,” Arthur admitted. “He didn’t say why.”

Merlin had a feeling he knew why, but he assumed it wasn’t a good time to bring that up.

“I’m going.”

“Merlin, please.”

“I’m immune to the song, it’s-“

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” Arthur insisted.

“The issue last time was that you didn’t give me a choice,” Merlin pointed out. “You’re doing the same thing right now.”

Arthur froze. He clearly hadn’t thought of it that way.

“The choice is mine to make, Arthur,” Merlin said gently. “And I’m choosing to come with you.”

“Only if you’re sure,” he replied quietly.

“I’m sure.”

Arthur chanced a small smile and let out a relieved laugh.

“In all honesty,” He admitted. “I wasn’t looking forward to being stuck on a ship with nobody to talk to.”

“All those pretty women wouldn’t have been company enough?” Merlin teased.

“Apparently not for me,” Arthur replied, smiling weakly.

Merlin allowed himself to grin at this; Arthur hadn’t acted this comfortably about what the two men had said since they’d left Aldith’s land for Camelot. He had gone from completely shutting down and refusing to speak about it to making half jokes about the situation freely. Though there were obvious sensitivities lurking just beneath his words, the notion that Arthur might be able to accept what Francis and Allard had said was a massive step forward.

Merlin realized all at once that he was feeling something that he hadn’t felt in a long time:

Hope.

Chapter Text

Tentatively, Arthur seemed okay. Slightly quieter than usual but still quick with the same playful insults and friendly jabs that Merlin had grown accustomed to over the years. When Merlin made a joke, he would laugh, and when the topic of the upcoming voyage came up, he would answer as if it didn’t bother him in the slightest. Logically, Merlin knew Arthur wasn’t entirely at ease about the journey. With both Merlin’s insistence on coming and the prospect of seeing multiple of the same beast that had sent him into his recent mood in the first place, it was only natural that he would still be a little tense about the idea. All things considered, however, Arthur was holding himself together. All Merlin could do was hope that it would last.

When the day of the voyage arrived, it seemed to be a repeat of the first time, characterized by much joking around and insistence that everything was okay but with an underlying sense of dread hanging over their every word. Arthur was hiding his nervousness well, but Merlin could still see it seeping through the cracks in his facade at certain points when his guard was lowered.

When Merlin and Arthur arrived, the crew were lined up in military straight rows on the deck and the captain was standing off to one side to greet them. Morgana’s words proved to be true; the voyage was entirely female, including the captain.

“Prince Arthur. It is an honor,” the captain said, bowing low. She was a tall and muscular woman, with intelligent eyes, a melodic voice, and an air of natural authority that rivaled even Arthur’s. Her shoulders fell squarely and her head was held high at all times, and she bowed to Merlin just as respectfully as she had to Arthur. Merlin decided he quite liked her.

Arthur seemed genuinely unsure as to how to conduct himself around her, as he clearly felt inclined to respect and even obey her despite the fact that she technically answered to him.

The captain also, Merlin noted, had not elected to wear the ridiculous starchy uniform that the first captain had favored, and instead was dressed in more sensible clothing better suited for the rather labor intensive job they were meant to be doing. Her dark hair was tied into a neat bun and tucked under her hat, and a gleaming sword swung from her hip. She also was wearing trousers, something that was not unheard of but was fairly uncommon for women in Camelot. Merlin decided he liked her even more.

“I expect you’ve been briefed on the details of this voyage, so I won’t waste your time,” She said lightly, giving the two men a polite smile. “My name is Lillian and I am the captain of this vessel. You can consider me to be at your service.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Arthur said with twice the respect he had ever shown anyone else. Merlin was trying desperately to hold back his laughter; watching Arthur falter under this woman’s gaze was proving to be exceptionally funny to him. Lillian seemed to notice this, and the corners of her mouth quirked upwards in response. She held back a full smile for the time being, likely to hang on to some semblance of professionalism.

“You’re only the second person of royal blood to ever ride this boat,” Lillian remarked. “Besides Queen Aldith herself.”

“It’s an honor,” Merlin said, grinning. He was already infinitely more excited for this journey than the first one.

“You have your tonics, right?” She asked, addressing Merlin.

“Yes, Captain,” Merlin said, opening his bag and showing her the dozens of vials. Gaius had spared no expense for this trip; he was assuming, like everyone, that it would be the last time the vials were needed for several years.

“I’m glad to see that you brought a healthy amount,” Lillian remarked. “I’ve just taken on a new hire and I’m sure he’ll need one as well.”

“We weren’t warned of any other men aboard,” Arthur said, looking a tad frazzled but hiding it well. “However, our physician sent us with far more vials than the two of us will need, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She remarked, and turned to Merlin with a small smile. “The new boy seems to know you. He was quite excited to hear that you would be accompanying the prince on this journey.”

Merlin grinned, already having guessed who the new hire was.

“May I ask what his name is?”

“Samuel,” Lillian answered, confirming Merlin’s thoughts. He broke into a wide grin.

Arthur smiled at the mention of Sam’s name, though it seemed rather more strained than usual.

“Samuel is preparing the prince’s chambers as we speak, and he’ll be out in a few moments to say hello,” Lillian said, pointing towards the staircase to the lower deck. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, clearly happy that he wasn’t being offered the captain’s quarters again.

“Now, for logistics,” The captain continued. “You two and Sam will need to be tied up, obviously. The sirens seem to be venturing further and further from the Isle every day, so I can’t say for certain when that will happen. Therefore, you’ll need to be ready at any time.”

Arthur nodded.

“Of course.”

Merlin shot him a look, and the slight upward curl of Arthur’s mouth told Merlin that he was thinking the same thing. They were both immune to the general song, which put them in a slightly awkward position. It wasn’t likely that they could silence an entire ship on the matter as easily as a few individual sailors.

“And another thing,” Lillian added after a moment. “Your doors will be locked from the outside every night in the event that we come within range of the song while you are asleep. A key to Arthur’s room will be stored in your room, Merlin, so that you may wake him up once yours has been unlocked.”

In response to Merlin’s befuddled look, Lillian sighed and pursed her lips slightly.

“We were informed by King Uther that strangers will not be permitted access to the prince’s room.” She explained.

When Merlin gave her a skeptical look, she sighed again.

“This crew is the best that Queen Aldith has to offer, but Uther was unconvinced of their reliability.”

Lillian’s voice was filled close to bursting with equal parts false politeness and quiet rage. There was no need to ask what the reason behind her distaste for Uther was; it was clear that Uther had expressed a certain level of doubt about the crew because they were all women. It must have been that, for it was the only reason Uther would entrust the key to a serving boy that he so clearly despised.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Arthur said, his voice gentle but firm. “For what it’s worth, I do not share my father’s reservations. There is no doubt in my mind about the future success of this voyage, and I will see to it that every member of this crew are individually recognized and rewarded when we arrive home.”

Lillian smiled, looking as if she didn’t quite believe him.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Merlin glanced sideways at Arthur, smiling fondly. He knew when Arthur was lying, and he wasn’t. The side of Arthur that recognized his father’s mistakes and actively worked to fix them was quickly proving to be Merlin’s favorite.

Arthur caught on to his staring and glared, obviously fighting a grin.

Lillian seemed to note this little interaction with an air of careful curiosity, and allowed a genuinely amused expression to bloom on her face. One of her eyebrows was cocked slightly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

Suddenly, the door to the lower deck flew open and someone laughed out loud, a loud and cheerful tone to their voice. The crew looked back towards the door, several of them breaking out into pleased grins. A figure began sprinting towards Merlin at full speed, waving enthusiastically.

“Merlin!”

Sam, for of course it was Sam, slammed into Merlin and pulled him into a bear hug.

“I thought I’d never see you again!”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Merlin laughed. He pried Sam’s arms off of him with some difficulty and held him at arm’s length, beaming. “How have you been?”

“Oh, wonderful! Lillian treats me with so much respect that I fear I might someday come to believe I deserve it.” He joked.

“That’s fantastic!” Merlin said, shooting the captain an appreciative look. In response, Lillian grinned and ruffled Sam’s hair.

“Samuel is the sweetest boy I’ve ever met,” She explained. “He keeps the morale up around here.”

The other sailors murmured their agreement, shooting Samuel fond looks as if he were their collective little brother.

“And how have you been holding up, my lord?” Samuel addressed Arthur, who was smiling with a pointed lack of sincerity that immediately caught Merlin’s attention.

“Very well, thanks.” Arthur managed to say. He clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you again.”

“And I you, my lord. It is an honor to serve you, and a privilege to get to do it twice.”

At this, Arthur’s smile melted into a smug grin and he nudged Merlin’s arm.

“Hear that? It’s an honor AND a privilege to serve me.”

“Of course, my lord,” Merlin said innocently. “And I look forward to having the honor AND privilege of feeding you to a siren.”

At this, the captain’s eyebrows shot up and she glanced at Arthur with a hint of dread in her eyes. To her utter amazement, Arthur laughed and shook his head with a warm smile.

“My lord,” Lillian said confusedly, her professional composure fading ever so slightly. “That was treasonous.”

Arthur coughed and looked as if he had just remembered she was there.

“If I may, Captain,” Sam interjected. “Merlin is a special case.”

“Really?” She mused. “May I ask what makes his case so special that he is allowed to threaten royalty?”

Her tone was disapproving but her face was etched with amusement.

“Merlin saved his life on the last voyage,” Sam explained excitedly. “Surely he gets a free pass for a few harmless jokes?”

Arthur gave Samuel a moderately shocked look before regaining his composure and treating Lillian to his trademark “I am very aware that this makes no sense, but please just let it go because I am the prince,” smile.

“Yes! That’s it exactly. I owe Merlin my life; it’s only natural he can get away with threatening it.” He said, laughing uncomfortably and for perhaps a few seconds too long.

Lillian gave the him a deeply suspicious look before softening and breaking into a light chuckle.

“Alright, then,” she said. “Your personal affairs are no business of mine.”

She had a knowing glint in her eye as she bowed and took her leave. The rows of women behind her took that as a cue to dissipate, and began to set about completing their last minute tasks before departure, chattering excitedly amongst themselves.

“What the hell did she mean by that?” Arthur wondered aloud.

Samuel snickered quietly, prompting a murderous look from Arthur that went unnoticed on Sam’s end. Merlin figured that was rather a good thing.

“Samuel,” Arthur said, treating him to his least threatening smile. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like a word.”

“Of course, my lord. What did you need?”

“I’d like to speak in my room, please.” Arthur said in a low voice.

Sam nodded and began to make his way towards the lower deck, glancing over his shoulder occasionally to ensure that the two were following him.

“He’s so much happier than the last time I saw him,” Merlin said, beaming.

“I don’t blame him when he’s answering to a captain like that,” Arthur remarked. “She’s incredible.”

Merlin nodded, finding absolutely no reason to disagree. Lillian had already proven herself to be more than worthy of their respect within the first few minutes of meeting her.

They reached the room that was designated as Arthur’s by a small handwritten note that was taped to the door (“Lovely gesture,” Merlin remarked,) and closed the door behind them.

Arthur’s room, much to his relief, was no different than the other crew members’. It had a simple bed against the far wall, a chest that was bolted to the floor, and the best part: a small window in the center of the wall that filled the room with soft blue light.

The two stared for a moment, both incredibly aware of how they’d felt at the lack of window on the first voyage; the relief that now washed over them at the sight of the sky through that little round pane of glass was indescribable.

Arthur was smiling, Merlin noticed, and it looked as if he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. The corners of his eyes were crinkled with glee and nearly all of the tension he usually carried had left his face. He seemed truly happy for a moment, and Merlin was painfully aware of how long it had been since Arthur had looked like this. The blue light turned his eyes into small fires, and he let out a small sigh of contentment. Merlin couldn’t help but stare.

“Is the room to your liking, my lord?” Samuel asked, snapping Merlin out of his thoughts.

“Yes, it’s lovely,” Arthur replied distractedly. He turned to Sam. “Could you do something for me, though?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“It’s that. The ‘my lord’ business is unnecessary. It’s Arthur.” He insisted. “You’ve more than proven yourself to be a trusted friend.”

“Yes, my- uh, Arthur.” Sam said, smiling wider than Merlin had ever seen before.

“Thank you,” Arthur replied, giving him a quick nod and an impartial smile.

Merlin was grinning openly at Arthur, who had yet to notice. Sam locked eyes with Merlin and shot him a questioning glance as if to ask if Arthur had been serious, to which Merlin responded with an enthusiastic nod.

Arthur fixed Samuel with an icy glare.

“Now then, if you’re to be a part of this you are sworn to secrecy. If I hear that you’ve uttered a single word of what was said in here I swear that-“

“Arthur, stop,” Merlin interrupted. “We can trust him.”

Samuel was looking rather frightened at the moment, and, noticing this, Arthur backed down.

“My apologies,” He said to Sam, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “This information is incredibly sensitive and it is imperative that it remain a secret. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lo- Arthur.” Sam replied obediently.

“Right. I expect we’re thinking the same thing,” Arthur said after a moment, turning to Merlin.

“So do I.” Merlin agreed.

“I’m not sure I follow,” Sam admitted sheepishly.

“How the hell are we going to disguise the fact that we’re immune to the song?” Arthur blurted. He immediately looked slightly annoyed at himself for losing his head in front of Sam.

Merlin thought for a moment and snapped his fingers when an idea hit him.

“We could pretend.”

Arthur frowned.

“Pretend?”

“Pick a woman’s name and scream it, I s’pose,” Merlin suggested. “I imagine it looks the same from the outside.”

“Merlin, there’s only three of us counting Samuel,” Arthur pointed out. “And most of these women will have seen the effects beforehand. If we don’t look convincing there’s going to be serious consequences for us both.”

Merlin squinted and gave him a confused smile.

“For us both?”

“Yes,” Arthur said as if it were obvious. “If I’m found out my father may disinherit me or something equally as rash, and if you’re found out I’ll throw you to the sirens myself.”

“Fair enough. Let’s just pick a woman’s name and go from there, then.”

Arthur frowned, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

“How about Guinevere?” He suggested.

“That’s a start, but won’t that cause a bit of a stir if word gets back to Camelot?” Merlin pointed out. “You’re the prince; you have to pick a name that won’t cause any political problems.”

Arthur groaned.

“You’re right. It has to be someone I don’t know.”

“What did the other men say last time?” Merlin wondered aloud. “I’m fairly sure I heard a Helena in there somewhere. That’s a nice name.”

“This is ridiculous,” Arthur spat. “They’ll never believe us.”

“You could always be honest,” Merlin suggested.

Arthur considered that for a moment.

“Helena’s a lovely name.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“May I ask a question?” Samuel cut in, an incredibly amused expression on his face. “Won’t you have political consequences for nearly any name you pick? A prince in love, particularly in secret, will hardly be a boring subject to Camelot’s citizens.”

“You’re right,” Arthur said, frowning at the floor.

“What are we meant to do, then?” Merlin asked.

“Well, it’s simple, isn’t it?” Samuel laughed.

Merlin and Arthur exchanged a confused look.

Merlin blinked.

“What?”

“If it’s so simple, what do you suggest?” Arthur asked defensively.

“You don’t need any name at all,” Sam shrugged. “Just don’t say anything.”

“I- uh,” Arthur stammered, clearly embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of that.

“These women have seen me under the spell, so they know that not everyone has a name to say,” Sam assured them. “As long as you drool and thrash around you’ll be set.”

”Thank you,” Arthur said, giving him a smile that had all the sincerity his earlier interactions with Sam had lacked. “Your helpfulness won’t be forgotten.”

“Nor will your kindness, Arthur.” Sam replied, bowing low. “I need to get back to work, but let me know if there’s anything more I can do for you.”

“We will. Thank you,” Merlin said, smiling.

Sam gave the two men a little wave before taking his leave. When he was out of earshot, Merlin rounded on Arthur with a teasing grin.

“What’s that look for?” Arthur demanded.

“Oh, nothing,” Merlin said airily. “It’s just such a beautiful thing when an ego gets destroyed.”

“You didn’t think of the solution either,” Arthur pointed out defensively.

“Yes, but neither did you, and that seems to be the bit that’s upsetting you.”

“I’m not upset,” Arthur insisted. “Part of being a good leader is being able to admit when you’re wrong.”

“So you admit that you were wrong?” Merlin challenged.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Arthur said cheerfully.

Merlin grinned, not having expected anything different.

Chapter Text

That night, despite the window in his room, Merlin opted to go above deck and watch the sunset there. There was something special about seeing the 360° view of its beauty and feeling as if the sea and sky were infinitely one in the same; watching the waves cut sharp blue edges into the blurry display of oranges and yellows and pinks and counting the stars as they appeared.

Merlin heard the door to the lower deck creak open, followed by a few slow footsteps.

“Hi, Sam.” He greeted, not turning around. He didn’t need to.

“Hi.”

Merlin felt Samuel sink down next to him and tilt his head towards the sky as well.

“Are you planning to be out here all night? I’m meant to lock your door,” Samuel said, nudging his arm and grinning.

“Who locks your door, then?” Merlin asked, not looking away from the sunset.

“It locks behind me. Eleanor has the key to let me out in the morning.”

“Eleanor?”

“She’s Lillian’s second in command. You’re also keeping her up by being out here so late, you know,” He teased. “She won’t go to bed until I do.”

“I’m sure she’ll forgive me.”

“Oh, she definitely will. She’s eager to meet you.”

Merlin shot him a skeptical look.

“I’m serious!” Samuel insisted. “A lot of the crew want to meet you.”

“You mean they want to meet Arthur,” Merlin corrected.

Samuel laughed as if the notion was ridiculous.

“They’ve sailed with the queen before; a prince isn’t exactly special.”

This comment sent a stab of anger through Merlin for some reason, but he pushed it out of his mind. He didn’t much care to put any energy towards introspection at the moment. Merlin set his jaw but fought to keep his expression neutral. Sam seemed to notice this, his face falling at the sight.

“Sorry.” He said quietly, and poked Merlin’s shoulder playfully. “The others are all quite keen to meet the man who regularly threatens the crown prince of Camelot and gets away with it.”

Merlin allowed his expression to soften to a smile.

“Sometimes I forget that treason is illegal.”

Sam blinked.

“That may be the strangest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

Merlin shrugged, opting to remain silent.

“Is something the matter?” Samuel asked, giving him a troubled look. When he didn’t get an answer, he sighed heavily and turned to face Merlin fully.

“How is he?” He asked, clearly trying to be as delicate as possible. Merlin was grateful for that, he decided.

“Alright, as far as I can tell,” Merlin replied. He glanced over at Samuel and frowned, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Could I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Arthur. You knew what it all meant immediately,” Merlin said slowly, being vague on purpose and choosing his words especially carefully. “How could you have known?”

Samuel fixed him with a sad smile and dropped his gaze to the deck.

“You’ve been doing a fair amount of thinking in the time we’ve been apart.”

“Something like that.”

They fell silent for a moment.

“What I said last time seems a little less impossible now, doesn’t it?” Samuel said, giving Merlin’s shoulder another poke.

“Don’t get smug,” Merlin warned, grinning halfheartedly. “You might still be wrong.”

“But I’m not, am I?” Sam said, phrasing it as a question but meaning it as a statement. He gazed at Merlin steadily, a thin line between his brows and pity in his eyes.

“I don’t know.” Merlin admitted, and looked back at him with slightly narrowed eyes. “You never answered how you knew.”

Samuel laughed softly, a slightly amused expression blooming on his face.

“I figured it out days before that siren ever came aboard, Merlin. When he said your name, all it did was confirm what I already knew to be true.”

“What?” Merlin asked, startled. “That’s impossible.”

“If only you could see the way he looked at you sometimes,” Samuel sighed. “The word ‘impossible’ would never leave your mouth ever again.”

Merlin stared, unsure how to react. His mind was racing, filling with millions of different interpretations of everything he’d ever done and lenses through which to analyze every single thing Arthur had ever said to him. The implications he’d failed to consider from the moment Arthur had uttered his name to the conversation at Francis’s house were hitting him all at once, overloading every part of his brain.

It was a lot to process.

“How do you feel?” Sam asked gently, his voice just barely cutting through the haze.

“I don’t know.” Merlin admitted, squeezing his eyes shut against the racket in his brain.

“Are you scared?”

Merlin thought for a few seconds, willing his thoughts to quiet down as best as he could.

He shook his head.

“I don’t think so.”

“Really?” Sam asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Merlin was sure that his current reactions weren’t exactly the best evidence for his statement, so he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The sunset was fading now, rendering the sky an inky blue with streaks of pink as the sun sank below the horizon.

“I’m scared, but not for me,” Merlin finally admitted.

Samuel nodded, far more satisfied with that answer.

Merlin didn’t need to say who it was about for Sam to understand, a fact which Merlin was incredibly appreciative of. He wasn’t sure if he could say it in this context yet.

“For what it’s worth, Merlin,” Samuel said in a low voice. “He will be okay.”

Merlin sighed heavily and glued his eyes to the deck once more.

“I really hope so.”

“Do you know how I know?”

“How?”

“He’ll be okay because he has you to make sure of it.” Samuel said simply.

Merlin made a noise as if he’d been punched in the stomach. In a metaphorical way, Sam’s words had carried an equivalent blow.

“You really believe that?” He asked.

“I do.”

One look at Sam assured Merlin that he was telling the truth.

“The first night we met,” Merlin began. “I told you that Arthur isn’t like his father, and you said that you couldn’t believe me.”

He looked over at Samuel, fighting to keep his voice steady.

“Do you still think that?”

Samuel thought for a moment, and a hint of confusion flashed in his eyes.

“No,” he said eventually. “I’m not sure he could be like Uther if he tried.”

Merlin turned his gaze skyward again, remaining silent. The stars were beginning to appear.

“It must be hard having to keep such a big secret,” Samuel mused quietly. “I can’t imagine.”

Merlin’s chest suddenly felt very tight. He pressed his lips together and shook his head almost imperceptibly, a silent plea to cut off the conversation there.

Samuel, mercifully, noticed immediately and gave Merlin’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

“I should be heading to bed. You should think about turning in as well.”

“What about locking my door?”

“Best hope the siren doesn’t come tonight,” Samuel said cheerfully. “Goodnight, Merlin.”

“Goodnight.”

Merlin sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the stars and taking deep breaths.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. None of what Samuel had said mattered because Arthur didn’t even know him. Any semblance of possibility that Sam’s story held would vanish the moment Arthur found out about his magic.

It had been nice to pretend things could be okay for a few days, but reality couldn’t be altered as easily as the mind. There was still Uther to worry about even if Arthur miraculously accepted it with no questions. And, Merlin thought bitterly, it wasn’t fair to put Arthur in that position. If he truly felt the way Sam was implying, to force Arthur to choose between his father and Merlin would be cruel.

Merlin wasn’t aware of the tears in his eyes until one managed to squeeze its way out. He heard footsteps again and hurriedly set about wiping his face.

“It’s late.” A woman’s voice said, startling him.

Merlin looked over his shoulder and hurriedly plastered a smile onto his face when he saw who it was.

“Captain! I’m sorry, I was just-“

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” Lillian said simply, lowering herself to sit beside Merlin.

She fixed him with a calculating look for a few moments, taking note of his puffy eyes and wet cheeks with an air of pity.

“Why are you out here?” She asked, voice gentle but firm.

“I’m sorry, I just-“

“As a general rule, I tend to save apologies for when I’ve actually done something wrong,” Lillian cut in. “I suggest you try it.”

“Right, sor- uh, I only wanted to see the sunset,” Merlin admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed to say it out loud.

“Do sunsets often make you cry?” Lillian asked, giving him a sideways glance. She was sizing him up, he could tell; but the reason behind it was still a mystery.

“I wasn’t-“ Merlin began defensively.

“It’s alright, you know,” She assured him, shrugging. “No one will think less of you.”

“I’m not sure that’s quite true,” Merlin said, smiling sadly.

“It is on this ship.” Lillian remarked, and gave him a slightly softer look. “Do you want to talk or would you rather be left alone?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“You’re saying that you can’t, not that you don’t want to,” Lillian pointed out.

“I do want to,” Merlin admitted. “But I really can’t. I’m sorry.”

“There you go again, apologizing for nothing.” Lillian tutted. “Tricky habit to get rid of. Took me years.”

They fell silent for a few minutes while Merlin scanned the sky, unsure of what else to do. Lillian gave him a long, searching look before apparently deciding something and standing up.

She tapped his arm lightly and pointed up at the sky.

“Look up at that group of stars. Kind of an odd triangle. See them?”

Merlin squinted.

“Yeah, what about them?”

“I think I’m going to name them,” Lillian remarked, putting her hands on her hips. “Create a new constellation just for the Hell of it.”

“What are you thinking of naming it?” Merlin asked, a genuinely curious smile blooming on his face.

Lillian turned and gave him a knowing smile.

“Emrys.”

Merlin’s blood ran cold.

“I think I’ll be heading to bed,” Lillian announced, giving Merlin a friendly pat on the shoulder. “You should do the same.”

Chapter Text

Merlin, understandably, didn’t sleep much that night.

Lillian knew.

He’d tried to convince himself it was a coincidence. That perhaps she really had no idea of the significance of that name.

Merlin was aware that he was grasping at straws, though.

Lillian knew.

She hadn’t sounded malicious, and she had genuinely helped to cheer him up, but there had to be a reason that she chose that moment to reveal herself. Perhaps it was a threat. Perhaps she had intended it as a show of solidarity. Perhaps she merely wanted to watch him squirm before exposing him to Arthur and reaping the rewards.

He shuddered.

The next morning, Merlin awoke to a gentle tapping noise that did not immediately startle him. A nice change from the aggressive banging on the door, he thought groggily. Initially, he ignored the sound and tried to go back to bed. The sound continued, but just as his eyes were about to close Merlin realized inconveniently that the tapping was actually somebody knocking on his door.

“I’m awake,” Merlin called, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. The door eased open slowly, and a woman’s face appeared.

“Good morning!” She said brightly, giving him a small wave.

“Hi?” Merlin responded, slightly confused as to why she had come inside. He had assumed her job was only to unlock the door.

“Oh, sorry!” She said, horror striking her face. “I shouldn’t have barged in here like that, I didn’t-“

“No, it’s alright,” Merlin assured her, sitting up in bed. He offered her a smile which she returned sheepishly.

“I just wanted to introduce myself!” The woman explained excitedly. “My name is Eleanor; I’ve been assigned to lock and unlock your door.”

Eleanor was quite short, and wore an outfit similar to the captain’s but without the hat. Because of this, her mane of curly black hair fell about her shoulders undisturbed; she had a very friendly look about her which Merlin was inclined to trust, but he refused to lower his guard yet.

“Oh, right. Samuel told me about you,” Merlin said, stifling a yawn. Then, he froze.

“Hang on, isn’t Samuel in charge of my door?”

“Lillian thought it best that you have someone else attending to you,” Eleanor said, shrugging. “I heard you were out quite late.”

Merlin’s stomach tied itself in uncomfortable knots at the mention of Lillian’s name. First, she’d said Emrys, and now she was assigning someone else to Merlin’s room. What was she playing at?

“Are you sure you’re in the right place?” Merlin tried.

“You are Merlin, right?”

“Yes.”

“And this is room 2?”

“Yes, but-“

“I’m afraid I’m in the right place, then,” Eleanor said, smiling sweetly.

“Did Lillian say why she’s doing this?”

“Mainly to allow Sam to go to bed earlier.” Eleanor replied with a teasing smile.

Merlin blinked.

Eleanor laughed and shook her head.

“I promise that’s it. S’all I was told, anyways.”

This woman’s cheery demeanor had all but entirely convinced Merlin that he could trust her despite his reservations. Probably a foolish move, he thought, but she was so sweet that he couldn’t bring himself to believe she meant any harm.

“Alright,” Merlin said, nodding. “I believe you.”

“That’s a relief,” Eleanor breathed, allowing herself a nervous laugh. “Wasn’t exactly sure what to do if you didn’t.”

She gave him a little wave and turned to leave, but just as she crossed the threshold back into the hallway, she paused.

“I’m not sure if it’s my place,” Eleanor began uneasily, not looking at him. “But I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t tell you.”

She turned, a mildy sorrowful note to the smile she offered Merlin.

“I don’t believe your prince slept very well last night.”

“What makes you say that?” Merlin asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“The door is open.” She admitted in a low voice.

Merlin was on his feet before the words had left her mouth. Eleanor, taking this as her cue to leave, gave him an encouraging nod and disappeared down the hallway.

Merlin swiped the key off of the hook where it hung on the wall despite knowing he wouldn’t need it. He dressed himself quickly and shoved the key into his pocket as he stormed across the hallway, and barged into Arthur’s room.

The door swung fully open, revealing a wide awake Arthur pacing the room with tired eyes and tousled hair.

“Arthur-“

“For god’s sake, Merlin, have you ever heard of knocking?” Arthur laughed, directing his attention towards the window. “It’s hardly even light out.”

“Are you okay?” Merlin asked, trying to mask the fear in his voice but failing miserably.

Arthur looked up, a thin line forming between his eyebrows. He frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your door was open,” Merlin explained, searching Arthur’s expression for any hint towards what was going on.

“Lillian unlocked my door this morning,” Arthur said slowly, concern apparent on his face. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m okay,” Merlin assured him, feeling the opposite of okay.

Lillian. Again.

Merlin suddenly felt faint, which seemed to translate to his face judging by the panicked expression that was growing in Arthur’s eyes.

“What has gotten into you?” Arthur demanded, crossing the room towards Merlin and guiding him to sit down on the bed.

“What did she want?” Merlin managed to say, having trouble focusing his eyes anywhere but the floor.

“She told me that breakfast would be served earlier and that we’re 5 days out,” Arthur said slowly, eyes never leaving Merlin’s face. “Why?”

Merlin remained silent.

“Has she done something?” Arthur asked, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. “Because if she-“

“No, it’s alright.” Merlin lied, feeling slightly relieved that Arthur still appeared to be on his side. “I’m just seasick.”

“Seasick?” Arthur repeated doubtfully. “You were fine on the last voyage.”

Merlin shrugged and managed a weak smile. Arthur had obviously not been told, at the very least, which eased the churning of his stomach a great deal. He took a deep breath, feeling the buzzing in his brain get softer.

“We have to get to breakfast,” Merlin said after he’d collected himself. He began to stand.

Arthur laid a hand on his shoulder and frowned.

“What’s actually wrong?”

“Nothing!” Merlin insisted. “It’s just the water. I, uh, hate water.”

Arthur, in response, gave him a look that plainly stated that he would be rolling his eyes if he weren’t so concerned.

“You are aware that I know you’re lying, correct?”

“Painfully so, yes.”

“Out with it, then.”

“I can’t.” Merlin finally admitted.

At this, Arthur’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes registered a hint of an emotion that Merlin couldn’t place. The corners of his mouth quirked up and he laughed slightly.

“You can’t? That’s absurd.”

“I REALLY can’t.”

“What if I order you to tell me?”

“I never listen to your orders.”

“Ah, right. I’d almost forgotten.” Arthur laughed, defeated. “Alright then.”

Then, as an afterthought.

“Will you be able to tell me someday?”

If Merlin didn’t know better, he’d think Arthur looked hopeful.

“I think so,” Merlin replied, smiling as best he could. He hoped he was telling the truth.

“It better be worth the wait,” Arthur warned, pointing at him dangerously.

“We should be getting to breakfast,” Merlin announced, swatting his hand away and laughing.

Arthur did roll his eyes this time.

In the dining hall, Merlin was careful to sit on the side of Arthur that was opposite Lillian, not daring to look her in the eye just yet. She seemed completely at ease, cracking jokes and chatting with the other crew members and carrying zero signs that she was intending to ruin Merlin’s life. That wasn’t quite enough to convince him, though. He found it quite difficult to eat.

Merlin hadn’t spotted Sam yet, and figured that he was just late. He liked to sleep in on occasion. Eleanor herself had come in late this morning as well; punctuality didn’t seem to be a huge deal among this crew, a fact which Merlin decided he was grateful for. He was late far more than he cared to admit.

“Tell me, Lillian,” Arthur began, leaning his head on his knuckle. “How did you become a captain in the first place?”

To the untrained eye, Arthur looked like as if he was flirting. Merlin would have assumed the same if he didn’t know better. Much better.

In reality, he knew that Arthur was genuinely in awe of this woman, and he tried his best to prevent his sour mood from intruding on his fun.

Lillian gave a good-natured laugh and sighed.

“It’s rather a long story.”

“We have plenty of time,” Arthur pointed out.

“I suppose I can’t argue with you.”

“C’mon!” Eleanor cheered her on from where she sat at Lillian’s side.

“My father was a sailor,” Lillian began, shooting Eleanor a fond smile. “I would always go with him on the shorter journeys when I could, but never the longer ones. My mother worried too much. She made a few good decisions early on and ended up as a lady in waiting to Queen Aldith.”

Merlin listened closely, trying desperately to gauge her tone and cadence to see if anything pointed towards malice. He was never the best at reading people.

“My parents died when I was nineteen,” Lillian was saying, a sad look in her eyes. “My father was shipwrecked, my mother grew ill and passed soon after.”

“I’m so sorry,” Arthur breathed. Merlin was silent, feeling pity for her but still wary.

Lillian bowed her head.

“Aldith was devastated at my mother’s passing and offered me her old position to support myself,” She continued. “I accepted, of course, and I joined the navy when I was twenty-four. Were it not for the Queen’s intercession on my behalf, I wouldn’t have been able to join at all, let alone work my way up to where I am now.”

“That’s incredible,” Arthur said, giving her a genuinely excited smile. “You began as a servant and became a captain in the Royal Navy? That would be unheard of in Camelot.”

“I know,” Lillian said, a hint of derision in her voice. Her distaste for Uther was nearly tangible.

Merlin could sympathize with her on that front.

“My only hope is that my story be taken as a testament to how often we underestimate our servants,” She continued airily. “They are often the ones who hold the most unseen power, after all.”

Arthur scoffed.

“Hear that, Merlin?” Arthur turned to face him but found the seat empty. He blinked, confused.

Merlin was already halfway to the door.

“Merlin?” Arthur called uneasily.

“I don’t feel well,” Merlin responded, not looking back. He busted through the doors to the dining hall and broke into a run the moment they’d shut behind him, saying a silent prayer that nobody would follow him.

Merlin was angry. Angrier than he’d been in years.

Lillian was toying with him. She had to be. What other reason could there be for this type of behavior?

He reached the door leading to the upper deck and busted through it as if it weren’t there.

First, she’d assigned someone else to his room. Then, she’d unlocked Arthur’s door herself. She must have known how it looked. Lillian was no fool.

And now this.

What could he do? Merlin was stuck, and he hated it with more force and vehemence then he’d ever directed at anything before.

This was his LIFE at stake. How dare she hold his future in the palm of her hand as if it were a child’s plaything?

He was above deck by now, blinking in the early morning sunlight and still fuming. His eyes fell on the captain’s quarters.

Moving quickly and with rage blurring his vision, Merlin made his way to the side of the quarters, which jutted out slightly from the platform above and created a ledge, upon which were stacks of miscellaneous objects, stored haphazardly in several messy piles.

Merlin reached up and retrieved a wooden bucket from the top of one such pile.

He hurled it at the wall with all his strength.

The crack that sounded through the air was satisfying, but it wasn’t enough.

Merlin jerked his head to the side, sending the bucket rocketing at the wall faster than his vision could follow. His eyes flashed gold.

The bucket shattered into a dozen oddly shaped pieces when it made contact.

Better.

Merlin was about to do it again when he heard a loud thud somewhere to his left that was not of his doing. He turned wildly towards the source of the noise, still too angry to think straight.

His blood ran cold.

The thud had come from a sack of supplies that had been dropped. The owner of the sack was staring at him, mouth agape and arms shaking.

Merlin’s anger faded immediately and was replaced with dread.

“Merlin,” Samuel whispered, his face horror-stricken. “What are you doing?”

Chapter Text

Samuel’s expression was unreadable. His usually warm brown eyes registered slightly colder than before and his fists were tightly clenched, glued to his side as if he was afraid to move them. He was breathing deeply, looking Merlin straight into the eye.

Merlin stared back, feeling almost relaxed despite the circumstances. His fear had reached a level where he could do nothing but wait for judgement, breathing shallow and eyes pleading for mercy.

“Does he know?” Samuel asked, meaning Arthur. Merlin thought he detected a hint of ice in his voice. His heart dropped.

So this was it. He’d be turned in by his own friend and executed once they arrived home. Perhaps they’d just let the sirens have him.

“No,” Merlin admitted quietly. “He doesn’t know.”

Samuel nodded grimly, eyes not leaving Merlin’s face. His stare was filled to the brim with conflict, swaying between pity and something resembling anger.

“You’re afraid I’m going to tell him, aren’t you?” He said, noting the panic that had permeated into Merlin’s expression.

“Please.” Merlin whispered desperately.

From below deck came the sound of hurried footsteps. Someone was coming.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows and set his jaw in a very Arthur-esque expression.

Merlin felt a stab of fear.

The silence was suffocating.

“I’m not going to say anything,” Samuel finally said, fixing Merlin with a sorrowful look. “But if you’re found out, I will pretend I never knew.”

“Thank you, I-“

“Don’t thank me. I don’t have a problem with it, honest,” Samuel assured him, his eyes softening slightly.

He sighed.

“My parents died for sorcery. I won’t do the same.”

The footsteps were fast approaching.

Samuel, looking up as if he’d just noticed them, hurriedly made his way to where Merlin was standing and shoved him towards the edge of the ship.

“Look like you’re sick,” Sam hissed, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning over the rim with him.

Merlin didn’t need to be told twice.

At that moment, the footsteps reached their maximum volume, and Arthur rounded the corner with Lillian in tow.

“Merlin?” Arthur called out, looking around wildly. When he saw Sam he tensed slightly.

“What’s going on?” Lillian asked.

Sam straightened up and plastered a smile on his face.

“My apologies for being late to breakfast, Captain,” He said with a laugh. “I was running some supplies to storage when I saw poor Merlin bent over the railing.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Lillian asked, crossing her arms.

“Seasickness, I expect.”

“He seems to be especially susceptible to it these past few days,” Arthur said doubtfully.

“Sometimes it catches you by surprise; it happens to me on occasion,” Lillian cut in. Merlin frowned, head still angled downwards towards the water. Why was Lillian defending him?

“We should get Merlin back to his room, then.” Samuel suggested, helping Merlin straighten back up.

Lillian strode over to where Merlin was bent over the railing and linked her arm around his shoulder. When Merlin hesitated to stand, she bent down so that only he could hear her.

“I’m not your enemy. Get up.”

Merlin obeyed, too shellshocked to protest.

“Let me help,” Samuel offered.

“I’ve got him.” Arthur cut in, hurriedly slipping an arm under Merlin’s shoulder and taking him from Lillian. She gave them an amused look at this, the hint of a smile blooming on her face.

“Try not to drop him!” Sam called after them with a grin. Lillian nudged his arm and they shared a laugh.

Arthur began to drag Merlin back below deck, being much more careful than Merlin usually knew him to be.

“I can walk just fine,” Merlin protested.

“You look like you’re about to fall over.” Arthur pointed out.

“Yeah? Well, you look like... an... ass?”

“An ass?” Arthur repeated, looking highly amused.

“Yes.”

“And you called ME mean! I fear this voyage has brought out the worst in you, Merlin.”

They had finally reached the lower deck. The moment they crossed the threshold into Merlin’s room, Arthur made sure to lower him gently to a sitting position on his bed.

“You act as if I’ve broken my leg,” Merlin laughed.

“What really happened?” Arthur asked, ignoring him.

“I got seasick.”

“You’re about as good of a liar as you are a servant,” Arthur said, setting his jaw. “Don’t think I didn’t see the broken bucket.”

“I was VIOLENTLY seasick.” Merlin amended.

“Are you under the impression that I’m an idiot? Or are you simply that dedicated to your pathetic lie?”

Merlin shrugged.

“I don’t see why it can’t be both.”

Arthur laughed, and the glare that settled onto his face afterwards was proof enough that he hadn’t intended to. Merlin grinned.

“You didn’t eat this morning.” Arthur said suddenly. “I’ll have Samuel fetch you something.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mistake this for kindness,” Arthur warned. “You’re no good to me if you’re too famished to stand.”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“Alright, then.”

Arthur gave him a fond smile and a pat on the back before disappearing down the hallway. Mere seconds after he’d cleared the doorframe, Lillian slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. It appeared as though she’d been waiting for Arthur to leave. Merlin tensed, his fists clenching instinctively.

“What do you want?” He growled.

“Look, I’m not going to waste your time. I need something from you and you need something from me.” She said simply, crossing the room to stand by the window. Merlin noticed she had removed her hat. Generally, that was a sign of respect, but for some reason it made Merlin twice as anxious.

“What could you possibly need from me?” Merlin demanded, his temper rising slightly.

“I need some of your vials.”

“I- what?”

“I need some of the vials your physician gave you.” Lillian said, voice calm but eyes urgent.

“Why?”

“I’m afraid that’s not for you to know.”

“What if I refuse?” Merlin said, already knowing the answer.

Lillian sighed heavily.

“I’ll tell Arthur everything I know.”

“And what DO you know?” Merlin asked fiercely, his anger bubbling over once again.

Lillian set her jaw, looking rather annoyed at his insistence.

“You are called Emrys by the Druids. You are the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth. Need I go on? I’m sure there’s enough there to get you executed twice over.” Lillian said harshly.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Merlin asked, voice barely a whisper. “I haven’t done anything to you.”

“It isn’t personal, Merlin. I’ll be happy to explain once I have the vials,” Lillian said in a low voice.

“I haven’t got a choice, have I?” Merlin snapped. He roughly snatched the satchel from under his bed and tossed it to her.

Lillian sighed, genuinely relieved.

“Thank you. Truly.”

She retrieved six or seven and pocketed them, handing the satchel back to Merlin with a definitive air of guilt about her. Merlin glared, seething with rage.

“How do you know what the Druids call me?” He demanded.

Lillian sighed.

“How do you think I know? How do you think I was able to recognize you in the first place, Emrys?”

“I don’t understand.”

Lillian took a few slow steps towards him and presented her forearm. Carefully, she rolled her sleeve up to her elbow, revealing a tattoo of three curved lines that converged into a triangle in the center.

Merlin gasped.

“You’re a Druid.”

He looked up at her confusedly, his shock immediately melting his anger away.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m here because this is where I need to be,” She explained. “I have known that I would meet you someday for many years.”

“What about the story you told Arthur, then? Was it true?”

“It was partly true,” Lillian replied with a slightly guilty smile. “I did start as a servant and work my way towards being a captain, and my parents really are no longer alive. They just happened to be Druids, not sailors or servants.”

“Does the Queen know who you are?” Merlin inquired, frowning.

“No. She’d have me executed on the spot. There’s a reason her and Uther are allies,” Lillian said bitterly. “I told her that my parents had been killed by bandits, and she took me in.”

“What actually happened?” Merlin asked quietly. “I’m sorry, that’s a lot, I didn’t mean to-.”

“Don’t say sorry if you haven’t done anything wrong. Remember?” Lillian said, waggling a finger disapprovingly.

“Right.”

Lillian took a deep breath.

“The Knights of Camelot staged an attack on the camp where I was born,” She began quietly. “I was the only survivor. My parents had sent me to Camelot for supplies that morning, and when I came back, they were all gone. I was twenty or so.”

Merlin let out a shaky breath, eyes widening in shock.

“That’s horrible.”

“My mother was a Seer,” Lillian explained. “She knew it was coming. Before I left, she told me everything she could about my future. I suppose I should’ve suspected that something was wrong; she never spoke about her visions with me.”

Merlin was fuming.

“How does Uther sleep at night?” He demanded. “He has more blood on his hands than-!”

“Merlin, Uther didn’t lead that raid,” Lillian interrupted softly. “Arthur did.”

Merlin’s blood seemed to freeze in his veins.

“That- how do you know?” He struggled to say, his throat feeling tighter than usual.

“I returned to Camelot after the raid and found them celebrating the young prince’s first successful military operation.” Lillian replied.

She gave Merlin a long, searching look.

“I don’t blame him, you know.“

“You don’t?”

“No. I blame his father. I can never forgive Arthur for what he did to my people, but I can understand why. He was young, he was a prince, and his father was the king. Few of us in his position would have done anything differently.” She said simply. “Any anger I still carry, I try to direct it at Uther.“

Merlin was struck dumb, completely in awe of Lillian’s words. To have lost everyone you loved so abruptly and still find it in your heart to understand the person responsible for it took more strength than Merlin could even imagine.

“I know what Arthur is destined to do,” Lillian continued when Merlin didn’t respond. “And I truly believe that it will come to pass. That’s why I’m here. Our destinies are intertwined; I was sent to help you.”

“Help me with what?” Merlin asked eagerly.

“Making sure the idiot doesn’t get himself killed,” She said, giving him a grin.

“He does make it hard sometimes,” Merlin admitted.

“I have to agree.” She laughed, and then her face fell into a more sober expression. She turned to face Merlin and looked him dead in the eye.

“Arthur will need you more in the next few days than ever before.”

“What’s going to happen?” Merlin breathed, eyes wide.

“I can’t tell you,” Lillian said apologetically. “But I will give you a word of warning.”

She leaned in, expression grim.

“When the sirens start to sing, don’t let him out of your sight.”

“Wh-“

“I can’t say anything else. Just don’t. Got it?”

“Why did you want the vials?” Merlin asked abruptly.

Lillian’s eyebrows shot up, caught off guard by the change in subject.

“I can’t tell you.”

“You said you’d explain.”

“I explained what I could.” Lillian glanced over her shoulder and gave Merlin a quick smile. “Arthur will be back soon, I expect. I’ll get out of your way.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said, deciding it wasn’t worth it to pry. “For all of it.”

Lillian nodded.

“Take care of him, alright?”

“You’re the third person to tell me that,” Merlin remarked, letting out a small laugh.

“That isn’t a coincidence, Merlin,” Lillian said, smiling warmly. “I’ll see you soon.”

Chapter Text

“It helps to let your tongue loll out of your mouth a bit.” Sam was saying, a moderately devious smile creeping across his face.” And for God’s sake, Arthur, let your face relax; you’re meant to be in ecstasy.”

“Thith ith ridiculouth,” Arthur scoffed with as much dignity as he could muster with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Merlin was choking down a fit of laughter, not eager to be on the receiving end of the murderous glare Arthur was currently giving Sam.

“I’m only trying to help,” Samuel insisted, the smirk on his face indicating he was enjoying this just as much as Merlin.

“Why doesn’t Merlin have to do this as well?” Arthur spluttered angrily, retracting his tongue.

“I’m still recovering from my seasickness, I’m afraid,” Merlin said with feigned innocence. “You’re doing great, though.”

“Your support truly keeps me going.” Arthur deadpanned.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Sam chuckled. “I’m going to see if Lillian needs anything. I trust you two won’t kill each other in my absence?”

Arthur and Merlin exchanged a look.

Sam sighed.

“I’m going to be optimistic and take that as a yes.”

“Before you go,” Merlin said suddenly, reaching under his bed and producing a vial. “Keep this with you. We’re only two days out, right?”

“Right. Thank you.” Samuel gave Merlin a friendly pat on the back, pocketed the vial, and smiled at Arthur before ducking out of the room.

Arthur let out a slight sigh, prompting an inquisitive look from Merlin. He shrugged in response.

“It’s nearly judgement day, isn’t it?” He said with a humorless laugh.

“You’re nervous.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Merlin replied.

“Sometimes I hate how well you know me.”

“No, you don’t.”

“See? I hate that.”

Arthur laughed again with slightly more mirth than before, but his eyes were still troubled. Merlin frowned.

“Anything else you’d like to say?”

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and turned his attention to the window. The sky was a brilliant blue with streaks of white spread evenly throughout as if they were arranged by hand. A hint of a smile dawned on his face and he glanced back over at Merlin.

“Do I look as though I’ve got something to say?”

“No, but you look as though there’s something you need to say.” Merlin countered.

“Perhaps.” Arthur admitted with a noncommittal shrug. “Frankly, though, it’s none of your business.”

Merlin gasped over dramatically.

“How dare you keep your highly personal information from me?”

“We’re all entitled to our secrets. Even you, though I doubt you’ve anything interesting to hide.” Arthur remarked.

Merlin laughed out loud but quickly stifled it after realizing how suspicious it must’ve looked.

He coughed.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow and let out a small laugh.

“Alright then. I’ll do you a favor and pretend I never saw that.”

“I think that would be for the best, yes.” Merlin agreed.

Arthur gave him a long, searching look. After far too long of a pause, he sighed.

“Now you’ve done it.”

“What?” Merlin asked defensively.

“Now I’m going to be bothered by your secret all day.”

“Likewise.”

“I suppose I can’t order you to tell me.”

“I’d ignore you.”

“I thought so.”

Arthur paused for a moment and fixed Merlin with a curious look.

“Can I at least ask if it’s illegal?”

“No.”

“No, it isn’t illegal? Or no, I can’t ask?”

Merlin thought for a moment.

“No.”

“You’re impossible.”

A light knock on the door spared Merlin from having to elaborate.

“It’s Eleanor, may I come in?” A sweet voice came muffled through the door.

“Enter.” Arthur said with an excess of authority in his voice, prompting a snicker from Merlin.

The door opened and revealed a very cheerful Eleanor. Her hair was braided into an elaborate updo with ribbon interwoven between the strands of hair. She looked more fit for a party than a dangerous voyage at sea.

“Good morning, my lord,” She said to Arthur, who nodded in return. “And good morning to you as well, Merlin.”

“Hi!” Merlin waved. “I love your hair.”

“Oh, this?” Eleanor waved a hand dismissively. “I had a bit of extra time. It gets a tad boring out here.”

“It looks fantastic!”

“Aren’t you a charming one today!” Eleanor giggled. “Thank you!”

Arthur gave her an odd look that did not go unnoticed on Merlin’s part.

“Anyways,” Eleanor continued. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but Lillian has asked everyone to meet above deck immediately.”

Arthur paled slightly.

“What for?”

“She didn’t say. She did, however, ask me to keep these on hand.” Eleanor dug around in her coat locket for a moment before finally producing a vial of the tonic.

“It’s a safe bet to say it’s got something to do with the Sirens.” She concluded, slipping the vial back into her pocket.

Merlin’s eyebrows shot up.

“Where did you get that?”

“The tonic?” Eleanor asked.

Merlin nodded, eyes wide.

“Lillian. She told me you’d given her a few after she explained my situation.”

“Right. Of course. I remember now,” Merlin said, laughing nervously. “Your situation.”

Arthur shot him another odd look, but much to Merlin’s relief, he decided against saying anything.

“Anyways, I really should thank you! You have saved my life, after all,” Eleanor laughed. “This is my first voyage and I was unaware that the Sirens had such a range of power over people like me.”

“Hang on, it’s your first voyage and you’re Lillian’s first mate?” Arthur said, eyes narrowing.

To both men’s surprise, Eleanor’s eyes widened and she smiled excitedly.

“Lillian called me her first mate?”

“Not directly, but Sam did.” Merlin explained.

Eleanor giggled.

“I’m nothing more than an extra hand around here, honest. I’m not quite sure why Lillian keeps me around.”

Merlin and Arthur exchanged a knowing glance.

“Anyways, I’m afraid I’ve talked your ears off. I’ll be seeing you upstairs in a bit, then?” She said, half turning towards the doorway.

“Of course.” Arthur said, smiling.

“Take care, you two!” Eleanor said, grinning and skipping out of the room.

“Isn’t she just lovely?” Merlin said the moment she was out of earshot. “That may be the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Developing a little crush, are you?” Arthur quipped. “I reckon you’ll have to fight Lillian for her.”

“You make that same sort of joke every time I so much as look at a woman,” Merlin laughed.

Arthur averted his gaze suddenly.

“I take it you don’t actually know about her ‘situation’ at all?”

The change in subject was not lost on Merlin, but he decided that it wasn’t worth pointing out.

“No.”

“I know that look.”

“What?”

“You have a guess, don’t you?”

“I might.”

“And what is it?”

Merlin sighed.

“I expect it’s the same situation that you’re in.” He said quietly. “The same situation, only...”

“Only opposite.” Arthur finished for him.

“Exactly.”

“God help her.”

Above deck, Lillian was waiting for them with the entire crew lined up in their trademark militaristic rows. Eleanor and Sam stood together in the front row, giggling about something quietly. Next to them was a blonde woman who looked as though she was two seconds away from throwing them both overboard.

“Morning, gentlemen,” Lillian said, giving them a tense smile.

Arthur inclined his head slightly in greeting. Merlin waved.

“Now, right to business,” She continued, addressing everyone now. “The boat has begun to steer off its course. This is exactly what we expected; it means that a Siren has latched onto us and is directing us towards the western side of the Isle.”

The crowd fell silent, fear permeating the air.

“Since there is a Siren nearby, everyone who is likely to be affected MUST carry a vial or two with them at all times. We can’t have any accidents,” Lillian said, looking at Arthur specifically. Merlin snickered.

“If anyone believes that they may be affected for any reason, see me privately. Your identity will be kept secret. You have my word.”

The crowd murmured with approval. Merlin was beginning to understand why Lillian had wanted the vials so badly, and he felt significantly better about having given them up.

“Finally, the Siren under the ship ensures that we will arrive earlier than scheduled. At this rate, we need to be prepared for conflict as early as tonight. Does everyone understand?”

The crew remained silent and Lillian nodded, taking that as confirmation.

“Back to business, then, all of you,” She said. “Eleanor, I’d like a word.”

Eleanor nodded and eagerly followed Lillian into the captain’s quarters.

Sam turned to the group of women who had been lined up beside him and started to joke around, as was his usual way of going about things. The blonde woman hurriedly took her leave, busying herself with whatever she could find nearby.

“You should go fetch some vials then,” Arthur said after a moment.

“We don’t need them,” Merlin whispered.

“Other people might,” Arthur replied.

At this, Merlin broke into a huge smile. Once again, Merlin was being treated to a rare moment of genuine selflessness from the prince, and he could hardly be expected to disguise his happiness at that fact.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Arthur snapped. “I don’t want anyone to become fish food.”

“Why, Arthur, I had no idea you cared,” Merlin drawled.

“You aren’t included in ‘anyone’; I’d be more than happy to see you eaten.”

“Ah, that’s better.”

Merlin thought for a moment.

“It’s odd to know that there’s one beneath us, isn’t it?” He said, squinting at the horizon.

“Odd? That’s an understatement.”

“Only if you’re a coward.”

“We really need to have a talk about how you address me,” Arthur chuckled.

“I’ll stop calling YOU a coward when you stop calling ME a coward.”

“That’s absurd. Somebody has to remind you.”

“Likewise.”

“Excuse me, my lord?” Someone asked, startling the both of them.

They turned to see the blonde woman who had been standing beside Samuel wearing a terse and slightly self-righteous expression.

“I expect you’ll remember me, but I thought I’d reintroduce myself just in case,” she said, flashing him a bright smile.

She was a striking woman to look at, with silver blonde hair and icy grey eyes that constantly seemed to be searching for flaws in whatever they beheld.

Arthur treated her to a look that Merlin had seen on his face at nearly every single banquet he’d ever attended; the look plainly stated to anyone who really knew Arthur that he hadn’t the faintest idea who he was talking to but was trying his best to be polite.

“Remind me where we’ve met before?” Arthur asked with a slightly confused smile.

The woman’s face fell.

“We met at your birthday banquet three years ago.”

Arthur gave Merlin a pleading look that he returned with a shrug. Whoever she was, she met him before Merlin lived in Camelot.

“Ah, yes, I remember!” Arthur lied, laughing nervously. “How could I forget?”

At this, the woman brightened up.

“I knew wouldn’t forget me!”

Arthur laughed again, and shot Merlin a truly panicked look. Merlin shrugged again, fighting a grin and trying not to enjoy this too much.

After an awkward silence, Arthur’s eyes lit up. Merlin groaned internally. This couldn’t be good.

“If you would be so kind,” Arthur began with his most charming smile. “I was always intrigued by the unique way in which you spell your name. Would you mind telling it to me again?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, and Arthur’s smile wavered slightly. Merlin snickered.

“M-A-R-Y.” She spat, voice dripping with venom.

Arthur swore under his breath and laughed good-naturedly as if he hadn’t just made a complete fool of himself.

“The inclusion of the Y is so unique; in Camelot it’s always spelled M-A-R-E-E,” Arthur said, smiling like his life depended on it.

“Right,” Mary said, cocking an eyebrow. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Was it that obvious?” He asked apologetically.

Merlin had to physically turn around to disguise his laughter.

“I’m the third child of Lord Henry,” Mary said, pursing her lips in annoyance.

“Right. Of course. I knew that.” Arthur said uneasily. “May I ask how a noblewoman came to work as a sailor?”

Merlin groaned internally. Arthur was trying to change the subject to deflect attention from himself, (a tactic he used often,) but was only succeeding in digging his grave even deeper.

“My father wanted me to learn to be independent,” Mary spat, looking as if she regretted ever starting this conversation. “He said he wanted his daughters to make their own money. Lillian is the only one who’d take me.”

“Forgive me.” Arthur said dumbly, clearly not knowing how to respond to what she’d said.

“I’ll consider it.” Mary said harshly.

Merlin snickered, throughly enjoying the woman’s unwillingness to put up with Arthur.

“I like her.” He remarked.

At this, Mary cocked an eyebrow and a cruel smile twisted her features.

“You seem to cut your servant an unusual amount of slack as far as decorum goes, my lord,” She began icily, turning back to Arthur. “I’m sure your father doesn’t approve.”

“With all due respect, you don’t know me or my father.” Arthur said with a forced smile.

“I’m sure I don’t.” She replied cruelly. “Just as I’m sure that your father doesn’t know you, either.”

Arthur paled.

He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out.

Mary gave him a fake smile.

“Do forgive me, my lord. I was only trying to help.”

She treated them both to a polite wave and bowed before disappearing into the crowd of sailors going about their daily tasks.

Once she was gone, Eleanor emerged from the captain’s quarters and trotted over, looking concerned.

“I see you’ve met Mary.” She said, crossing her arms and frowning.

“Apparently for the second time.” Arthur replied, eyes wide and voice weak. He looked as if he might pass out at any second.

“I won’t make any excuses for her.” Eleanor said apologetically. “We’ve been getting complaints about her for weeks.”

“Why not let her go, then?” Merlin spat. Rage was starting to seep into his voice.

How dare that woman say that to Arthur?

“Lillian won’t fire her. She never gives up on anyone.” Eleanor explained. “It’s one of the things I love most about her, but it can certainly get tiring in cases such as these.”

“I respect Lillian for that.” Merlin said with a humorless laugh.

He was seeing red.

Eleanor glanced over at the captain, who had let her hair down for the day, and smiled fondly.

“Yeah, me too.”

Merlin smiled against his will, a brief moment of peace cutting through the angry haze. Eleanor reminded him strongly of someone in that moment, but he couldn’t quite pin down who.

“Can I ask a favor of you?” Merlin said suddenly. Eleanor perked up as if she’d been woken from a trance.

“Anything. What do you need?”

“Get Sam and ask him to take Arthur to his room; I’m afraid he isn’t feeling very well.”

“Of course.”

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked weakly, eyes narrowing slightly..

“I’ll come down soon,” Merlin promised. “I need to see Lillian.”

Arthur frowned, confusion flashing in his eyes for a split second before Eleanor linked an arm around him and began to guide him away gently.

“Don’t be long,” Arthur called back to Merlin, a hint of what could have been desperation in his voice.

“Tell Lillian I said hello!” Eleanor added.

Merlin waved and turned on his heel towards the captain’s quarters.

He had a few questions.

Chapter Text

“Merlin! What brings you here?” Lillian asked cordially. She was seated comfortably behind her desk with an ornate dagger in her hands that she twirled aimlessly, inspecting every angle as if it would tell her something that the other side couldn’t. Her hat was carefully placed in the center of the bed, the sword she usually carried beside it.

When Merlin didn’t answer at first, Lillian looked up with a cautious curiosity in her gaze. She furrowed her eyebrows and let out a confused laugh.

“Is something the matter?”

Merlin was breathing heavily. He found himself still unable to think straight; the rage that had consumed him moments before revealing his magic to Samuel was back with a vengeance.

With a small jerk of his head, the door slammed shut behind him and locked.

Lillian sighed, looking more disappointed than intimidated.

“I take it you aren’t here just to say hello.”

“Mary.” Merlin spat.

“Ah, now your complete lack of manners makes sense.” Lillian joked.

Merlin didn’t laugh. He was in no mood for pleasantries at the moment. Lillian seemed to finally pick up on this and groaned as if his stoicism was more of a mild nuisance than something to indicate a real problem.

“Look, I understand that Mary can be a bit difficult but-“

“That’s an understatement.” Merlin interrupted. He suddenly became aware that he was clenching his fists and tried to relax. It didn’t work.

“Merlin, if you’d be so kind as to tell me what you want, we can end this little argument right here. How does that sound?” Lillian asked, a hint of what seemed to be boredom in her voice. The sound of it enraged Merlin even more.

“I want to know why she’s here.”

“She’s quick with a sword and I needed extra hands,” Lillian said simply.

There was a strange tilt to her voice that caught Merlin’s attention. He nearly laughed.

“You’re lying.”

Lillian almost looked impressed.

“Am I? Care to elaborate?”

“You’re not telling me everything.”

“Leaving some choice things out and lying are two very different things,” Lillian said with a disapproving wag of her finger. “You of all people should understand that.”

“Don’t.” Merlin spat.

“You act as if we aren’t in the exact same situation.” She pointed out. “Exactly the same likelihood of being executed if we’re found out, at any rate. I expected a little more camaraderie from you, to be perfectly honest.”

Merlin groaned. He was beginning to get fed up with the casual way Lillian was responding to what was obviously a distressing issue on Merlin’s part.

“I don’t trust Mary.” He finally admitted.

“No one does.” Lillian scoffed. “Least of all me.”

“Then why aren’t you keeping an eye on her?” Merlin demanded. “If you don’t trust her, surely you don’t want her roaming around freely.”

Lillian’s cheery demeanor faded abruptly.

“Nobody is to interfere with Mary.” She said in a low voice.

Merlin’s anger cooled slightly and was replaced with utter confusion.

“What? You just said-?”

“I know what I said.” Lillian hissed, twirling the dagger to a downwards position and stabbing it into the desk with a frown. “Mary will be left alone. That is an order.”

“But she-!”

“I know that Arthur has made you feel as though authority means nothing,” She growled. “But you are still on my ship and I am still your superior. When I give an order, you follow it.”

Merlin faltered slightly in the face of her sudden change in mood. His own anger lingered beneath the surface but didn’t dare rear its head in light of this development.

“Please, Lillian.” He begged, allowing his desperation to creep its way into his words. “Mary knows something that could ruin Arthur's life.”

At this, Lillian glanced up with interest.

“What does she know?”

“It isn’t my secret to tell,” Merlin admitted.

“That makes it sound rather suspicious.” Lillian pointed out. “I’m afraid I can’t do anything if I don’t know-”

“She threatened Arthur.”

That was technically true. Mary’s comment could be interpreted as a threat despite the fact that she didn’t necessarily indicate a desire to harm Arthur physically. The consequences would be akin to death in a lot of ways, so Merlin wasn’t about to let the formalities keep him up at night.

It was just as Lillian said, though. Leaving choice things out and lying were two different things.

“Did she indicate that she intended to hurt Arthur physically?” Lillian asked carefully.

Damn it.

“No, not exactly.”

“Then how exactly was Arthur threatened?”

“Mary threatened his reputation,” Merlin said quickly. Surely that would be enough.

Lillian sighed.

“Merlin, you’ve given me nothing to act on.”

He began to get desperate.

“Please, you know that I wouldn’t ask if-”

“If we’re done here, I’d like you to leave,” Lillian said curtly.

“I just want to know-!”

“Get out.” Lillian sighed, waving a hand dismissively.

“I’ll tell them.” Merlin blurted. He wasn’t sure if he really meant it until it had left his mouth.

“Excuse me?” Lillian asked dangerously, eyes narrowing.

“I’ll tell them who you are,” Merlin said with more confidence than the first time.

“Is that a threat?” She demanded.

Merlin didn’t answer.

Lillian let out a harsh laugh.

“Merlin, you forget that I have the same leverage as you.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything.” He muttered.

“And that doesn’t bother you anymore?” Lillian scoffed. “You’ll be killed if he finds out.”

“Arthur’s destiny is in danger. You know as well as I that I can’t allow that.”

Lillian gave him a strangely amused look and smiled. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Then we’re at a standstill.”

“We are?”

“You say Mary threatens Arthur’s reputation, but any disruption in her routine threatens the life of someone I hold very dear.”

“What?”

“You would do anything for Arthur,” Lillian said simply. “In much the same way, I would do anything for Eleanor.”

Merlin’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t expected that.

“Eleanor? Why would you tell me-?”

“We are on exactly equal footing. I would like it to remain that way.” Lillian muttered, raising her eyes to meet his.

Merlin was unable to speak, shock gluing his mouth shut.

“I know exactly what is going to happen on this voyage, Merlin,” Lillian said softly. “And I know that Mary has to be here for it to go according to plan.”

“According to plan?”

Merlin finally spoke, the anger returning all at once.

“What’s going to happen?”

“I’ve already said that I can’t tell you.” Lillian insisted. “I’ve told you all I can. Keep an eye on Arthur, and it will all go fine.”

“For Eleanor, maybe.” Merlin spat.

“That’s all I care about.”

“What if Mary were to threaten Eleanor?”

“She’d already be dead,” Lillian answered honestly.

“You’re a hypocrite.”

“Maybe.”

“What could you possibly have been told to fill you with such fear?” Merlin demanded. “Changing the future is nearly impossible; nothing I tried would even have a chance of altering this voyage’s outcome.”

“I know,” Lillian muttered.

“Then why the hell are you so paranoid that-?”

“I’m trying to keep the future my mother showed me from happening at all!” Lillian exclaimed, exasperated.

Merlin froze.

“What?”

“It’s too late anyway,” Lillian said with a humorless laugh. “Forgive me, Mother.”

“What are you talking about?” Merlin asked hesitantly, fear creeping into his mind.

“Merlin,” Lillian said quietly, her voice resonating with sorrow.

“Eleanor is destined to die for Arthur.”

Merlin’s head was spinning.

“That can’t be.”

“I’ve known since before I even met Eleanor,” Lillian admitted. “It never bothered me before, but once I knew her…”

Her voice faded, and it was a few moments before she spoke again.

“Mary plays a major role in the circumstances surrounding all of it. She cannot be disturbed.”

“And what of Arthur?” Merlin demanded, voice shaking slightly. “What happens if Eleanor isn’t there when she is fated to be?”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” Lillian said, raising her eyes to meet Merlin’s. “Even at the expense of your prince.”

“You’re selfish.” Merlin spat, his anger bubbling over all at once. “The futures of Albion and your own people are at stake and you would choose one woman over all of them?”

“And what, may I ask, would you do in my place?” Lillian demanded icily. “What would you do, oh mighty Emrys, if it were Arthur’s life against the world?”

Merlin opened his mouth to answer but found he could say nothing in his defense.

He was trembling with rage.

She was right, of course. He knew that much.

Part of him felt guilty.

How could he ask her to hand over the woman she loved to an unfair death when he would be unwilling to do the same? An unfair death, and in the place of the man behind the death of her entire village.

Merlin couldn’t blame her.

Part of him felt angry.

How dare she?

How DARE she?

“Who’s the hypocrite now?” Lillian asked, smiling weakly.

Merlin’s turmoil must have shown on his face.

Lillian sighed heavily.

“The best you can do now is to stick by Arthur’s side and pray that you can do enough to save him.”

“Wh-?” Merlin tried to speak but the question died in his throat.

“I’m sorry. Truly.”

Lillian made a move to rise from her seat but froze. She turned her attention to the window.

A piercing soprano note filled the air and sent shivers down Merlin’s spine.

Lillian shuddered.

They exchanged a fearful look.

Chapter Text

Merlin was running faster than he’d ever run before.

Arthur.

That was all he could think about.

His lungs were burning and his legs were screaming for him to stop but he kept going.

Any physical pain seemed to drift off into the background of the hurricane in his mind.

Arthur.

Merlin passed a group of women struggling to restrain a lady who was screaming and begging them to let her see her wife.

“Where is she? I can’t see her!” The woman wailed, trying to claw at her own eyes. The other women held her arms fast, exchanging grim looks.

“SOMEONE GET ME A VIAL!” One of them roared.

Everyone seemed too busy to help.

Merlin kept going.

A woman was desperately trying to climb over the railing and screaming as if she’d been stabbed. Another sailor held her down by the shoulders and slapped her across the face.

It didn’t seem to help.

The woman’s eyes rolled back in her head and she screamed.

“Please, God, she’s going to think I forgot about her!”

“She’s not here anymore!” The other tried to tell her.

She didn’t listen.

Merlin felt a stab of pain in his side.

He couldn’t tell if it was exhaustion or pity.

He kept going.

Mary was sitting with her back against the edge of the ship, a distant look in her eyes.

In shock, probably.

Lillian was kneeling next to a dazed Eleanor, broken glass littering the ground beneath their feet.

Merlin kept going.

He barged through the door to the lower deck and careened down the stairs, leaping over the last dozen and busting into Arthur’s room wildly.

The prince was kneeling with a hand placed in the center of Samuel’s chest, easily pinning the scrawny boy to the floor with very little effort. For all Samuel’s thrashing, Arthur’s hand didn’t move an inch.

“Ah, Merlin!” Arthur greeted. “Would you mind fetching me a vial? My hands are a little full at the moment.”

Given the circumstances, he sounded strangely cheerful.

For a moment, Merlin just stared. The exhaustion and pain were catching up to him, dulled slightly by the immense relief upon seeing that Arthur was okay.

Arthur stared back, a thin line forming between his eyebrows.

“What’s going on up there?” He asked, correctly guessing the source of Merlin’s distress.

“They’re- it’s nothing like the last time,” Merlin managed to croak out between shaky breaths. “I don’t know if it works differently on women or if the Sirens are just- I don’t know. It’s bad.”

“Merlin, what’s going on up there?” Arthur repeated gently. Samuel gave a particularly violent jerk but failed in moving Arthur’s hand.

“They sound like they’re in pain,” Merlin explained, trying to catch his breath. “I don’t think they’re seeing good things.”

Merlin pressed his lips together in an attempt to calm down.

Arthur nodded, knowing not to pry further.

“Let’s get them their vials then, shall we?” He coaxed gently.

Merlin nodded numbly and hurried across the hall to his room. He grabbed the entire bag of vials and slung it over his shoulder before returning.

“You seem happy.”

Merlin remarked, laughing weakly and tossing him a vial.

He couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed at how much the sight of the women under the spell had affected him, and how Arthur had noticed it immediately.

Arthur caught the vial neatly and uncorked it with one hand.

“I am happy.” Arthur remarked, dumping the silvery liquid down Sam’s throat in one smooth motion. “I can finally stop being anxious about the Sirens and start running them through.”

He thought for a moment.

“I imagine it’ll be quite cathartic.”

Merlin tensed.

“Maybe you should stay down here.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say that sounded like an order,” Arthur laughed. Sam gave one last violent twitch before coughing and shakily climbing to his feet.

Arthur gave Sam a hearty pat on the back, trying to coax him out of his dazed state a little quicker.

“Sirens already, huh?” Sam said with a half smile, blinking the spell’s effects out of his eyes.

“I don’t know how many of them there are,” Merlin admitted. “I came running the moment I heard the song.”

“Did anyone notice that you weren’t affected?” Arthur asked immediately.

“I reckon they’re all too busy keeping their friends from jumping ship,” Merlin replied wearily.

Arthur nodded, a grim look in his eyes. He knelt down and retrieved his sword from where it lay on the floor and returned it to his scabbard. Upon seeing Merlin’s highly concerned expression, he offered a reassuring grin.

“What are we still doing down here, then?”

“Just let me go up alone and hand out the vials,” Merlin pleaded. “Then we-“

“And let you have all the fun? I don’t think so,” Arthur laughed.

“Arthur, I really don’t think you should go up there,” Merlin began uneasily. “It’s dangerous.”

Sam frowned, looking from Merlin to Arthur confusedly. Merlin could practically see the wheels in his head turning.

“That’s precisely why I HAVE to go up there,” Arthur said, furrowing his eyebrows. “What‘s gotten into you?”

“What about Mary?” Merlin blurted. He was grasping at straws, he knew.

“We’ll have to deal with that when we get home,” Arthur said with a shrug. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-“

“Arthur, I really don’t-”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” Arthur chuckled. “You’re the only one who’s ever actually killed a Siren.”

“I’m not scared of the Sirens.” Merlin snapped.

Arthur‘s eyebrows shot up and his mouth opened slightly in surprise.

Merlin sighed.

“The truth is,” He began quietly. “I’m scared you’ll get your armor dirty beyond repair.”

Arthur laughed and clapped a hand on Merlin’s shoulder.

“What if I give you my word that nothing will happen to my armor?”

“Uh,” Samuel interrupted with a forced laugh. “I hate to spoil this touching moment and all, but the folks upstairs could really use those vials.”

Arthur nodded and jerked his hand back from where it lay on Merlin’s shoulder. He coughed.

Merlin sighed and retrieved one of the extra swords that leaned up against the wall.

“Let’s get going, then.”

When they emerged above deck, the scene was still chaos.

It looked as though roughly seven other women had been affected without counting Eleanor, who was still blinking confusedly and leaning on Lillian for support. The rest of the crew had divided themselves up into groups of 2 or 3 to hold the afflicted down.

The woman who Merlin had seen trying to climb over the railing now lay flat on her back, three women pinning her to the floor.

“Please, she’s right there, I just need to get to her,” She begged, sobbing openly.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE THE VIALS?” Somebody shouted.

“LILLIAN?” Came another cry.

Lillian was preoccupied. She was holding Eleanor’s hand and whispering to her softly, ignoring the screams of her crew.

Merlin felt a stab of anger. One look at the tension in Arthur’s jaw confirmed that he felt the same.

“We’re all stressed,” He said, noticing Merlin’s glare. “It isn’t right to judge her.”

“Isn’t it?” Merlin spat.

Arthur paused, looking almost saddened by Merlin’s remark.

“Now isn’t the time to let our feelings get out of check, Merlin,” He said quietly. “You’d do well to remember that.”

“I’ll distribute the vials,” Sam volunteered, giving Merlin a slightly hurt expression. He slid the satchel off of Merlin’s shoulder and onto his own.

Merlin desperately wanted to explain himself; the looks his friends were giving him cut like knives. He had let himself forget how much Lillian meant to Sam. She was, after all, the closest thing he’d had to a mother in an unfathomably long time. Arthur’s respect for her hardly needed to be brought up as well.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin addressed the both of them, offering an apologetic smile. “Would you believe it’s seasickness again?”

“No, but I certainly commend you for trying.” Arthur grinned.

Samuel gave him a half smile.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

Sam hurriedly made his rounds and distributed vials to every woman who needed one, promising each as they woke up that nobody would speak of this when they arrived home.

“I saw my wife-“

“It’s alright, she’s back home safe and sound.” He assured one woman. “She’ll be waiting for you when we return.”

When Samuel finally made his way back to the other two, he looked uneasy. He opened the satchel to show Merlin the contents and tightened his mouth into a thin line.

“There’s only four left.”

“We’ll make them count, then.” Merlin said grimly, pocketing the last few vials and throwing the bag to the side.

“Merlin!” Someone called.

The three men turned to see Eleanor jogging over to them and waving. The pale pink ribbons in her hair were coming unraveled.

“Are you alright?” She addressed Merlin once she got within earshot.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Merlin asked stupidly.

Arthur punched him in the arm.

Eleanor laughed confusedly but her smile remained bright as ever.

“Did you manage to get a vial in you before the song started or something?”

“Oh! Right! Uh, yes! Lillian gave me one right after it began.”

Merlin laughed nervously, praying he’d been convincing.

Arthur’s face wasn’t reassuring.

Eleanor‘s eyebrows shot up.

“That’s funny,” She replied, a knowing smile creeping onto her face. “Lillian said you ran off immediately after.”

Arthur buried his head in his hands and groaned.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Eleanor said hurriedly, offering him a sympathetic glance. “It’s your business.”

“Thank you.” Merlin mumbled.

Sam and Arthur were both trying in vain to stifle their laughter.

“How are you, my lord?” Eleanor asked, rounding on Arthur and smiling brightly.

“Alright, given the circumstances.” Arthur replied easily.

“Have your legs regained feeling yet?” Eleanor asked earnestly.

Arthur froze.

“What?”

Eleanor’s eyes were wide and innocent.

“Your legs, my lord. The song renders them fully numb for nearly hours after the fact.”

“Uh, yes! My legs are terribly numb. I can’t feel a thing.”

Arthur gave a painfully fake wobble to prove it.

Sam had to physically turn his back on the group to keep from laughing.

It was Merlin’s turn to bury his head in his hands and groan.

Eleanor grinned.

“I was lying, my lord.”

Arthur was struck dumb, somewhere between being furious and genuinely impressed.

“I won’t say a word.” Eleanor assured them.

“Thank you,” Arthur choked out.

Merlin snickered.

He looked at Eleanor and suddenly felt a stab of sorrow.

She would be dead soon.

It had to happen that way, didn’t it? If it came down to her or Arthur, he wouldn’t think twice.

Merlin looked at Eleanor’s deep brown eyes and the tattered ribbons in her hair. He looked at the hair bow she’d tucked into her belt and the E that was scratched into the hilt of her sword. He looked at the little ring made of a few wilted dandelions on her finger.

Merlin’s eyes traveled over her shoulder to where Lillian stood, hands tucked into her pockets and a soft smile on her face. She was watching Eleanor too.

Lillian saw the bow in her belt, and the E on her sword, the ribbons in her hair, the dandelion ring. She saw it just the same as Merlin did.

Only Lillian loved her.

Merlin shifted his gaze to Arthur.

He saw the blue of his eyes reflecting the clouds and the bit of hair on the back of his head that never quite laid flat. He saw the crinkles in the corner of his eyes when he laughed. He heard the sound of his voice. The sound of his laugh. Merlin saw the scuffs on the toes of his right boot from the way Arthur always dragged his feet on long walks.

He could never let Arthur go.

“Merlin?” Someone asked, snapping him out of his trance.

Sam waved a hand in front of his face jokingly.

“I was just saying that I was going to run downstairs and make sure no one is unaccounted for.” He explained.

“Right, that’s a good idea.” Merlin said, shaking his head slightly.

Guilt weighed heavily on his heart. Guilt over something that hadn’t even happened yet.

Sam gave the group a little wave and set off.

“He’s lovely, isn’t he?” Eleanor grinned.

Suddenly, Lillian came running over. She skidded to a halt in front of them and tried in vain to catch her breath.

“Eleanor, I need you to come with me.” She said in a panicked voice, shooting Merlin an icy glare that didn’t match her tone.

“What’s wrong?” Eleanor asked, concern apparent in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll explain in a bit. Get to my quarters. It’s important.” Lillian insisted.

She was a good actor, Merlin thought. Even he nearly believed her.

“Of course. Good luck to you both.” She said, giving him and Arthur a quick hug and running off.

Arthur looked as if he didn’t know how to react.

“Not much of a hugger, I take it?” Lillian laughed.

Arthur grinned.

“Something like that,” He replied. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I’m afraid that the matter is rather private.” Lillian explained.

“I understand. Give Eleanor my best, at least.”

“I certainly will.”

Lillian looked as if she might throw up. She shot Merlin an almost apologetic look which he returned with a slight narrowing of his eyes.

“Would you be able to help me with something?” Lillian asked suddenly, giving Arthur a bright smile. “Would you go check the kitchens? Samuel always forgets and some of the cooks are quite stubborn. I’m afraid they may have decided to stay put.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll go with you.” Merlin said quickly.

“Actually, I need your help up here.” Lillian insisted.

Merlin shot her a murderous glare.

Arthur, blissfully unaware, gave Merlin a friendly pat on the shoulder and made his way down to the lower deck.

“What’s your plan, then?” Merlin demanded. “Lock Eleanor in your quarters?”

Lillian didn’t answer.

“She’ll hate you for it.” Merlin pointed out.

“At least she’ll be alive.” Lillian shot back.

“You can’t do this.”

“You don’t even know what I’m doing,” Lillian spat, her voice rising in volume. “I know what happens. You don’t.”

She glanced around as if just realizing how loud she was and grabbed Merlin’s arm roughly, dragging him back around to the spot where Sam had discovered his magic.

Merlin wrenched his arm away and took a few measured steps backward.

Lillian’s dark eyes surveyed him warily as if she expected him to snap at any second.

“I don’t want this anymore than you do,” She insisted.

“It doesn’t have to happen at all,” Merlin spat.

“She considers you a friend. How can you even begin to suggest that her life is worth less than your prince’s?” Lillian demanded.

“Her life isn’t worth less,” Merlin growled. “But she isn’t the only heir to a throne and the sole hope of millions of people like us.”

“Stop acting as if you’re doing this out of duty.” Lillian hissed. “We both know that’s not true.”

Merlin didn’t answer.

“You and I are the SAME,” Lillian insisted. “Whether you like it or not.”

“You’re wrong.” Merlin muttered, venom dripping from his voice.

“You know exactly how it feels to picture a world without him. I can tell.”

Merlin glowered up at her, refusing to answer.

“You know what it feels like to see him laugh, and to see him happy, and to see him smiling,” Lillian went on, a desperate smile creeping onto her face. “Don’t lie to me. You know how it feels, even if you won’t admit it.”

”Why are you telling me this?” Merlin demanded, anger causing his voice to rise in volume against his will.

“I love her.” Lillian said quietly, faltering slightly in the face of his rage. “And she-“

Her voice caught as if she were about to cry.

“Merlin, she said my name.” Lillian laughed, tears springing to her eyes. “She went under the spell for just a moment, but I heard it.”

Merlin tensed.

“How can you ask me to give her up after that?” Lillian pleaded.

“I imagine it’s the same train of thought as when you ask me to do the same,” Merlin said viciously.

Lillian’s eyebrows shot up.

“Arthur, did he-?”

Merlin nodded.

“The first voyage.”

“I didn’t know, I-“

“It doesn’t matter. It won’t change your mind.” Merlin spat. “Nothing will.”

“We have that in common.” Lillian said quietly, her eyes turning sharp despite her momentary lapse in resolve.

“You should’ve known talking to me was pointless,” Merlin muttered.

Lillian sighed.

“I’m sorry. I wish things could have been different.”

“They will be.” Merlin said suddenly, his eyes hardening.

“If you lay a finger on her I swear to God I’ll kill Arthur where he stands.” Lillian warned.

“I’m not going to hurt her.” Merlin said quietly. “You should go to Eleanor. Keep her safe.”

Lillian gave him a suspicious stare.

Apparently deciding something, she sighed heavily.

“Find Mary. Keep Arthur near her.”

Merlin frowned.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to tell me anything.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, right?”

Lillian laughed without humor.

“What is Mary going to do?” Merlin asked hesitantly.

“She’s supposed to save Eleanor’s life.” Lillian admitted. “Perhaps she can do the same for Arthur.”

Upon seeing Merlin’s extremely wary expression, she sighed again.

“I won’t be letting Eleanor out of my sight. If there’s any chance we can end the day with both Arthur and Eleanor intact, I’m going to try.”

“Why would you suddenly decide to help me?” Merlin demanded.

“Believe me or don’t, I don’t care.” Lillian shrugged. “Eleanor will be safely locked away and won’t need any saving. You can find Mary or you can try and keep Arthur away from the Sirens. Either way, Eleanor is alive.”

Merlin searched her expression for any hint of dishonesty but couldn’t find any.

He decided to believe her.

“Thank you.”

She nodded grimly.

“Take care of him, Merlin.”

Chapter Text

When Merlin went to rejoin Arthur, he found the prince was already above deck and kneeling beside one of the cooks. She had apparently fallen under the spell, and was weeping quietly into her apron.

“It’s alright. She’s waiting for you back home.” Arthur was saying.

“I’m sorry, my lord, I just-“ The woman sniffed, tears overcoming her before she could finish her sentence.

“You don’t need to explain yourself.” Arthur reassured her. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Merlin recognized the tone he was using, and it brought a smile to his face despite everything going on. He rarely got to see Arthur purposefully softening himself in order to comfort others, and he considered it one of his favorite things about the prince.

Upon hearing Merlin’s footsteps Arthur glanced behind him and grinned.

“Took you long enough.“ He tutted.

“Sorry.” Merlin replied with a weak smile.

Concern flashed in Arthur’s eyes but he quickly melted back into the same teasing expression he’d worn moments before. He recognized when not to pry; Another thing Merlin particularly enjoyed about him.

“What did Lillian want? Did she finally take my suggestion that we use you as bait?” Arthur asked hopefully.

“Uh, nothing. Just wishing us luck.” Merlin lied.

“Well, you’ll certainly need it.” Arthur grinned with a certain hollowness that indicated he knew it wasn’t true.

Merlin wanted to explain everything, but he also wanted to not be executed.

Unfortunately, those were mutually exclusive.

The cook gave a small whimper, jolting Merlin back to reality

“How is she?” He asked in a low voice.

“As good as she can be.” Arthur whispered earnestly. “I’ve been trying to comfort them all as best I can but-“

Arthur’s voice trailed off.

He gave Merlin a sad smile and sighed.

“It’s difficult to tell them that everything will be okay when you don’t know if you’re lying or not.” Arthur admitted, voice barely a whisper.

He glanced up at Merlin.

“Does that make any sense?”

Merlin sighed.

“I know the feeling.”

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows and gave Merlin an odd look.

He let out a small chuckle.

“You amaze me sometimes, Merlin.” Arthur mused, a mildly confused smile blooming on his face.

Merlin’s stomach did a flip which he chose to ignore.

Arthur looked as if he had more to say but no reply ever came.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and coughed.

“Listen,” He said when he had regained the ability to speak. “We need to find Mary.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

“Has she done something else?”

Merlin opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a piercing scream. A woman came running from the other end of the ship, eyes wild and sword drawn.

“THEY’RE COMING ABOARD!” She yelled, pointing towards the bow of the ship.

The crew immediately sprang into action.

Samuel emerged from the lower deck just in time to collide with a woman who hadn’t seen him. The woman hurriedly explained what was happening to him and he ducked back inside. He returned a few moments later with a sword.

Arthur offered the cook a hand and helped her to her feet.

“Do you need to leave?” Merlin asked her gently.

The woman glanced out over the horizon and narrowed her eyes.

“Hell no.” She said fiercely, drawing her own weapon and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Arthur gave her a warm smile.

“You’re as brave as any knight of Camelot.”

The cook winced.

“Don’t insult me.”

Arthur’s jaw dropped.

Merlin shook the woman’s hand.

She gave Merlin a sheepish smile and intelligently decided to put a few meters of space between herself and the dumbfounded prince.

“Did you HEAR her?” Arthur scoffed. “Here I am trying to HELP and she goes and-“

“Not everyone is loyal to Camelot,” Merlin pointed out. “And your father doesn’t have the best reputation in Aldith’s land.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up.

“He doesn’t?”

“Magic was accepted before your father allied with Aldith,” Merlin pointed out.

“I’m well aware, especially given that I was AT the peace talks,” Arthur spat.

“The locals still seem quite upset.”

“It serves them right, then. Any friend of magic is an enemy to Camelot.” Arthur said matter-of-factly.

His comment sent a pang of sorrow through Merlin.

“Yeah,” Merlin agreed quietly. “It serves them right.”

Arthur seemed to sense Merlin’s change in attitude, but ever ignorant of its cause, he settled on cheering Merlin up the only way he knew how.

He punched Merlin’s arm with slightly more force than was probably necessary.

“What was that for?” Merlin demanded, rubbing his shoulder and wincing in pain.

“You seemed upset.” Arthur shrugged.

“I am NOW.”

Arthur grinned.

Merlin sighed.

He couldn’t stay mad at him.

Even if he deserved it.

Even if he REALLY deserved it.

Merlin thought for a moment.

Perhaps he could stay mad at him.

Just not too mad.

Several sickening crunches began to erupt from below the boat, forcing Merlin back to reality.

“This is uncomfortably familiar,” He quipped.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur groaned, drawing his sword.

With a thunderous chorus of slaps, nearly a dozen slimy hands appeared over the rim of the ship and dug their claws into the wood. All at once, the sirens began to haul themselves aboard, revealing the sickly grey bodies and hauntingly empty eyes that plagued so many unfortunate sailors’ nightmares.

The singing ceased when the sirens had climbed fully aboard and seemed to notice that no one was affected. They screeched in unison, sending everyone’s hands flying to cover their ears.

“What are you waiting for? Attack!” Someone screamed.

“Where’s the captain?” Someone else yelled.

Arthur leapt forward and dodged a swipe from the horrible thing’s tail and managed to land a blow immediately. The siren screeched and reared up to its full height, its jaw stretching downwards to reveal even more needlelike teeth.

Merlin recognized that sight.

He raced forward as fast as his legs would take him, uncorking a vial as he went.

“Get back,” He ordered, shoving the vial into Arthur’s hands. Arthur spluttered in protest but had no time to react before Merlin drew back his sword and brought it down onto the beast with all his might.

A thin cut appeared on the Siren’s torso, and the creature’s black blood began to leak out of it in copious amounts.

Arthur downed the bottle in one gulp just as the Siren began to sing again. He blinked as if he’d been blinded suddenly but didn’t fall under the spell.

Merlin let himself breathe.

“Go help the others! I’ve got this one,” Arthur called, facing off with the enraged Siren.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“MER-lin!”

Someone screamed, but Merlin couldn’t tell who.

He saw Samuel helping a woman below deck, a gash on her leg that seemed to be from the creature’s razor sharp tail.

Arthur had landed another blow on the Siren, causing it to slash at him with reckless abandon. It was slowing down, growing more desperate and less accurate in its attacks.

“Come on,” Merlin muttered under his breath. He checked that he wasn’t being watched and muttered a spell.

The Siren’s front legs gave out and it collapsed.

Arthur quickly delivered the killing blow, sending his blade cleanly through the beast’s middle.

He made a mildly disgusted face and wrenched his sword free. Arthur then looked around for Merlin and smiled proudly when their eyes met.

“I did it!” He mouthed.

Merlin flashed him an exasperated thumbs up.

Mary, Merlin reminded himself. He had to find Mary.

Arthur became preoccupied with another Siren that had climbed the walls of the ship while everyone else was distracted.

Suddenly, a woman was thrown backwards into a mast behind Merlin, making contact with a sickening crunch. She cried out in pain and fell to the floor, clutching her side and wailing. Merlin whipped around and rushed to her aid.

It was Mary.

“The damn things can hit hard,” She laughed. The laughter quickly turned into a violent cough that sent tears flying to her eyes. Blood trickled out of the side of her mouth.

Merlin tensed.

He couldn’t have Arthur’s potential future savior dying.

At least not yet, anyways.

“You need treatment.” Merlin insisted.

“What are you, a physician?” Mary scoffed.

“No, I’m a physician’s apprentice.“

“Good enough. Help me.” She demanded.

Mary gasped in pain and her hands flew to her side.

Merlin tilted his head. He could tell her injuries weren’t fatal. At least not immediately so.

“A question, first.” He began.

Mary glared daggers at him.

“What did you mean when you said Arthur’s father doesn’t know him?” Merlin asked.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“If you want to live, everything.” Merlin said dangerously.

He was being a tad dramatic, he knew, but if he wanted answers it was better to err on the side of melodrama.

“What do you think it meant?” Mary scoffed. “People are only immune to the song for two reasons and his father wouldn’t like either of them.”

“How did you know he was immune?” Merlin demanded.

“Same reason I know that you’re immune,” She laughed. “It’s obvious.”

“What?”

Behind them, Arthur landed another blow and sent the Siren backwards. It screeched and narrowly avoided taking Arthur’s head off with its tail.

Merlin winced.

Mary followed his gaze and laughed harshly.

“Tell me, does Arthur know about your magic?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Merlin insisted.

“I wasn’t actually going to tell Uther, you know.” Mary remarked. “You’ve no reason to fear me.”

“I can’t say I believe you.”

“Believe whatever the hell you want. I’m not going to tell Uther anything. In fact, I’m never going back to Camelot ever again.” Mary scoffed. “You’re all corrupt and blindly loyal to a king who would see you all hanged before he’d let you question him.”

Merlin found he wasn’t exactly inclined to disagree.

“You promised you’d treat me if I answered your question,” Mary hissed, “So get on with it.”

“Right. Say ‘ah.’” Merlin relented.

Mary groaned but reluctantly opened her mouth.

“You bit the inside of your cheek.” Merlin observed. “That’s good.”

“Why on earth is that good?”

“It means the bleeding probably isn’t coming from your lungs.” He explained, reveling in the slightly fearful look she gave him.

“Does it hurt when you breathe in?” He continued.

Mary took a raspy breath and winced.

“Yes.”

“How badly?”

“Pretty damn badly.” She snapped.

“Broken rib or two.” Merlin said matter of factly. “You’ll live.”

“Great.”

“How’s your head?”

“Pounding.”

“Vision?”

“Fine.”

“Nausea?”

“No.”

“Good news. You don’t have a concussion.”

“Great. What are you going to do about the rib situation?”

“I can’t do anything. I don’t know if you noticed, but they happen to be inside of you.” Merlin said, speaking slowly as if she was a child. “I’m afraid I can’t reach them.”

“There’s still Sirens up here and they need extra help,” Mary said, her tone slightly more genuine than usual. “I’m not going to tell anyone anything, alright? Just say some magic words or something, I don’t care.”

“I need you to promise me something first.” Merlin insisted.

“What do you want?” Mary demanded. “Make it quick; my chest hurts like hell.”

“I want you to stick around Arthur and I until all the Sirens are dead.”

“You want me to protect your precious prince?” She laughed cruelly. ”Don’t you think he can handle himself?”

“Do we have a deal or not?”

Mary rolled her eyes.

“Fine.”

She gestured to her ribs.

“Your turn.”

Merlin rubbed his hands together and laid a hand on her side as gently as he could. He glanced over his shoulder to ensure Arthur was still busy.

He was.

Sam, fortunately, had joined in and was helping considerably to turn the tables in Arthur’s favor.

Merlin turned back to Mary and tried to concentrate.

“Ic hæle þina þrowunga,” He muttered, closing his eyes.

When he opened them, Mary was breathing much easier.

He was rather proud of himself. That one didn’t usually work on the first try.

“Hang on, let me get your cheek.” Merlin offered.

Mary looked at him suspiciously.

“If you’d rather taste blood in everything you eat for the next week that’s fine by me,” Merlin shrugged.

“Just get it over with,” Mary growled.

“Hold still, please.” Merlin instructed her.

She obliged, a murderous look in her eyes.

Merlin cleared his throat.

“Þurhhæle licsar min,” He muttered.

Mary cried out in pain and clamped her jaw shut, her eyes widening and her hand flying to her cheek.

“What the hell was that?” She demanded.

“Healing spell.” Merlin answered innocently, fighting a grin.

“Why did it BURN?”

“Because it was supposed to,” Merlin shrugged. “All it does it heat up the skin so that the wound cauterizes.”

“Whatever.”

Mary eased herself to her feet and grabbed her sword from where it had fallen.

She ran off and joined Arthur in fighting the Siren, making her presence known by immediately slicing a bit of its tail off. Sam and Arthur exchanged a slightly irritated look.

“Not even a thank you,” Merlin tutted. “Typical.”

The siren hissed and lunged at Arthur but he dodged it narrowly and landed another blow through the beast’s middle.

It twitched violently but didn’t die.

It reared up one last time but collapsed under its own weight. Sam stepped forward and quickly finished the job.

“Almost felt bad for it,” He admitted.

Arthur looked down at the beast and then up at Merlin, grinning.

“How the hell did you do this the last time?” Arthur called.

Merlin shrugged and jogged over to rejoin them.

“How many are left?” Sam asked.

Arthur glanced around.

“Six or seven.”

Sam tightened his grip on the sword he carried and nodded.

“I reckon I can take it down to at least 4.”

Samuel hurried off and joined another group of two women who were being cornered by two sirens at once. He sliced at the back of one of the sirens, distracting it enough that the two women managed to slip around and get to a better position.

Mary crossed around to the front of the Siren and frowned.

“They sure are ugly, aren’t they?” She laughed.

To both Arthur and Merlin’s general disgust, she reached a hand into its mouth and wrenched a few of its teeth from the top row. She produced a cloth and wrapped them carefully before pocketing the entire bundle.

“What was that?” Merlin winced.

“They’re worth a fortune.” Mary shrugged. “Not everyone can say they have Siren venom.”

“Venom?” Arthur asked uneasily.

Mary looked at him as if he were stupid.

“Yes, venom. Venom that is extremely rare and will fetch me a pretty penny when I get home.” She explained. “I’ll be set for life.”

Mary ran the edge of her sword along her coat, leaving a black stain in the shape of her blade. Satisfied, she wiped a bit of dried blood off of the corner of her mouth and put a hand on her hip.

“How many fatalities d’you reckon this voyage will have?” She snickered.

“None.” Arthur snapped.

“That’s unrealistic, my lord.”

“I would highly recommend you stop.” Arthur growled.

“I expect Sam will be the first to go.” Mary remarked. “He’s pathetic with a sword.”

“Stop it.” Merlin hissed.

The cooks and extra hands had taken shelter in the lower deck, leaving only around a dozen or so women above deck to face the Sirens. At one to two blades per beast, they were losing fast.

Arthur gave Merlin’s shoulder a nudge, a nonverbal cue to ignore Mary and get back in the ring.

They made their way towards the action.

A Siren dropped to the floor to their left, Sam’s sword sticking out of its throat. The boy wrenched his blade free and took a step back, breathing hard.

“Only 6 to go!” He called cheerfully, sweat dripping down his freckled face.

Merlin smiled and opened his mouth to respond but was suddenly shoved to the floor.

He winced in pain and looked up just in time to see Arthur struggling with his blade lodged between the Siren’s jaws. It gnashed its teeth and screeched directly into Arthur’s face, spraying him with bits of Siren spit and making Merlin’s ears ring uncomfortably.

It retracted its teeth slightly to get to a better angle for devouring Arthur but misjudged how quick he was and ended up with a sword through its stomach.

It gave a slightly weaker screech and fell limp.

“Make that 5,” Arthur groaned, struggling to keep the full weight of the beast from rolling onto Merlin.

“You saved my life!” Merlin exclaimed, trying to calm himself down after what was by all accounts a terrifying experience.

Arthur heaved the Siren’s body off of his shoulder and dumped it onto the deck.

“No need to act so surprised.” He laughed.

“What happened to letting the Sirens eat me?”

“I’m doing them a favor. I reckon you’d make the poor things sick,” Arthur remarked.

Suddenly, Merlin felt someone standing behind him.

He tensed.

He turned slowly and let out a sigh of relief when he saw who it was.

“Figured you boys would need some help,” Lillian grinned.

“Can’t imagine what gave you that impression,” Samuel suddenly appeared, jogging over to join them.

“It had quite a lot to do with the screaming,” She admitted, taking a quick second to tuck her hair into the collar of her jacket. “How many are left?”

“Five,” Merlin replied.

“Where have you been?” Samuel asked suddenly.

Lillian shot Merlin a slightly guilty look.

“Eleanor wasn’t feeling well. She was in no position to fight.”

“Ah. I understand,” Sam nodded.

“Me too.” Merlin said, giving Lillian a meaningful nod.

Lillian visibly relaxed.

“Let’s get back at it, then,” Sam said eagerly. “We’ve got the numbers to finish this.”

“Right. Arthur, let’s-“

Merlin turned to where Arthur should have been.

His blood ran cold.

“I let him out of my sight,” He whispered, turning to face Lillian with horror in his eyes.

She paled.

“Where’s Arthur?” Sam asked uneasily.

Merlin turned to the edge of the ship and found Arthur standing and facing three Sirens, all of whom were singing. The other sailors were still fighting them, but their strange eyes were fixated on Arthur.

Arthur’s feet dragged as if he were trying to stop himself from walking forward, but his eyes were filled with tears and his arm was half outstretched as if he were unsure of himself.

“He drank a vial, I saw it myself,” Samuel turned to Lillian with a pleading look in his eyes. “Why is he affected?”

“There’s three of them,” Lillian breathed, eyes wide with shock. “They must all be singing for him.”

Merlin couldn’t breathe.

Arthur’s face was horror stricken. He took another step forward but then he shook his head and retreated a few steps.

“It’s not enough,” Lillian breathed. “He’s actually fighting it.”

Merlin was already running.

“ARTHUR!” He roared,

Arthur turned his head slightly as if he’d heard.

“Merlin?” He asked. His glassy eyes focused slightly and he took a tentative step in Merlin’s direction.

The sky was turning to sunset.

Arthur’s silhouette and that of the three sirens stood out harshly against the soft pink sky.

Arthur locked eyes with Merlin.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

Merlin couldn’t tell if he knew what was happening or not.

Suddenly, the song grew louder. Another Siren from across the deck had flung its adversary against the floor and stepped over her as if she weren’t there. It joined the song.

Arthur seemed to lose any semblance of restraint he’d been holding onto. He turned and began walking unreservedly with his arm fully outstretched.

His sword clattered to the deck.

“Merlin, please don’t,” Arthur was saying. “Please, I can’t-“

Merlin was nearly to Arthur when another Siren skittered into his path and sent him flying with a flick of its tail.

He hit the deck hard and his vision went blurry.

The siren skittered toward him, screeching.

He held up a hand and sent it flying to the side. It hit a mast with a violent crunch and immediately began to haul itself back to its feet.

The sailor who’d been fighting the siren gasped and looked around as if to see if anyone else had seen.

Lillian shot her a dangerous look that shut her mouth before she had even opened it.

The Sirens were closing in on Arthur.

Merlin scrambled to his feet but was suddenly passed by someone running twice as fast.

Samuel was sprinting towards the Sirens, his blade aimed to impale.

Merlin rocketed to his feet and held up a hand, knocking the legs out from the Siren Sam was beelining for. His sword made contact in its side but didn’t kill it.

It abandoned its song and screamed.

Samuel responded by burying his sword into its chest, silencing it for good.

Arthur shook his head and retracted his arm. He took a step back but immediately took two more steps forward.

He was fighting it, but it still wasn’t enough.

“ARTHUR!” Merlin screamed.

The prince blinked and turned his head halfway.

“Merlin, please,” He said quietly, desperation clear in his tone. “Don’t do this to me.”

He was looking through Merlin.

Lilly joined the fray as well, slashing and stabbing at any inch of the Siren she could reach. She was truly ferocious to watch, and her swordsmanship was so impressive that even Arthur would be in awe if he were in his right mind.

Merlin began to use his magic unreservedly knowing full well Arthur was still too entranced to care. He was still running.

He sent the last Siren to his knees with a wave of his hand.

The beast collapsed onto the floor and swung its tail wildly in response, nearly knocking Sam over.

When Merlin finally reached Arthur, he tackled him to the ground and looped a hand under each of Arthur’s arms to hold him steady.

Arthur was acting more sleepy than entranced, 3 of the 4 sirens having been killed. He turned his glassy eyes to the side and blinked confusedly.

“Merlin?”

“I’ve got you.” Merlin muttered. “I’ve got you.”

The final siren fell by Sam’s hand and Arthur’s eyes slowly refocused. He took a second to figure out where he was.

He frowned.

“Are you hugging me?” Arthur demanded.

“Are you crying?” Merlin countered.

“Fair enough.”

Arthur wiped his eyes and coughed, shaking Merlin’s arms off of himself over dramatically.

“Dreadful breach of decorum, that.” He remarked.

“Would you rather I let the Sirens have you?”

“Perhaps they’d talk less.”

Merlin had no time to think of a witty response, as he was momentarily interrupted by Lillian addressing the crew in a loud voice.

“Get below deck. The Siren bodies will be disposed of later tonight. For now, tend to the wounded and get some well-deserved rest. You all fought valiantly today, and you will be repaid greatly for it. Thank you.”

The sailors murmured their approval and began to file downstairs.

Sam made a beeline for Merlin and Arthur. He was covered in Siren blood.

“How are you feeling?” He asked Arthur.

“Still slightly dizzy,” Arthur admitted.

“Better than being Siren fodder,” Sam laughed.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Well, I’ll be off. I’d like to wash up a bit before dinner.” Samuel said, gesturing to his clothes. He was leaving a trail of black puddles wherever he walked.

“Yes, I think that would be best.” Merlin grinned.

Lillian made her way over to the group and placed a hand on Samuel’s shoulder.

“You fought well today, Sammy.”

“Thank you!” Samuel beamed.

Lillian gave him a fond smile and jerked her head towards the retreating group of sailors.

“Off you go.”

Samuel waved goodbye and gave them all one last smile before jogging off to join the others.

Arthur placed a hand in the center of his forehead and groaned.

“My head is killing me,” He winced.

“I’d expect that much. You endured four siren songs at once,” Lillian mused. “I can hardly believe you’re still coherent, to tell you the truth.”

Arthur chuckled. Suddenly, his face fell and he glanced around.

“Hang on,” He asked uneasily. “Where’s Mary?”

Lillian paled.

Merlin frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

As if on cue, the door to the captains quarters burst open.

Mary stepped out, dragging Eleanor behind her.

Arthur leapt to his feet.

Lillian drew her sword.

Mary surveyed the group before her with cold eyes and smiled.

She brought a dagger up to Eleanor’s throat and pressed it up against her skin.

“Stay where you are.”

Chapter Text

Mary was unhinged. Her icy eyes were narrowed and filled with such a violent glee that Merlin felt a strange mix of pity and fear towards her. With her white knuckled grip on her dagger and the chaos in her smile that sharply contrasted her otherwise pristine appearance, she looked for all the world like a woman with nothing to lose.

Mary’s grin grew as she watched the panicked expressions on everyone’s faces.

Her eyes were full to the brim with hunger.

Hunger for what, Merlin couldn’t say.

“Mary,” Lillian warned, a dangerous edge to her voice that very nearly managed to conceal her fear. “Let her go.”

Mary grinned wickedly and pressed the dagger against Eleanor’s neck twice as hard, prompting her to gasp in pain.

“I don’t think so. Drop your weapons. All of you.” Mary demanded.

When nobody moved, her icy eyes narrowed.

”Perhaps I wasn’t clear,” She purred. “Drop your weapons or I’ll fillet her.”

The silence hung in the air as if tangible.

They could all tell she was serious.

Sam, who had rejoined the group after hearing all the commotion, made a noise like he was crying, and Lillian instinctively placed a hand around his shoulder.

Arthur turned slowly to look at Merlin, eyes conflicted.

There was a question in his gaze that Merlin found himself incapable of answering.

Lillian’s sword was the first to fall. The metallic clang brought a triumphant glint to Mary’s eye and tears to Eleanor’s.

“I’m not worth whatever she wants,” Eleanor begged. “Please.”

Lillian gave her a teary-eyed smile and shook her head.

“It’s going to be okay, Ellie. You’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Don’t lie to her,” Mary groaned. “I can’t stand liars.”

Samuel followed Lillian’s lead, laying the sword he carried beside hers and taking a step back.

“I’m sorry, Eleanor,” He whispered, casting her a sorrowful glance.

Eleanor tried to give him a reassuring smile but it quickly turned into a grimace as Mary dug the blade deeper.

Arthur and Merlin exchanged grim looks.

Their swords clattered to the floor next.

“What the hell do you want?” Lillian growled, her voice cracking slightly. Her fists were clenched and her eyes watery.

Mary grinned but her eyes darkened.

“I’m so glad you asked.”

She forced Eleanor to her knees and kept the blade steady.

“I want revenge.”

“I thought so.” Merlin scoffed.

Mary rounded on him with a slightly crazed look in her eyes. Lillian gave him a similar look.

“Too predictable, am I?” Mary hissed.

Merlin was wishing he’d just let her ribs stay broken at the moment.

“It’s just that we’ve met quite a few people like you before,” Arthur admitted. Despite the situation he looked almost amused.

“Uther Pendragon ruined my life,” Mary spat.

“Great,” Merlin groaned. “If I had a coin for every time I’ve heard that from people like you I’d be rich enough to buy a better king.”

Arthur tried his best to convey that despite his stifled grin he very much disapproved of such talk against his father. It didn’t work, but he knew that just as well as anyone.

Arthur’s lack of anxiety about the situation was contagious; it had even relaxed Eleanor despite her position beneath a knife poised to kill. The only one who still seemed anxious was Lillian.

Suddenly, Merlin froze.

Lillian must know something else.

Something she hadn’t told Merlin.

He glanced over. Her dark eyes were brimming with tears and she seemed unable to even look at anyone but Eleanor.

Merlin’s mind was racing.

Lillian had told him that Mary was meant to SAVE Eleanor’s life.

Why, then, was Mary THREATENING her life?

Unless Lillian had lied.

Merlin looked over at her again.

He detected a hint of guilt in her eyes.

No.

“How did my father ruin your life? I’m sure we can work something out,” Arthur was saying, hands raised in an attempt to calm everyone down.

Mary shot him a dangerous glare in return.

“My father is broke.”

“I thought you said-?” Sam began, but Mary gave him a venomous look that shut him up immediately.

“I know what I said.” Mary snapped. “My father was one of the wealthiest men in the five kingdoms before Uther Pendragon ruined it all.”

“My father and Lord Henry were good friends,” Arthur insisted, genuine confusion apparent on his face. “He had nothing to do with Henry’s financial ruin.”

“Oh, really?” Mary scoffed. “My father was found guilty of adultery.”

Arthur frowned and looked to Merlin as if he could offer any clarification.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Aldith’s king had a child by another woman,” Lillian explained quietly, speaking rapidly and still fighting tears. “She killed him for it.”

“Ever since, she takes adultery rather seriously,” Sam finished for her, his own eyes still puffy. “Those found guilty of it have to forfeit nearly all of their wealth to their spouse. And they’re the lucky ones.”

Arthur was faltering slightly.

“That doesn’t explain my father’s involvement.”

Sam sighed, casting another panicked glance at Eleanor.

“It’s an archaic law, but in our kingdom one can receive a reduced sentence if a person of royal blood vouches for you,” He explained. “But you only get to petition one person. If they say no-“

“Your life gets ruined,” Mary spat. “My father went to Uther but he refused to defend him.”

“I always did wonder why Lord Henry stopped showing up to my birthdays,” Arthur mused.

“My mother left us. She couldn’t bear to be seen as the wife of an adulterer.” Mary spat.

“Was your father guilty?” Merlin cut in.

Mary froze, mouth hanging open in shock and her eyes wild.

“How DARE you-!”

“If Uther said no he must’ve had a reason,” Merlin pointed out. “If he thought your father did it he probably didn’t want to risk upsetting Aldith by vouching for a guilty man.”

Arthur gave him a sideways glance that seemed almost grateful. Despite his many flaws, Uther really did mean a lot to Arthur. Merlin could (usually) never bring himself to disrespect that.

Merlin offered him a small smile in return.

“One more word and she’s dead,” Mary hissed.

A thin trickle of blood creeping down Eleanor’s neck confirmed her threat’s legitimacy.

Mary was shaking with rage.

“Listen carefully,” She growled. “You’ve got a choice.”

“How kind of you.” Merlin deadpanned.

Arthur slapped him.

“What’s the choice?” Lillian demanded.

“Arthur or Eleanor.” Mary said simply.

Merlin paled.

“What?”

“One of them isn’t making it off of this boat,” Mary growled. “It’s your choice.”

“All of this for MONEY?” Arthur scoffed. “Why would you go through all this trouble?”

“I don’t care what happens to me and I don’t care about money,” Mary laughed. “It’s about revenge. I want you dead.”

“I am not my father.” Arthur growled.

“Yes, but you are the only thing that can hurt him.”

Arthur faltered.

His eyes were wide with an indeterminate emotion and he looked back at Merlin reflexively. The blue did not reflect the sky this time, but rather the panic in Merlin’s face.

Merlin shot Lillian a pleading glance but found her face tear-stained and stony.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” He breathed desperately, anger creeping into his voice. “You told me she would save Eleanor’s life.”

Arthur frowned.

“What?”

Sam was looking between the three of them, just as perplexed as Arthur.

“Supposed to happen?” He muttered confusedly.

Lillian cast Merlin an exceptionally guilty look and shook her head.

“It was always going to come to this. I couldn’t change anything. The only difference is that I’m here to stop it.”

Merlin’s stomach dropped.

“You lied to me.”

“You wouldn’t see reason.”

“How DARE you?”

“I had to.”

“Why would you even tell me to keep her with us if it was always going to end like this?” Merlin demanded.

“I hoped that maybe she would...” Lillian glanced at Arthur. “...speed things up, as it were.”

“Merlin, what the hell is going on?” Arthur demanded, taking a step away from Lillian. “What do you mean this wasn’t supposed to happen?”

“You have no right to blame me,” Lillian begged. “You know you don’t.”

Merlin stared, jaw wired shut and eyes hardened.

“This is all very entertaining but I’d like an answer now, please,” Mary drawled and cut deeper into Eleanor’s neck to usher another cry out of her. “I have no reservations about gutting her right now if you prove to be too indecisive.”

“Stop it. Let her go, please,” Arthur addressed Mary and raised his hands in surrender. “Take me instead.”

“My lord, I’m not worth the life of a prince,” Eleanor insisted, failing to disguise the fear in her voice.

“Arthur, stop,” Merlin begged.

Arthur turned his head halfway and winked.

Merlin’s eyebrows shot up and he momentarily forgot his panic. He tried not to let his surprise show on his face in order to maintain Arthur’s cover.

What was he thinking?

Surely Mary wasn’t stupid enough to fall for whatever it was.

But maybe, Merlin thought as he watched Mary’s eyes darting back and forth. Maybe she was desperate enough.

The blonde woman smiled.

“Daddy’s little diplomat, aren’t you?”

Arthur approached her slowly, arms raised. He didn’t answer.

“Kneel.” Mary barked, glee filling her twisted face.

Arthur obeyed, and kneeled facing her with his hands behind his back.

Merlin saw that his hands were relaxed and open.

He was planning something.

Mary retracted her blade from Eleanor’s neck and and shoved her away roughly.

She staggered across the deck and into Lillian’s arms, who immediately started dabbing at her neck with a handkerchief.

“My lord, don’t-“ she begged one last time.

“It’s alright, Eleanor,” Arthur said calmly, even going so far as to offer her a smile.

“Arthur, what are you doing?” Sam breathed.

“I’m doing what has to be done.”

Arthur turned his head to face Merlin and gave him a soft grin.

“I still expect you at work tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Merlin said numbly. He didn’t know what Arthur was doing yet, so his brain was repressing any and all emotion at the moment.

Mary put one hand behind her back and raised the dagger high with the other hand. Her grin was filled to the brim with such manic happiness that even Arthur’s confidence dimmed slightly.

“Goodbye, Arthur Pendragon.”

She brought the dagger down with an animalistic scream.

Arthur’s hand shot to his boot and produced a small knife which he rammed into her chest before the dagger even came close to striking him.

Mary coughed, mild surprise on her face.

Blood began trickling out of the corner of her mouth.

She stepped back and touched a hand to her wound, looking slightly dazed when it came back bloodied.

Then, Mary began laughing.

“You got me!” She cried.

She fell to her knees and clutched her chest, breathing raggedly.

“Not quick enough, though.” Mary tutted, an unnaturally wide smile growing on her lips.

She held up her left hand and opened it up for them to see.

A thin white object covered in blood fell to the floor.

A Siren’s fang.

“I win,” she hissed gleefully before collapsing onto the deck.

Merlin’s blood ran cold.

Arthur hauled himself to his feet and turned around, blinking rapidly. Blood leaked from a small wound in his chest; the tooth was thin enough to have bypassed his chainmail entirely.

His eyes caught Merlin’s.

Arthur’s pupils were unnaturally dilated and his breathing was quick and shallow. He smiled weakly.

“Ouch.”

Arthur fell to his knees.

Merlin lunged forward and just barely managed to catch him before he collapsed to the ground in a heap.

“Arthur? ARTHUR?”

Merlin eased him to the floor as gently as he could, panic seeping into his brain and clouding his thoughts.

Arthur’s mouth hung open like a fish out of water. His eyes were half open and his hands had gone limp.

Merlin placed his hand on the prince’s forehead and moved his hair back gently. He was burning up.

“Merlin, that’s Siren venom,” Lillian began quietly. “Nothing is going to-“

“Don’t.” Eleanor said, quieting her immediately.

Sam held onto Eleanor’s shoulder as if afraid he would pass out.

From where she lay bleeding out on the deck, Mary was chuckling weakly.

Merlin placed his hands on Arthur’s wound and took a shaky breath.

“Ic hæle þina þrowunga,” He hissed desperately. “Come on, Arthur.”

The wound creeped shut but Arthur didn’t wake up.

Merlin closed his eyes and pressed his hands down more firmly.

He could still feel the venom surging towards Arthur’s heart. It wouldn’t be enough to close the surface wound.

“Þurhhæle dolgbenn!” Merlin yelled.

Arthur didn’t stir.

Sam buried his head in Eleanor’s shoulder. Lillian gathered them both into her arms and looked away.

“Þurhhæle dolgbenn!”

Nothing happened.

“Wake up,” Merlin hissed, fighting back tears. “You can’t do this to me. Þurhhæle dolgbenn!”

Arthur’s breathing was fading fast.

“Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!” Merlin roared.

The prince didn’t move.

“Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!” Merlin cried desperately. “Please, just wake up.”

“Merlin, he’s-“

Lillian was cut off by Eleanor shoving her away. Tears filled both of their eyes.

“Please don’t leave me,” Merlin was whispering. “Please”

He took a shaky breath.

“Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!”

“Merlin, he’s DEAD!” Lillian suddenly shouted. “He’s dead and he isn’t coming back.”

Merlin couldn’t even hear her.

“Please. You’re destined for so much more than this. I was supposed to help you,” Merlin choked out through his tears. “Everyone needs you.”

Arthur’s glassy eyes remained unseeing.

“I need you,” Merlin whispered. “Please.”

He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut.

Arthur wasn’t going to die.

Not if he could help it.

“Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!” Merlin roared at the top of his lungs.

He sat back on his heels, breathing hard.

Arthur’s face didn’t change.

Merlin watched him desperately for any sign of life.

There was nothing.

Sobs overtook Merlin. He collapsed and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s lifeless body, crying openly.

Eleanor and Sam began weeping as well, and they drew each other into a tight embrace. Lillian stood alone, jaw set but eyes overflowing with guilt.

Mary had long since fallen silent.

Suddenly, Merlin felt a hand reach up and ruffle his hair.

“You’re acting as if somebody died!” A voice by his ear exclaimed.

Merlin straightened up wildly and blinked. The tears were still blurring his vision.

Arthur grinned up at him.

“Why is everyone crying?” He asked with a small laugh.

Merlin stared.

His eyes were blue and lively. His hair was messy and drenched in sweat. His chest had no wounds and moved with each steady breath.

He was alive.

Arthur was alive.

Merlin flung his arms around his neck and burst into relieved laughter. He couldn’t believe it.

Arthur returned the hug without reservation and waited for Merlin to let go first.

Sam and Eleanor were still weeping but it appeared to have switched to tears of joy.

Lillian was staring at the prince in disbelief and leaning against a mast for support.

“You were dead,” Merlin laughed with disbelief and held Arthur at arm’s length.

“Well, I’m fairly certain I’m not dead anymore,” Arthur chuckled.

Then, his smile dimmed.

“What happened?”

“Mary stabbed you with a Siren’s fang,” Merlin explained.

“I was stabbed?” Arthur asked disbelievingly. “Where?”

“I- uh, what?” Merlin faltered.

Arthur laughed and cast Lillian a questioning glance which she returned with a forced smile.

“Merlin, I don’t feel any pain,” Arthur explained slowly. “And I don’t have any wounds.”

“I- yes, I’m aware,” Merlin stuttered.

“What happened?”

“I- uh- it’s a funny story really...”

“Merlin,” Arthur insisted in a low voice. “Get to the point.”

Sam and Eleanor had collected themselves and were now gazing at Merlin with a combination of pity and nervousness.

Arthur’s smile was gone now.

Merlin shot a pleading look at Lillian but her eyes were cold.

“Merlin,” Arthur repeated with a hint of suspicion in his tone. “What happened?”

Chapter Text

Arthur stared, his usually warm blue eyes growing ever colder as the silence dragged on. He raised a tentative hand and placed it on his chest, still bloodied from the now nonexistent wound. When his palm came away red, he closed his eyes and slowly lowered his hand as if every movement was agonizing.

Merlin could hardly breathe.

The night had begun to settle around them, flooding the deck in harsh shadows and giving everything the appearance of being slightly desaturated.

Arthur looked more weary than Merlin had ever seen him before. The moonlight had stolen the color from his cheeks and replaced the soft curves and lines of his face with sharp edges.

Occasionally, Merlin was forcibly reminded of everything Arthur had been through. It was not something either he or the prince found pleasure in discussing, but the scars still surfaced from time to time in the littler things. The most startling and reliable way to see those types of scars were to watch Arthur’s eyes when he was upset; and he was truly upset at the moment. His eyes seemed duller, more deep, and filled to the brim with sorrow.

And, Merlin thought with a growing sense of hopelessness. It was he who had brought these feelings upon Arthur.

It wasn’t Merlin’s fault. He knew that. He also knew that it might not matter in the end.

Arthur raised his hand and pushed his hair back out of his face reflexively. He glanced up at Merlin for a split second, but neither of them could manage to hold the other’s gaze.

Merlin tried desperately to think of something, anything that sounded innocent, but nothing came to mind. He was stuck, and the truth was all that was left. There was no way out.

Perhaps Lillian would vouch for him.

Did she not owe him that much?

He cast her a pleading look which she returned with a truly pained expression. Finally, evidently having tired of staring at the product of all her mistakes, Lillian spoke.

“What now, my lord?”

That was all she could come up with? Merlin thought with a pang of betrayal. He supposed that he shouldn’t have expected different; Lillian had done nothing but disappoint him as of late. Her words were neutral, indicative of her desire to stay on Arthur’s good side no matter how he ended up reacting.

Merlin wanted to scream.

Arthur set his jaw and sighed deeply, a flash of what looked like irritation in the glance he gave Lillian.

“Leave us.” He said quietly.

“But, my lord, this has surely been a stressful day for us all,“ Lillian protested. “Perhaps this type of discussion would be best reserved for tomorrow morning.”

“Leave us.”

Lillian immediately abandoned her efforts, casting Merlin one last guilty look before bowing and disappearing into the captain’s quarters.

Eleanor and Sam bowed their heads solemnly and gave Merlin a few nervous glances. He tried to smile at them but couldn’t bring himself to offer more than a half hearted nod. They both returned it before wrapping an arm around each other’s shoulders and filing down below deck.

Merlin and Arthur were alone.

They sat on the deck facing each other, scarcely a foot of space between them. Arthur’s expression had shifted, and his eyes now registered as slightly less cold than before.

Merlin wasn’t sure if this was an improvement or not, for now the prince seemed defeated.

He would prefer be yelled at, insulted, denounced, or even killed rather than be the reason Arthur looked like this.

“Arthur, I-”

“Don’t.”

Arthur looked incredibly old in that moment. The lines in his face felt deeper, enhanced by the shadows the moon cast upon him as if to whisper its condolences.

Merlin nodded and let his eyes fall to the floor.

The silence was suffocating.

This was it, then. It was always going to come to this, of course. Merlin had known from the moment he’d first been appointed Arthur’s manservant. From the first time Arthur had thrown something at him to the first time he ever said thank you. From the first time Merlin saved his life to the first time he found he was willing to die for Arthur. It was always, inevitably, going to come to this.

Merlin allowed his eyes to rise to Arthur’s face. The prince’s jaw was set and his eyes lowered to the floor. He wasn’t any more ready for this than Merlin was.

Perhaps Arthur had always had his suspicions. Perhaps he’d merely hoped he was wrong.

It didn’t matter now.

Khilgarrah’s words on the first day he’d met Arthur trudged through his mind over and over as if it were mocking him.

‘The half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole.’

Now was Arthur’s chance to prove it.

After a few minutes, Arthur finally looked up. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and gentler than Merlin had ever remembered Arthur being.

“I’m sure you know what I’m thinking.”

Finding himself unable to speak, Merlin settled on nodding.

Arthur gave him a half smile that was so empty he may as well have frowned instead.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Merlin remained silent.

He couldn’t bring himself to say a single word, for every option was a death sentence in one way or another. If he lied, Arthur would know. He may escape certain execution but Arthur would never trust him again.

If he told the truth, Arthur would kill him. Or he’d be imprisoned until they arrived back to Camelot where Merlin would be tried and killed publicly.

Or, Arthur might keep his secret. He might say that he knew the whole time, assure Merlin that it changes nothing, and smile.

But that wasn’t realistic.

The prince’s shoulders visibly fell and his eyes slipped down to the deck, a thin line forming between his eyebrows. Merlin thought he saw his gaze harden.

Impersonal.

That was all Merlin could think.

Already Arthur was distancing himself from him and Merlin was watching the walls go up in real time.

Probably to make the execution easier.

“Please,” Arthur said in a low voice. “I want you to tell me that I’m wrong.”

“You were dying,” Merlin replied quietly. “I had to do something.”

His heart was in his throat.

Arthur didn’t respond.

Merlin wished he would just get it over with. For better or for worse, he wished Arthur would just smile and say everything was going to be alright or kill Merlin then and there.

“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Arthur said, raising his eyes to meet Merlin’s. “Please don’t lie to me. What really happened?”

There was no point in hiding anything anymore.

“Mary stabbed you with a Siren’s fang on the left side of your chest,” Merlin began.

Arthur brought a hand to where the wound used to be.

“You were dying from the venom and I had to do something. I couldn’t lose you,” Merlin said. “So I healed you. I didn’t even know if it would work.”

The tears that had been threatening to fall with every syllable finally made their way down Merlin’s face.

Arthur’s gaze was filled with pain.

“I want to hear you say it,” He said after a moment, voice shaking slightly.

“Arthur, I-“

“Don’t,” Arthur cut him off. “Please. I just need to hear it from you.”

Merlin tried to slow his breathing and blink back his tears.

Arthur kept looking directly into his eyes.

Judgement day had arrived.

“Arthur,” Merlin began softly. “I’m a sorcerer. I have magic.”

Arthur visibly deflated.

He had known, of course. But hearing it out loud seemed to break something further in him, something that had perhaps been holding onto hope that this was all an elaborate joke.

“I was born with it, I didn’t choose this,” Merlin tried to explain, fighting to keep the panic out of his his voice. “I’ve only ever used it to protect you, I swear. I didn’t-“

“All these years,” Arthur said quietly, more to himself than to Merlin. “Why did I never notice?”

Merlin didn’t have an answer for that.

Arthur gritted his teeth and ran a hand down his face. He sighed heavily and fixed Merlin with a hurt expression.

“Why did you never tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to have to feel like this,” Merlin admitted quietly.

Arthur let out a hollow laugh.

“The threat of execution hangs over your head and you were worried about hurting my feelings?”

“The execution part did cross my mind,” Merlin admitted, offering Arthur a weak smile.

He didn’t return it.

Arthur frowned.

“You saved my life.”

“It wasn’t easy.”

“It almost seems as if you’ve done it before.”

Merlin’s heart threatened to leap out of his chest with nerves.

“A few times.”

“You’ve never once sought any credit. Not for any of it,” Arthur said, an indeterminate emotion in his gaze. “Why?”

“I don’t do it for recognition,” Merlin admitted.

“Then why? My father is the champion of anti-magic sentiment and I am supposed to be just like him,” Arthur said fiercely, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. “Why would you keep me alive if my future rule threatens your people? You had the power to save me from Siren venom so you certainly have the power to kill me; why not just do it?”

“Because I know you.” Merlin said simply.

Arthur faltered.

“What?”

“You are Arthur first and a prince second,” Merlin explained, his tears halting themselves long enough to allow him some semblance of coherency. “And I know that you will rule as Arthur, not as Uther.”

Arthur stared, eyes wide and conflicted.

“You trust me that much?”

“Of course,” Merlin said earnestly. “You’re my closest friend.”

They fell silent for a few minutes.

“I’m not going to turn you in.” Arthur said finally. He looked as if he didn’t quite believe it until it came out of his mouth.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Please,” Arthur said with a hollow laugh. “I didn’t even know that I wouldn’t until right now.”

“I’m glad you decided not to.” Merlin said, allowing himself a real smile.

“I was going to,” Arthur said, eyes full of regret. “I really thought I was going to.”

He looked up at Merlin.

“I’m sorry. You’re my closest friend, too; and I would never forgive myself if I did anything to hurt you.”

“Well, you didn’t actually do anything wrong. You just thought about it,” Merlin pointed out. “No apology needed.”

“Thank you.”

Then, as an afterthought.

“I need time. To think, I mean. Your secret is safe with me, but-“

“It’s alright. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you.”

“What changed your mind?” Merlin asked with a grin. “You don’t go from an intent to kill to being civil for no reason.”

Arthur shrugged and fixed him with such a warm smile that Merlin suddenly stopped breathing.

“I just thought about what I’d do without you.”

Merlin let out a sound like he’d been punched.

“And anyways, I suppose we’re even now.” Arthur laughed, evidently not having noticed Merlin’s reaction.

“What?”

“One life threatening secret for another,” Arthur said, smiling sadly. “In the eyes of my father, I expect we’re equally as unwelcome.”

After a moment, Arthur shook his head as if to rid himself of that sobering train of thought and fixed Merlin with a good-natured grin.

“This explains your immunity to the song at least. For a moment there I thought we might be in the same boat.”

Merlin shrugged.

It was the least incriminating response he could think to give.

Arthur noticed his pointed silence and seemed to perk up ever so slightly.

He coughed.

“I don’t even want to think of what my father would say if he knew I was covering for you.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t find out, then,” Merlin grinned.

“I think he’d kill both of us.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Merlin was thrilled to find out he had been allowed to sleep in, something that hadn’t happened since he first began working for Arthur. Waking up naturally was a luxury that he was rarely afforded.

He laid still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling and feeling the gentle breeze waft in from the window. Merlin had left it open on accident the night before, too overcome with relief to put much thought towards anything but the knowledge that he was free.

For the first time in a long time, Merlin was actually free. Not entirely, for there was always Uther to ruin things; but Arthur’s reaction ensured that at least in the absence of the king, he was always accepted.

Merlin smiled softly.

Things were going to be okay.

Suddenly, somebody knocked on his door. They sounded hesitant.

“Merlin?”

His good mood faded instantly.

It was Lillian.

Merlin didn’t move immediately. Perhaps she would just go away, he thought, and he wouldn’t have to talk to her.

“You slept through breakfast; I brought you something to eat.”

Right. She wasn’t going anywhere, then.

Merlin dragged himself out of bed and took a deep breath before easing the door open. He made an effort to look as neutral as possible despite the lingering rage from yesterday’s events.

“Hi,” Lillian said awkwardly, rather looking as if she had been wishing Merlin wouldn’t answer.

She got her wish, though perhaps not in the way she intended, as Merlin opted not to respond to her greeting. He glowered at her, feeling the unresolved anger from the previous night bubbling up inside of him.

It was awfully bold of her, Merlin thought, to approach him now as if nothing had happened.

“I, uh, brought you some breakfast,” Lillian tried, painfully aware of Merlin’s sour mood. She extended the plate to him.

Merlin accepted it wordlessly, never breaking eye contact.

“How are you holding up?” Lillian asked, chancing a smile.

“Can we drop the pleasantries, please?” Merlin snapped coldly.

Lillian’s face fell.

“Right, all business. S’pose I deserve that.”

Merlin wasn’t inclined to disagree.

Lillian sighed.

“We need to talk.”

“I agree,” Merlin said curtly.

Lillian paused for a moment, her expression caught somewhere between indignation and guilt. She clearly hated being talked to like this, but felt badly enough that she was prevented from calling Merlin out on it.

“Look, can I come in? I’d rather not do this in the hallway.”

Glaring daggers, Merlin stepped aside and gestured for her to enter.

Lillian shot him a grateful glance and went to stand beside the window.

Her dark hair was slicked up into a perfect bun and she carried her hat under one arm; she looked exactly as she had on the first day that Merlin met her. Perhaps that was on purpose. Perhaps she was trying to make him forget about everything she’d done.

Merlin eased the door shut behind him and gave Lillian an expectant look.

“What do you want?”

“Arthur seems happy this morning,” Lillian said, chancing a smile. “I take it last night went well.”

“What do you want?” Merlin repeated with slightly more force.

Her smile disappeared and she sighed.

“I want to apologize.”

“I think I’ve had enough of your apologies, thanks,” Merlin snapped, setting the plate on top of his bedside table.

“I know what I did was unforgivable,” Lillian began quietly.

“You lied to me.”

This seemed to catch the captain off guard; she looked as if the lying wasn’t exactly at the top of her list of things to apologize for.

Lillian frowned.

“Yes, I lied,” She said slowly. “I was desperate and-“

“Arthur could have died,” Merlin spat.

“Eleanor could have too,” Lillian pointed out. “But neither of them did.”

“She’s only alive because of Arthur, and Arthur is only alive because of me,” Merlin hissed. “All you did was put us in more danger.”

“I thought I was helping,” She said quietly, genuine guilt in her expression.

“Helping?” Merlin scoffed. “Your plan was to get Arthur killed in Eleanor’s place. You were only helping yourself.”

“I know you hate to admit it, but we’re the same,” Lillian said, tone growing increasingly desperate. She gestured to the door, towards Arthur’s room. “I know you would’ve done the same.”

“This doesn’t sound like much of an apology.”

“I’m getting there.”

“Get there faster.”

Lillian groaned, frustrated but refusing to give up.

“I don’t want you to tell me that what I did was justified,” She insisted. “I just need you to tell me that you understand why I did it.”

Merlin didn’t answer, but his eyes fell to the floor.

Lillian let out a small laugh.

“You understand,” She said with a slightly triumphant smile. “I know you do.”

“Why are you doing this?” Merlin demanded. “What could you possibly hope to gain?”

“Admit that you understand.”

“What?”

“Just tell me that you understand why I did it.”

“Lillian,” Merlin groaned, his anger mounting fast.

“Answer me.”

“I have to watch Arthur nearly die every other week,” Merlin blurted out. “Do you know what that’s like?”

Lillian’s expression sobered immediately. She could tell she’d struck a nerve.

“Do you know what it’s like to constantly wonder where the next threat will come from?” Merlin continued harshly. “Do you know how hard it is to constantly be bracing to lose him?”

Lillian’s eyes were wide.

“Or wait, here’s one you’ll know about!” Merlin laughed humorlessly. “Perhaps you know what it’s like to have to hide a massive secret from someone you care about.”

Lillian nodded numbly, eyes swimming with emotion.

“And, may I ask, do you know what it’s like to be forced to tell that person your secret before you’re ready? To not know if you’ll be killed by the very man you’d be willing to die for?”

“No,” Lillian whispered.

“Then forgive me for thinking that perhaps our circumstances are not as similar as you think,” Merlin spat. “I understand why you did it. Trust me. But we are NOT the same.”

A tear escaped Lillian’s eye.

“You didn’t come here to apologize, you came here to guilt me into telling you that what you did was okay,” Merlin continued angrily. “You want me to act like love justifies cruelty and I won’t do it.”

Lillian could do nothing but stare, mouth agape and eyes filled with tears.

Merlin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm the rage that had fueled his outburst. It felt nice to finally say all of this out loud.

“I can’t forgive you yet,” He said simply. “I’m sorry.”

Lillian wiped her eyes and shook her head.

“I thought I told you not to apologize if you haven’t done anything wrong,” She tutted, chancing a small smile.

Merlin returned it.

Lillian gave him a deeply grateful look and sighed heavily.

“I know it doesn’t mean much anymore, but I really am sorry.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said.

Then, he gave her a genuine smile and spoke again.

“I hope Eleanor forgives you. I mean that.”

Lillian bowed her head in recognition and sighed.

“And what about you? Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

Merlin thought for a moment.

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“If you keep trying to off Arthur I might need a bit more time,” He grinned.

“Ah. For your sake, then, I swear that my days of attempted treason are over.”

“Then I’m sure we’ll work things out someday.”

They fell silent for a moment before Lillian spoke again in a much softer voice.

“In my mother’s original vision, we ended this whole ordeal as friends.”

She looked up.

“Is that still possible?”

Merlin shrugged.

“I don’t see why not.”

Lillian smiled.

“Thank you, Merlin”

“Thank you for coming. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to tell you off,” Merlin grinned.

“I had it coming,” Lillian said, waving and making her way towards the door. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast.”

“Thank you, by the way,” Merlin called after her. “For the breakfast, I mean.”

“Don’t thank me,” Lillian laughed. “Arthur fixed you the plate.”

Chapter Text

“You can’t be serious.”

“I have never been more serious in my life.”

“You’re making this up.”

“Why on earth would I make this up?”

“To spite me.”

“Oh, absolutely. But it’s still true.”

Merlin and Arthur sat in the prince’s room, Merlin sitting on the floor and working to get siren blood off of Arthur’s boots while the latter sat upon his bed, moping.

“I thought I was just extraordinarily healthy,” Arthur insisted sheepishly.

Merlin blinked, fighting to keep any derision out of his voice and still not entirely sure if Arthur was joking or not.

“So healthy that an arrow to the back would heal overnight?”

“It seemed more plausible than sorcery at the time,” Arthur grumbled, crossing his arms.

Merlin let out a chuckle and fixed Arthur with a fond expression.

“You’ve been making excuses for me for years, haven’t you?”

“Not on purpose,” He admitted. “I just assumed you were lying to me for other reasons.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps to hide petty thievery or a trail of secret lovers.”

“Yes, I never told you but I’m actually quite the heartbreaker,” Merlin drawled.

Arthur glanced up with a strangely serious expression that immediately melted to a grin when he noticed that Merlin was kidding. He stared for perhaps a moment too long before speaking again.

“I just never let myself believe you’d do that to me,” He admitted.

Then, realizing what he’d said, his eyes widened in horror.

“That’s awful, isn’t it?”

Arthur groaned and shook his head as if to rid himself of the thought entirely.

“I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. You said you needed time; I get it,” Merlin assured him. “It’s only been four days.”

“It isn’t fair of me to say that no matter how long it’s been,” Arthur said with a frown. “I’ve been saying worse things for years and you don’t deserve to hear it anymore. You never did.”

Merlin’s eyes were shining. He stared openly, wondering exactly how long he’d been waiting to hear Arthur say those words.

Arthur sighed and turned to look at him, catching Merlin entirely off guard.

He blinked, frozen.

Arthur stared back, an odd look coming over his face.

“You can make it up to me by cleaning these yourself,” Merlin suggested quickly, holding up the impossibly stained boots and praying that Arthur hadn’t noticed the look in his eyes.

“I don’t feel quite that bad about it,” Arthur said, nose wrinkling in disgust.

“Then you can drop the attitude,” Merlin said airily. He resumed scrubbing the boot, which showed no signs of getting any cleaner.

“I don’t have an attitude,” Arthur grumbled.

“That sounded like an attitude to me,” Merlin remarked.

“I can still have you executed, you know.”

“Go for it; I’m tired of trying to clean these anyways.”

Arthur chuckled and fell silent.

Merlin thought for a moment and looked up, grinning.

“You know, the dragon was me as well.”

“Very funny,” Arthur scoffed.

“I’m not joking.”

Arthur froze.

“That’s impossible.”

“Of all the things I’ve told you, THIS is what strikes you as odd?” Merlin snorted.

“It’s all odd,” Arthur said defensively. “But this is simply too far.”

“How about this,” Merlin began with a derisive grin. “Go through all of the events as you remember them.”

Arthur glared.

“Fine.”

He cleared his throat.

“The dragon attacked Camelot.”

“Right.”

“We were preparing to make a last stand.”

“Right.”

“Eventually it was down to just me, you, and the dragon.”

“Right.”

“And I slayed the dragon,” Arthur concluded triumphantly.

“And that’s where you lose me,” Merlin laughed. “You didn’t slay anything.”

Arthur frowned.

“Who else could it have been?” He demanded.

Merlin blinked.

“Did you.... forget that I’m a sorcerer?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Arthur insisted. “Magic doesn’t make you any less of an incompetent fool, though.”

“You genuinely think that you killed a dragon with a single blow?”

“Yes.”

“You’re really sticking with that story?”

“Yes?” Arthur said with much less conviction.

Merlin busted out laughing, and Arthur joined in despite himself.

“I didn’t even kill the dragon,” Merlin admitted between bouts of laughter. “I just told it to leave.”

“I- what?” Arthur asked, eyes widening.

“Right. Forgot about that bit,” Merlin laughed nervously.

Arthur blinked.

“What?”

“I’m a dragonlord,” Merlin said hesitantly. “I forgot to tell you about that.”

“That’s impossible.”

“There’s that word again. Surely you know better by now.”

“You’ve actually gone mad, haven’t you?” Arthur breathed, only half joking.

“The abilities of dragonlords are passed from father to son,” Merlin explained, setting aside Arthur’s boots for the moment. “Balinor was my father.”

Arthur’s eyes widened again and he let out a breath of disbelief.

“You saw him fall,” He said quietly, voice resonating with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

Merlin felt a stab of sorrow and gritted his teeth against it. He could feel the heat behind his eyes and the tightening of his throat but refused to let himself cry; for if he did, he wasn’t sure when it would stop.

“And you mourned him alone?” Arthur continued quietly, looking at Merlin with gentler eyes than he’d ever displayed before.

“Gaius knew,” Merlin muttered, biting the inside of his cheek to contain his emotions. He hadn’t expected to have to confront this today.

“I should’ve been more sensitive.”

“You didn’t know,” Merlin assured him. “It’s alright.”

“I don’t think it is,” Arthur replied, voice barely a whisper. He glanced back at Merlin and sighed heavily.

“I know I haven’t always been the... nicest,” He said after a moment, speaking slowly and carefully. “And I know that I still have a long way to go.”

He stopped himself and chuckled slightly.

“A REALLY long way to go, to be honest.”

Merlin glanced up, eyes slightly narrowed. He wasn’t sure where Arthur was going with this, but the confusion had begun to shift his mind away from his father; which Merlin was exceptionally grateful for.

“I don’t really know what I’m saying,” Arthur admitted with a nervous laugh. “I suppose I just want you to know that you’re allowed to hold me accountable for the things I did before I knew.”

Merlin knit his eyebrows together and frowned confusedly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you can be upset with me. Hell, you probably should be upset with me,” Arthur said bitterly. “I haven’t done anything to make up for all the times I’ve hurt you or your people, whether it was on purpose or not. And for that I’ll never be sorry enough.”

“I don’t blame you, Arthur,” Merlin reassured him.

“You should.”

“I don’t.”

“Merlin, I led raids on Druid camps as a boy,” Arthur sighed. “I supported my father’s ideology, oversaw executions, imprisoned hundreds of people...”

His voice trailed off and he shook his head.

“I’m making it about me again, aren’t I? It’s not about me, It’s about the harm I’ve caused.”

Arthur looked back at Merlin and smiled weakly.

“It’s okay to hate me for all of it. I’ve done horrible things and you don’t have to forgive me.”

Merlin sighed but didn’t answer yet.

Arthur, apparently taking the silence as a cue to keep going, began again in a low and careful voice.

“I suppose I just never want you to feel as if my acceptance is conditional. You’re safe from persecution even if you hate me for all that I’ve done, and I promise I won’t hold anything against you.”

Arthur let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make myself into a victim, either. My choices were my own, and- God, I don’t know. I’m not good at this type of thing,” He said with an apologetic smile.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked.

The prince looked up, eyes wide.

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” Merlin said, giving him a gentle smile. “Please.”

Arthur nodded, too befuddled to object.

“For starters, I don’t hate you,” Merlin assured him. “I never did.”

Arthur make a sound as if he’d been punched.

“Secondly, the very fact that you’re willing to say all of this to me is proof that you really have changed,” Merlin said, giving Arthur a genuine smile. “And you don’t need to act as if you’re a horrible person. Honestly. You were only doing what was expected of you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Arthur said quietly.

“I know,” Merlin replied.

Suddenly, a knock at the door startled them both.

“Come in!” Merlin called, trying to consciously add a little more cheerfulness into his voice.

Lillian appeared in the doorway, wearing a ridiculous outfit that looked to be part of the women’s royal navy uniform. It consisted of a high necked blue coat with shiny gold buttons, a white dress that just barely reached the floor, and a large blue three-cornered hat that was embellished in gold thread. It looked, Merlin thought, like the most starchy and uncomfortable outfit in the world. Judging by the awkward way in which the captain was moving, its appearance was accurate.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Arthur blurted, immediately bearing a guilty expression for having been so crude.

Lillian glared.

“All the captains wear it. Although I usually never bother, Aldith is going to be there when we dock this evening to congratulate us,” She explained bitterly. “Which unfortunately necessitates this ridiculous uniform.”

Arthur nodded solemnly.

“I understand completely. Ceremonial capes are the itchiest damned things in the five kingdoms.”

Lillian snickered and nodded her agreement.

“Did you need something from us?” Merlin asked.

“Just informing you both that we’ll be docking by the end of the day,” Lillian announced. “You can set off for Camelot early after the ceremony or remain on the boat until morning if you like.”

“Thanks, Lillian,” Merlin smiled. “What will you be doing after all of this?”

“I’ll be in charge of taking Mary’s body to her father. Fun little errand, I’m sure,” She laughed mirthlessly. “Then I’m back on the usual delivery runs.”

“A welcome return to routine, I’ll bet.” Arthur said.

“Maybe. I certainly won’t miss the Sirens,” Lillian grinned. “I’ll be leaving, then. Don’t you dare take off without saying goodbye, alright?”

The two men nodded.

Lillian gave Arthur a quick bow before waving and disappearing down the hall. The door creaked shut behind her.

Arthur let out a heavy sigh.

“You can stop being so dramatic, you know,” Merlin teased him. “I’ve already said that I don’t hold anything against you.”

He tossed one of Arthur’s dirty boots at him.

The prince caught it neatly and frowned.

“I’m not dramatic.”

He tossed the boot back.

“You’re being fairly dramatic right now, my lord,” Merlin pointed out.

He threw the boot back at Arthur.

“I am NOT,” Arthur hissed.

“Boys, I forgot to tell you that-“

Lillian stepped into the room and immediately had to duck as Arthur flung the boot at Merlin’s head with reckless abandon.

It sailed over the both his and Lillian’s heads and out into the hallway, landing with a soft thud against the opposite wall.

Arthur blinked.

“Nice reflexes,” He offered.

Lillian didn’t look amused.

“I was just going to say that dinner is in an hour,” She said, clearly fighting to keep her temper in check.

“Thank you!” Merlin said sweetly.

Lillian ran a hand down her face and left, muttering obscenities under her breath.

Merlin and Arthur exchanged a look and fought back a laughing fit.

“We have an extra two days before we’re due to be back,” Arthur mused once they’d recovered. “I’d like to take a little side trip, if it’s alright with you.”

Merlin frowned.

“What type of a side trip?”

“I want to see Aldith’s kingdom. I’ve never actually been into the main city before.”

Merlin smiled.

“I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

Merlin sighed, taking his time with the last sight of the open ocean that he’d see for a long while. The sky was a soft blue, the ocean was calm and glassy, and the sunlight gave a warm glow to everything beneath it. It had been nice for awhile, but Merlin was more than ready to return home. He rested his elbows on the landing and smiled.

So, you’re a sorcerer,” someone remarked, nudging his arm and situating themselves beside him. “That’s new.”

Merlin turned and saw Eleanor, smiling brightly and with a slightly mischievous glint in her eye.

Eleanor wore a yellow dress with matching ribbons in her hair that were woven into her braids. She would’ve looked perfectly picturesque were it not for the jagged and partially healed wound that circled her neck like jewelry.

Merlin winced. Mary hadn’t killed her, but that didn’t mean her blade wasn’t sharp.

“It still hurts,” Eleanor admitted with a frown, correctly guessing where he was looking.

“I could try and heal it, if you like,” Merlin offered. “I can make sure it won’t even leave a scar.”

“No, thanks,” Eleanor said listlessly, bringing a hand up to her neck and smiling sadly. “I want it as a reminder.”

Merlin nodded solemnly. He could understand that much.

“Do you think you’ll ever forgive her?” He asked after a moment, turning his attention over Eleanor’s shoulder. Lillian and Arthur stood chatting nearby, appearing to be in good spirits.

Eleanor sighed, and her eyes fell to the deck.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, a line forming between her eyebrows. “I think it’s too soon to tell.”

She shrugged and leaned over the railing to stare straight down at the water lapping against the side of the ship.

“What she did was horrible,” Eleanor said after a minute or two of silence. “It’s almost flattering, in a strange sort of way; but I keep reminding myself that she could’ve told me everything and she didn’t. She chose not to consider my own thoughts in a conversation about whether I was to live or die, and for that reason I think it’ll be a long time before I can look her in the eyes again.”

Her lips quirked into an empty smile.

“It’s insane, I suppose, but I still love her. It’s just that I love who she was before. Not... this.”

Merlin gave her shoulder a light squeeze of encouragement.

“It’s not insane. Promise.”

Eleanor smiled and gave him a one armed hug.

“I think I’m really going to miss the two of you.”

“Even Arthur?” Merlin scoffed, glancing back at the prince across the deck.

“He did save my life, you know,” Eleanor chuckled, shooting him a teasing grin.

Then, her face fell slightly and her mouth curled into a thoughtful frown.

“He was willing to die for me,” She mused. “He saved my life and I barely know him.”

“That’s just how he is.”

“He’s a good man.”

“When he needs to be.”

Eleanor nudged his arm and gave him a genuinely fond smile.

“Arthur is so lucky to have you. I mean that.”

Merlin blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that at all, and found himself rather caught off guard.

“What?”

Eleanor giggled.

“You care about him so deeply. It’s just... Well, I don’t know. It’s refreshing, I suppose.”

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows and chuckled.

“What the hell are you on about?”

“You two give me hope,” Eleanor shrugged. “I dunno what it is.”

Merlin was completely struck dumb.

“Don’t be a stranger when we get back, alright?” Eleanor said, doing a poor job of concealing her amusement towards Merlin’s silence.

“Of course not,” Merlin agreed, offering her a bright smile. “Perhaps we can visit you again sometime.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Eleanor gave Merlin one last hug before heading off in the direction of the lower deck. Then, as if taking her absence as a cue to fill her spot, Arthur made his way over.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” He said, grinning.

“Can you not think of anything else to start conversations with?” Merlin groaned.

“Well, it IS a beautiful day. Is it a crime to point that out?” Arthur laughed.

Merlin rolled his eyes but allowed himself a smile.

“Ready for the ceremony?” He asked Arthur.

The prince frowned.

“Was I meant to prepare something?”

“No. Fortunately for everyone, I’ve been told Aldith will do the talking.”

Arthur glared but said nothing.

A few hours later, the ship was docked and the crew were lined up in neat rows behind Lillian and Arthur despite his protests.

“It’s just etiquette, my lord, the crew and the servants must be behind-“ Lillian was trying to tell him.

“I don’t care about tradition; I want them to be by my side,” Arthur insisted. “No one was more important on this voyage than another.”

“I know, but Aldith insists on a strict adherence to-.”

“Well, Aldith can-“

“My lord,” Lillian had interjected. “I hardly need remind you that all of us are loyal to our Queen.”

That managed to quiet Arthur down, and he eventually relented.

Merlin grinned at his back. Arthur was becoming even more likable by the day; being out at sea had done wonders for him.

Aldith arrived with three dozen or so knights in light blue uniforms flanking her carriage. It came to a gentle stop before the ship, the white horses drawing it looking nearly as bored as Merlin felt.

Finally, Aldith emerged.

She wore a dazzling midnight blue gown with an ornate silver crown on top of her head. Her dark hair was pulled into a perfect updo, with strands of hair braided into and around the crown itself.

The queen fixed the crew with a bright smile and spoke in a velvety voice.

“Welcome back, my brave friends.”

Lillian, taking that as her cue, stepped forward.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“I am eager to hear your report, Lillian,” Aldith said, carefully folding her hands behind her back. Her dark eyes seemed to narrow slightly.

Lillian cleated her throat.

“Eleven sirens were slain in total. We believe that the problem has been eradicated for many years to come, if not for good.”

“Excellent. I am glad to hear it,” The Queen said silkily. “Were there any fatalities?”

“Just one, Your Majesty.”

“Who?”

“Mary Tait, third child of Lord Henry.”

The Queen smiled, much to everyone’s surprise. Merlin supposed it made sense; Aldith did happen to know that Mary was the daughter of an adulterer.

“That’s simply horrible. Tell me, how did she pass?” Aldith asked with less solemnity and more curiosity in her voice.

Lillian glanced at the ground and coughed.

“A Siren got to her before we could, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, how dreadful. Have arrangements been made to send her home?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you. That will be all.”

Lillian nodded and stepped back to stand beside Arthur.

“And now, the young Pendragon!” Aldith said, a much more genuine smile growing on her face.

Arthur smiled back and bowed.

Lillian gave him a discreet shove when he didn’t step forward.

Aldith’s smile didn’t falter.

“Why, I haven’t seen you since you were a boy!”

“I saw you at the banquet three months ago, Your Majesty,” Arthur said.

The Queen’s eyes became sharp but her smile didn’t change.

“I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“Ah, no,” Arthur laughed, his face the picture of unease.

Lillian groaned beside him.

Merlin snickered quietly.

Aldith’s eyes snapped to Merlin.

“You. Serving boy.”

Merlin froze. This was it, he supposed. He was about to be executed. Perhaps for real this time.

“You defeated the Siren on the first voyage, did you not?” Aldith asked in a silky voice.

Merlin took a step forward and bowed.

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Am I to believe that you had a similar role during this voyage?”

“Merlin felled nearly four Sirens, Your Majesty,” Lillian cut in, grinning proudly.

Four? Merlin thought, casting Lillian a suspicious look. That’s a bit of an exaggeration.

Lillian shrugged.

Aldith brightened up considerably and beamed at Merlin.

“Incredible. You have done a great service for my people and you will be richly rewarded for it.”

“No, I really don’t think that-“

“Nonsense. Anything you want. Name it,” Aldith insisted.

Merlin glanced behind him. The women all looked incredibly proud, their faces were turned towards him as if he were royalty himself and their eyes were shining with glee. Eleanor and Sam were grinning and shooting him thumbs up.

Merlin cleared his throat.

“If it pleases you, Your Majesty, I would like to acknowledge the rest of the crew’s involvement in bringing the Sirens down. None of this would have been possible without each and every member of this crew,” Merlin explained. “And as such, I would like to request that my reward be split amongst all of them.”

Aldith raised an eyebrow.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Consider it done.”

The women behind Merlin burst into cheers. One of the cooks yanked his wrist and pulled him into a group hug. Arthur and Lillian stood by, beaming.

“Now then,” Aldith said when the noise had died down. “I believe that will be all.”

With a few parting words between Lillian and the Queen, the latter was helped back into her carriage and was gone a few moments later.

Merlin was attacked by hugs and well-wishes and tearful goodbyes by people he’d barely said two words to. However, never the type to be rude, he accepted it all sheepishly and returned every goodbye as genuinely as he could manage.

Arthur stood off to the side, smiling fondly and clearly getting a kick out of Merlin’s slightly strained farewells.

“I imagine it’s a good thing that we’re leaving now instead of later,” He grinned, moving to stand beside Merlin and clasping a hand on his shoulder. “Another day of praise like this and you might just realize you’re worth something.”

“We can’t have that, can we?” Merlin replied airily, smiling out at the crowd of excited sailors.

“You deserve their praise, though,” Arthur said in a lowered voice.

“That almost sounded like you’re proud,” Merlin laughed.

“I’ll deny it if anyone asks.”

“Of course.”

At that moment, Lillian, Eleanor, and Sam made their way to the two men and began their respective rounds of goodbyes.

“Thought you could leave without saying goodbye, gentlemen?” Lillian grinned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Merlin assured her.

“Prince Arthur, it’s been an honor.”

Lillian reached out and shook Arthur’s hand.

“The honor has been mine, Captain,” Arthur replied. “I intend to extend credit to everyone on this ship when I return home.”

Lillian nodded. There was an emotion in her eyes that Merlin couldn’t quite place, but after a few more moments of contemplation it became abundantly clear. It was guilt.

“After everything I’ve done, you still wish to extend credit?”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?”

Lillian closed her eyes and nodded again.

“Thank you.”

“Enough of this; it’s my turn!” Eleanor giggled and pulled Merlin into a bone crushing hug.

“I’ll miss you too,” He croaked out.

“You’d better. Make sure to visit every so often, alright?”

“Of course,” Arthur smiled.

Eleanor released Merlin and moved on to give Arthur an equally injuring hug. Despite his efforts to appear as if he was unfazed, Arthur’s eyes popped out and he made a noise that sounded like if a cat had been stepped on very slowly.

When he was freed, he coughed and laughed awkwardly.

“You’re... ah... stronger than you look.”

“I get that a lot,” Eleanor grinned.

Sam approached the two now and put his hands on his hips.

“Well, there’s not much to say, is there?” He chuckled. “It’s been truly horrible. Hope I never see either of you ever again.”

“As do I,” Merlin said, extending his arms for a hug which was eagerly returned.

“We can never repay you for your kindness and service throughout these past two voyages.” Arthur smiled. He gave Samuel a quick hug once he was finished with Merlin’s.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Samuel assured them. “Just invite me to the wedding and we’ll call it even.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. Goodbye, Arthur. It’s been a pleasure to know you.”

Samuel gave him one last bow.

“The pleasure has been mine,” Arthur said, and bowed in return.

Samuel’s face lit up with shock, then disbelief, then happiness. He gave Merlin a quick smile before heading off and joining the crowd.

Lilian and Eleanor gave them both a small wave and followed his lead.

Merlin sighed.

“I’m going to miss them all.”

Arthur looked at him sideways and smiled sadly.

“Me too.”

After a moment, Arthur cleared his throat and spoke again.

“It was almost pleasant to be treated like a normal person for a few days.”

“What?”

“The crew. I wasn’t their prince or their superior. I was just a man.”

Arthur shrugged.

“I don’t know. It’s tiring when everyone treats you as if you’re above them all the time.”

“I don’t treat you like that,” Merlin pointed out.

Arthur grinned and punched him in the arm. Merlin winced in pain and was met with an eye roll.

“That’s why I keep you around.”

“And here I thought it was for my extraordinary cleaning ability!” Merlin exclaimed with mock offense.

“Your cleaning ability IS extraordinary,” Arthur admitted. “Extraordinarily bad.”

He glanced around and gave Merlin a light shove toward the horses that had been prepared for their journey back.

“Let’s go, then. We’ve got a whole kingdom to see and just 2 days to do it.”

Chapter Text

The road to Aldith’s inner city was one of the most pleasant trips Merlin could remember taking in quite a long time. The terrain, although rocky and quite dry, seemed to be home to a large variety of wildlife. Little rodents and birds seemed to appear and disappear out of the corner of one’s eye, only occasionally staying long enough for Merlin to get a proper view. He had long since decided that the little brown rabbits were his favorite; catching a glimpse of them always brought a smile to his face.

It had been an hour or two since anyone had spoken but the silence was comfortable; neither party felt especially inclined to break it. Arthur’s eyes were glued to the sky above and Merlin’s to the ground below, evidence enough that the two were completely at ease.

Arthur had elected to change clothes at the first opportunity; his vision of an anonymous vacation could hardly be realized if he strutted into town with a crimson cloak bearing the Pendragon crest.

They’d stopped at one of the few patches of greenery on the trek; Arthur disappeared into the foliage to change while Merlin leaned against a tree and cooed to the horses softly. Merlin would have stopped to consider how revolutionary it was that Arthur had insisted on dressing himself but scarcely had time before the prince decided he needed help after all and sheepishly emerged with the ties to his tunic knotted in fifty different ways, none of which seemed possible. Merlin closed his eyes and sighed, half with exasperation and half with fondness. He really should’ve seen this coming.

“I look ridiculous.”

“You look like a peasant.”

Arthur groaned and yanked at the light blue tunic he’d selected for the trip.

“It’s itchy.”

“You get used to it eventually.”

Merlin grinned and tried to imagine what he would think if he didn’t know Arthur and had just seen him dressed like this. What would his reaction be?

He found it was quite difficult to imagine not knowing Arthur and thus abandoned his efforts immediately.

Besides, the disguise was fine. No one in Aldith’s land would be familiar enough with Arthur’s face to point him out in a crowd.

At least that was the hope. There was always the possibility of a traveler or particularly keen citizen figuring it out, but even then the only threat was a ruined vacation.

At one point while they were riding in silence through a thin patch of forest, Arthur cleared his throat as if he had something to say.

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Arthur began, not turning to look at him.

Merlin’s heart skipped a beat for reasons he didn’t care to think too hard about.

“It’s just that I’ve known about your magic for a few days now,” Arthur continued, finally tearing his eyes away from the cloudless sky and fixing Merlin with a lopsided grin. “I haven’t actually gotten to see you use it yet.”

Merlin released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Right, sorry,” He laughed nervously. “I didn’t think you would want to.”

Arthur gave him a hollow smile and shrugged.

“I know my reaction wasn’t the best at first.”

He glanced at the ground and back up quickly.

“It hasn’t quite sunk in yet, if I’m being honest. But I want you to know that I’m not going to change my mind. About turning you in, I mean. You don’t have to hide from me anymore.”

Merlin let out a startled chuckle. Such displays of thoughtfulness from Arthur were becoming more and more frequent as the days went on, and Merlin was incredibly pleased with the way this particular pattern was heading.

“Thank you,” He said quietly, fearing what his voice would do if he allowed himself any more words.

Arthur shrugged, his eyes registering an emotion that Merlin couldn’t quite place. His lips curled into something like a grimace that then turned into a grin.

“I suppose I’d rather like to see if you’re as useless a sorcerer as you are a servant,” He quipped.

Merlin considered calling Kilgharrah just to watch him squirm but ultimately decided against it.

“Alright, then. What would you like to see?” He asked airily.

Arthur scrunched up his face and glanced around, thinking hard.

“Can you make one of the stones on the path float?”

“All that thinking and a floating rock is the best you’ve got?” Merlin scoffed.

“Shut up.”

“You wouldn’t prefer something flashier?”

“I’m not in it for the presentation,” Arthur admitted with a note of defensiveness in his tone.

Merlin nodded. He rather regretted teasing Arthur now.

He checked to ensure the prince was looking before extending his hand towards the path ahead. All for theatrics, really, as a rock didn’t exactly require much focus to move.

With a flash of gold and a small gasp from Arthur, a sandy colored stone lifted off of the ground and began to hover, swaying in front of the horses as if leading them. He held it aloft for a moment and made it do a little dance in midair.

Merlin relaxed his focus and allowed the rock to fall. He glanced back at Arthur and found his mouth agape and his eyebrows furrowed in a strange mixture of shock and confusion.

“Not up to your standards, was it?” Merlin quipped nervously.

Arthur took a second to answer, his expression swaying between awe and something resembling fear.

“I didn’t know about the eyes,” He muttered.

“What?”

“Your eyes went yellow.” Arthur pointed out. He was speaking slowly and deliberately, and it was making Merlin nervous.

“That happens with all magic,” Merlin explained sheepishly. “Surely you knew that.”

“It’s different with you,” Arthur said, giving his head a shake and tightening his grip on the reigns. “It’s strange to see you with those eyes.”

“I’m still me,” Merlin offered, giving him a lopsided smile.

“Thank God.” Arthur breathed.

Merlin let out a short laugh, pleasantly shocked by the prince’s response.

Arthur’s expression read as confused for a moment before his eyebrows shot up and he realized what he’d said.

“Shut up.”

“I haven’t spoken.”

“Carry on like that and I’ll make sure you can never speak again.”

“Your compassion truly knows no bounds, my lord.”

They reached the inner city by midday and left their horses tied up outside of a tavern.

“We’ll come back here at the end of the day and have a drink before we head home,” Arthur said cheerfully, in a far better mood than before.

Merlin was hardly listening; he was too busy taking in the sight of Aldith’s inner city. Made entirely from stone and bearing an overwhelming dark grey color as a result, the city was impressive to behold but depressing to imagine living in. There were no plants, no flags, and the stone seemed to absorb light and give the entire place a dull look. The only splashes of color came from the clothes of the people meandering about and the stray cats that occasionally darted between the houses.

Arthur, having noticed Merlin’s lack of attention, groaned and cuffed him over the head.

“Don’t mind me, Merlin. I was talking to myself, no need to listen,” He drawled.

“You know, if you’re trying to blend in you’re not doing very well,” Merlin pointed out. “You do realize that acting naturally also involves not treating me like a servant, right?”

“I’m not treating you like a servant. I’m treating you like a prat.” Arthur insisted.

Merlin had no time to think of a witty retort, as a man came stumbling out of the tavern and ran directly into Arthur.

Arthur quickly raised his hands and stepped aside, letting the man fall.

The man landed in a crumpled pile on the ground and scowled.

“A good afternoon to you, too,” He groaned, rubbing his hip and wincing.

The man was a cruel thing, with sharp cheekbones and sunken in eyes that seemed vaguely dissatisfied with everything they beheld. His hair was cut close to his head, evidently having been hacked off at several different lengths.

The man’s unfocused eyes suddenly turned sharp as he squinted up at Arthur. A realization dawned in his eyes and a grin began to creep across his lips.

“Well, well, well,” He chuckled, slowly clambering to his feet. “What do we have here?”

“What are you talking about?” Arthur demanded. He stepped between Merlin and the drunk man.

“You mean you don’t remember me? We met in this very tavern a month or two ago,” The man insisted.

Merlin frowned. He did look familiar.

Arthur was getting frustrated.

“I’ve never been to the city before; the only time I’ve even set foot within these walls was to-!”

“Find Francis Bennet, yeah? Ask him a question or two?” The man spat, grinning wickedly.

Arthur paled, suddenly recognizing the man.

“You told us where to find him.”

“‘Course I did,” The man shrugged. “Name’s Thomas.”

Thomas extended a grimy hand to Arthur. Merlin, reading Arthur’s disgusted expression, stepped in and accepted his hand to avoid any further embarrassment.

“I’m Merlin. That’s Samuel.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy,” Thomas tutted. “I’ve already figured out who your friend is.”

“What?” Merlin asked, trying to seem innocent.

“Wasn’t difficult. Anyone could tell he wasn’t from around here the moment he walked in,” The man chuckled.

“What the Hell does that mean?” Arthur demanded, bursting with indignation.

“You walk like you think you’re better than everyone, boy,” Thomas insisted. “That, and I asked Allard.”

“And what did he tell you?” Merlin asked uneasily.

“He told me Prince Arthur came to visit him. Didn’t take much thinking to figure out that you’re the one he meant.” Thomas shrugged.

Then, he frowned, fixing Arthur with a strange look.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, shooting Merlin several angry looks that were clearly meant more for Thomas.

“Why did you boys want to see Francis?” The man continued, suspicion creeping into his voice.

“What do you care?” Arthur spat.

“I’m a curious man, my lord. That, and there’s usually only two reasons outsiders ask for Francis.”

“And what might those reasons be?” Merlin cut in.

Thomas glanced around with a grim expression and waited for the street to be a little more empty before continuing.

“They either want to cause trouble or they want to ask about Francis’s Siren encounter,” Thomas explained. “I only told you where he lived because you didn’t look to be the house-burning type.”

“House burning?” Arthur asked, forgetting his irritation immediately.

“Two years ago a group of men burnt Francis and Allard’s house down,” Thomas said quietly, his eyes darkening with sorrow. “No one was hurt, but we could all see the intent was to kill. The villagers helped to rebuild it; they understand the damage fires can do out there where all the houses are wooden.”

“That’s horrible,” Merlin breathed.

“Damn right.” Thomas spat.

“Why are you telling us this?” Arthur asked, shooting Merlin a nervous glance.

“Francis and Allard speak very highly of you, my lord,” Thomas began airily. “That means you weren’t there for reason number one. Which means, of course, you were there for reason number two.”

Merlin noticed Arthur’s jaw clench and his eyes narrow.

“And while I know that perhaps you might just be the curious type, or perhaps you wanted to account for any and all circumstances before encountering a Siren,” Thomas continued with a sardonic smile. “I happen to know that your visit came after the first attempt to rid our waters of those damned things. Therefore, it isn’t much of a leap to say you had an experience exactly like Francis and wanted answers.”

Merlin let out a slightly impressed breath despite himself.

Arthur was fuming.

“No one cares around here, my lord,” Thomas addressed Arthur, the prince’s nearly tangible rage not seeming to faze him. “Francis and Allard are friends to us all.”

Arthur took a deep breath and relaxed slightly, though his jaw was still set and his fists still clenched.

“Where are Francis and Allard now?” He asked in a low voice.

Merlin turned to Arthur, eyebrows rocketing up in surprise. Francis and Allard hadn’t been discussed prior to the trip, and yet Arthur was acting as if he’d planned to visit them all along.

Thomas snickered at Merlin’s face and answered in an oily voice.

“Still at their house.”

“Come on, Merlin.” Arthur said, immediately turning to untie his horse.

“What? You never mentioned anything about this!” Merlin protested.

“Contrary to what you may think, I don’t have to run all of my plans by you first,” Arthur said harshly. Then, as if realizing how he sounded, he closed his eyes and sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

Merlin nodded, trying his best to disguise the fact that his feelings were still hurt.

Thomas chuckled slightly and sighed.

“Well, you boys have fun.”

He turned and began walking away down the street, stumbling slightly on the uneven stone.

“Thank you, Thomas,” Arthur called after him.

The man raised a hand lazily in response, not bothering to look back.

Chapter Text

“Go knock.”

“Can I get a ‘please’?”

“You can get a week in the stocks.”

“Alright then, no need to be so rude,” Merlin muttered, approaching the door with his hand raised to knock. Arthur had been in a foul mood since meeting Thomas and had yet to explain himself. Of course, his feelings were his own business, Merlin reminded himself. Arthur was entitled to his privacy no matter how irritating he was.

Merlin found that it helped quite a bit to simply tell himself that Arthur would open up to him eventually. Even if it turned out that Arthur was intent on keeping his secrets for the rest of his life, the lie would still certainly be easier to digest than the alternative.

Suddenly, Arthur coughed.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, not looking up.

Merlin nodded in response. At this rate, he would take what he could get. At the very least Arthur was acknowledging his behavior.

“Thanks.”

Merlin rapped the door with the back of his knuckles and stepped back to wait for an answer. Arthur took a few steps forward and came to an uneasy halt by his side, shifting his weight between his two feet and looking rather nervous. The prince seemed as if he was expecting to be attacked at any moment. Merlin wondered what he even intended for this trip to be; any fool could tell that it wasn’t just a friendly visit.

Eventually, the door eased open and revealed a much cleaner and more put together Allard than the man they’d met all those months ago; he clearly had been at home for a while and was not dressed in work clothes.

Perhaps it was the lack of grime, the clean shaven face, or the genuine glee that lit up Allard’s warm brown eyes when he opened the door, but Merlin suddenly understood at least part of what had drawn Francis to this man in the first place.

Merlin blinked, taken aback.

The realization that it was rude to stare (as well as a quick elbow in the ribs from Arthur,) brought him back to his senses, and he smiled.

“Hi, Allard!”

“Merlin and Samuel as I live and breathe,” Allard chuckled, flashing them a toothy grin and winking at Arthur. “Please, come on in.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said, an incredibly strained smile on his face that Allard either didn’t notice or was sensible enough to ignore. The prince’s words invoked cordiality, but his demeanor was tense and carefully guarded.

Merlin offered Allard an apologetic smile and was met with a dismissive wave of the man’s hand.

“I must confess I didn’t expect to see you two so soon,” Allard said, standing aside to usher the other two men into the house. “That is, if you ever actually intended to make good on your promise to visit.”

The house was especially bright this afternoon, with every window open and uncovered and a fire roaring merrily at the far end of the room. Pots and pans were littered around the fireplace and filled with an assortment of herbs and bits of meat, and the house smelled faintly of smoke.

“Francis is trying to cook,” Allard explained with a hint of fondness in his voice. “He never quite learned how, bless him. I’m usually the one who takes care of that sort of thing.”

Merlin chuckled.

“I know how you feel.”

Arthur scrunched his face up with offense but didn’t say anything, evidence enough that he knew it was true.

“I’m sure you do,” Allard remarked with a poorly concealed smile playing at his lips, stooping down to collect a stack of discarded pots filled with increasingly burnt and unrecognizable bits of food.

“Oh, dear,” A voice grumbled faintly from the other room. “Can’t ever find my bloody-!”

Francis, for of course it was Francis, sounded very distressed.

“Allard, darling, have you seen my-?” Francis suddenly appeared in the doorway and finally looked up, taking a second to process the guests.

“Oh!” He exclaimed excitedly. “Hello again!”

Francis looked more or less the same as the last time they’d seen him, with the exception being that his curly black hair was no longer tied back and fell freely about his shoulders in crisp waves.

Merlin glanced over and noticed Allard absolutely beaming at Francis, eyes filled to the brim with quiet love.

What did one have to do, Merlin wondered vaguely, to be looked at like that? The lives of these two men seemed to be so effortlessly intertwined, so harmonious and genuinely happy, that it almost seemed like a fairytale. How could anything so pure exist in a world such as the one they currently lived in? When hatred and distrust ruled the land, these men had found love and community.

How had they done it?

Francis crossed over to stand beside Allard and offered the guests a small wave.

Arthur smiled half heartedly in greeting.

He glanced over at Merlin and they locked eyes.

Without any words exchanged, Merlin knew that Arthur was thinking the exact same thing.

“How are things, Francis?” Merlin asked politely, tearing his eyes from Arthur’s.

“Oh, they’re just lovely! Except that I can’t find my ring.” Francis huffed.

“Which ring?” Allard chimed in.

“Wedding ring.”

“Have you checked your finger?” Allard asked patiently.

Francis scoffed and extended a hand to demonstrate that the ring wasn’t there.

The trouble was, the ring WAS there.

Allard snickered and was met with a light slap on the arm.

“Now you’ve gone and embarrassed me in front of our guests!” Francis huffed.

“It’s quite alright, Francis,” Arthur assured him. “You can ask Merlin, I’m always losing things.”

“It’s true,” Merlin chimed in.

Despite having asked for his input, Arthur still looked slightly irritated at having received it.

Francis and Allard looked as though they were trying very hard not to laugh.

“So,” Allard began after he had collected himself. “What brings you two here?”

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Arthur admitted. “Of Francis, actually.”

Francis tilted his head and smiled hesitantly.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to speak to Francis,” Arthur admitted. Then, shooting a glance at Allard and Merlin. “Alone.”

Allard and Merlin gave each other a similarly offended look.

“Er, alright,” Francis said. “Only if Allard and Merlin are okay with it.”

Allard shrugged.

“I need to run to the market anyways. Merlin can tag along if he likes.”

“Sure,” Merlin said, casting a hurt look at Arthur.

Arthur gave him a quick glance that might have been his attempt at an apology but Merlin could never be sure.

“I guess we’ll be going, then.”

Allard retrieved a small cloth bag from a hook by the door, planted a swift kiss on Francis’s cheek, and held the door open for Merlin to exit first.

Merlin gave Francis and Arthur a wave and stepped outside.

“Is he always like this?” Allard asked with a slight chuckle as he joined him outside and eased the door shut behind him.

They began to make their way down the hill, Allard leading the way and Merlin trailing behind.

“Is he always like what?”

Allard thought for a moment.

“Tense.”

“Not always.” Merlin sighed and brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the midday sun.

Then, as an afterthought.

“He’s been like this more and more recently.”

“Francis was the same way at one point,” Allard remarked, nodding solemnly.

Merlin perked up and nearly stopped walking.

“He was?”

“Oh, of course. Back when he first got back from that Siren trip,” Allard said airily. “I imagine he went through exactly what Arthur is going through right now.”

Merlin frowned.

“And what is that?”

Allard shot him an amused glance and laughed as if it were obvious.

“It’s a strange thing to learn for the first time. I was lucky enough to figure it out slowly on my own terms. Francis was forced to confront it before he was ready, and I imagine Arthur wasn’t either.”

“I’d have to agree,” Merlin admitted quietly.

They passed a row of fences at the bottom of the hill separating a little vegetable garden by type of plant. An old man was crouched near a line of carrots, carefully lifting each one out of the soil and setting them into a large basket that was already almost full.

“Evening, James!” Allard called as they passed.

The old man smiled brightly and waved.

Merlin nodded in his direction in case he was also waving to him.

“How did you two meet?” Merlin blurted out.

Allard took a deep breath and snorted.

“You’re going to hate this one.”

“What?”

“I worked for his father.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. Francis’s old man was wealthy and needed an extra hand to tend to the livestock, I was young and needed a job,” He said airily. “I think it was meant to be, if you can believe in that sort of thing.”

“I think I do believe in it.”

Allard smiled.

“That’s good. Never stop.”

The pair had reached the road by now, and the main village was finally in view. About two dozen little buildings were peppered around the field with little stone paths going every which way. In the center of the cluster were two or three wooden stalls, behind which a few lively looking old men stood waiting for business.

“That’s the market?”

“Yes,” Allard nodded. “One man sells meat, the other vegetables, and the third sells thread and cloth and that sort of thing. It’s all we seem to need down here.”

“What are you looking to get, anyways?” Merlin asked.

Allard snickered.

“Nothing. I might just pick up some potatoes or something.”

Merlin stopped in his tracks.

“You didn’t actually have to leave?”

Allard shifted the bag to his other shoulder, his cheerful demeanor fading slightly.

“Look, Arthur seemed like he really needed to hear something from Francis specifically,” Allard admitted. “They do have a lot in common, after all.”

Merlin frowned.

“Like what?”

“They both grew up wealthy, they both experienced the Siren song firsthand,” Allard said listlessly. Then, with a sly grin.

“They both fell hopelessly in love with someone who worked for them.”

Merlin choked on his own surprise, sending Allard into a laughing fit.

“Really, it’s as if you’re trying to ignore it,” Allard chuckled.

“It’s not possible,” Merlin muttered.

“My word, Merlin. I wish you could see the way he looks at you sometimes,” Allard remarked.

At this, Merlin froze.

“What did you just say?”

Allard furrowed his eyebrows and laughed nervously.

“I said that I wish you could see the way Arthur looks at you.”

Samuel’s words shot back into Merlin’s head all at once.

“If only you could see the way he looks at you,” Samuel had said. “The word ‘impossible’ would never leave your mouth again.”

Merlin suddenly felt slightly dizzy, causing Allard’s eyes to widen in alarm.

“Are you alright?” Allard asked quickly, holding out a hand to help steady him.

“I’m fine, just,” Merlin put a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re not the first person to say that to me.”

Allard nodded solemnly.

“That can’t be a coincidence, Merlin.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you believe in things being meant to be. Perhaps this is just another one of those things,” Allard smiled gently.

Merlin sighed heavily and looked back up into Allard’s eyes.

“It isn’t safe for him.”

“It isn’t the safest time for any of us, is it?”

“S’pose not.”

“I reckon Arthur understands that better than anyone, his father being who he is.” Allard said quietly.

After a moment, he placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and began again, his voice resonating with emotion.

“Make sure to take care of him. He’ll need it.”

“You speak from experience.”

“I do.”

The two men began walking once more with nothing but the soft thud of boots on the rocky ground to break the silence.

After a few more minutes, Merlin spoke again. His voice was quieter than he had intended it to be.

“How does he look at me?”

Allard squinted at the sun, deep in thought. He sighed.

“Like you’re the only thing worth looking at.”

Chapter Text

Arthur had been crying. That much was obvious. Immediately, Merlin felt protective, wondering if something Francis had said was the reason for the prince’s distress. That feeling faded immediately when he noticed that Francis had been crying as well. Merlin looked to Arthur wildly, trying to understand. In sharp contrast to Arthur’s puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks was the soft smile that he gave Merlin, filled to the brim with the most serenity and genuine happiness that he’d displayed in years. Merlin was rendered completely speechless. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

Allard spared Merlin any further embarrassment by speaking first.

“I trust your conversation was productive?” He asked, offering the two men a slightly hesitant smile.

“Yes, actually,” Arthur said, shaking his head slightly. “It helped a great deal.”

“I’m glad,” Francis replied, giving the prince a very fatherly look.

Exchanging a glance, Merlin and Allard nonverbally agreed that this was not the time to ask questions.

“It’s late,” Arthur announced suddenly. He rose to his feet and raised his eyebrows at Merlin.

“I’m ready,” Merlin replied, inferring the meaning behind the look.

“You’ve only just got here.” Allard frowned. “Are you sure you can’t stay for the night? We’d be happy to have you.”

Francis nodded enthusiastically.

“You’re always welcome here, boys.”

“Thank you for your kindness, but we have a banquet back home to attend tomorrow evening.” Arthur got up and made to shake Francis’s hand but was instead pulled into a hug. He didn’t bother struggling, and instead let himself be crushed with a patient smile on his face.

Allard snickered and joined in the hug from the other side, yanking Merlin into it as well.

“Take care of yourselves, alright?” Francis said, voice muffled by both Allard’s arms and Arthur’s shoulder.

With a slightly shorter goodbye than Merlin would’ve liked and a promise to see each other again, Merlin and Arthur made their way back into town and retrieved their horses. They began to ride for Camelot immediately.

For nearly the entire trip, Merlin kept stealing sideways glances at the prince as they rode, attempting to read something in his expression that would give away what he’d discussed with Francis. Whatever he said had clearly done wonders for Arthur, and Merlin found himself desperately wanting to be clued in for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp yet. Arthur seemed to be in a strangely relaxed mood; his eyes were raised to the sky and his mouth was curled into a slight smile in its neutral position. The silence was comfortable, so Merlin felt no need to try and talk just yet. And, he thought to himself, it was rather a nice thing when Arthur could finally shut up for once.

Eventually, Arthur was the one to break the silence. He leaned over in his saddle and nudged Merlin’s arm, startling him from his thoughts.

“We’ll have to set up camp for tonight,” He said, and glanced over at Merlin with a grin. “Which, of course, means that YOU have to set up camp for tonight.”

“Watch it,” Merlin warned. “I’ll put your bedroll over an anthill.”

“Does that count as treason?”

“I can always threaten you properly if you’d like better cause to imprison me.”

Arthur snickered and sighed over-dramatically.

“How will I ever be king if I can’t even keep my own servant in line?”

“I believe you’ll be a much better king BECAUSE you can’t keep me in line,” Merlin challenged, keeping his expression neutral.

“Is that so?” Arthur asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Oh, yes,” Merlin said earnestly. “You need someone who isn’t scared to remind you of important things.”

Arthur scoffed.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that you’re a prat,” Merlin replied innocently.

He looked over at Arthur, fully expecting a roll of the eyes or a glare, but instead found a truly warm and radiant smile gracing the prince’s face. Merlin thought he might fall off of his horse.

Was this what Allard and Sam had meant?

Was it possible that Arthur only ever smiled at him like this?

Did he ever look at Arthur like that?

Merlin chanced a glance at him. Backlit against the setting sun and smiling softly to himself with the air of one who was truly at peace, it was hard to imagine that Merlin’s face looked any different than Arthur’s alleged endearing glances.

Perhaps he did look at Arthur the same way.

He was beautiful, objectively speaking. Frankly, it was hard not to stare sometimes. It also became strangely irritating at times; here was a man born into privilege and royalty and the destiny of a hero, and he had still won the genetic lottery on top of it all. It was just the slightest bit unfair.

However, whenever Arthur’s lopsided smile and melodic laugh were directed at Merlin, he found that he didn’t really care.

The thought that Arthur may think the same of him suddenly sunk in.

He nearly fell off of his horse again.

The thought was jarring but not unpleasant, Merlin decided.

Arthur shot him a sideways glance and laughed but mercifully didn’t tease him any further.

Definitely not unpleasant.

Merlin frowned to himself. Everything was confusing at the moment, but there would certainly be time for introspection once they returned to Camelot and all of the Siren excitement finally died down. This wasn’t the time for reflection.

Merlin glanced back up and noticed that not only had the smile lingered on Arthur’s face, but it had faded to something more resembling a smirk.

Merlin’s stomach did several flips.

Perhaps, he mused, this was not something he could ignore for much longer.

However, that certainly wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

°°°

When Merlin had finished setting up camp in a place that was unfortunately free of anthills, he set about making a fire while Arthur leaned against a log and relaxed. Doing absolutely nothing to help seemed to have taken its toll. Poor thing, Merlin thought bitterly. Night was falling around them, silencing the birds and coaxing the moon to cast a soft blue glow over everything.

Arthur had his eyes closed as if asleep, his arms crossed behind his head and his sword stabbed upright into the dirt a few feet away. Everything smelled vaguely of rain. Merlin found himself grateful to be back within a more familiar terrain; the dry and rocky land in Aldith’s kingdom didn’t always sit right with him. Here, he felt at home.

“What on earth are you doing?”

Arthur was sitting upright now, fixing Merlin with an expression that was halfway between curiosity and derision.

Merlin blinked.

“It’s called a ‘fire,’” He replied. “I assumed you were familiar with them.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes but ignored the sarcasm.

“Why are you doing it like that?” He asked, gesturing to the flint Merlin was using.

“Like what?”

“You have magic, don’t you?”

“Oh.” Merlin laughed nervously and shrugged. “I’m not used to using it around you yet, I s’pose.”

Arthur frowned and sat up a little straighter. He cleared his throat.

“If I’ve done anything to make you still feel unsafe around me, I just want to say that-“

“No, no, stop that. It’s alright; it was just a habit,” Merlin cut him off. “No need to apologize.”

“Right. Thank you.” Arthur nodded. Then, shooting a glance at the pile of firewood, he grinned.

“Not to pressure you, but some magic would really speed things up. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“Such manners! I never knew you had it in you.”

“That’s because my manners are reserved for people who deserve them,” Arthur replied airily. “Now, how about a fire?”

Merlin nodded and turned his back on Arthur, causing the prince to frown and nudge his shoulder.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m turning away,” Merlin answered. “You didn’t seem to like the eye bit last time.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

“I’ll get over it. It’s something I’ll have to get used to eventually; we may as well start now.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Merlin nodded uneasily and extended his hand towards the firewood. Concentrating and saying a silent prayer that Arthur wouldn’t recoil like the last time, he whispered a spell. The fire roared to life at once, replacing the blue glow with a bright orange light that brought the forest into a state of extremes; enhancing the shadows and exaggerating the lit areas ten times over until everything was either entirely visible or seemingly nonexistent. Merlin glanced back over at Arthur.

Much to his relief, he was smiling.

“That’s certainly a better reaction,” Merlin remarked. “What changed?”

Arthur shrugged and smiled even wider.

“My perspective.”

“Oh? And how’d you manage that?” Merlin pried, coming to sit beside him against the log.

“I was associating those eyes and that color with enemies,” Arthur explained, squinting thoughtfully into the fire. “But it helped a great deal to think of other things they remind me of instead.”

Merlin chuckled nervously.

“Like what?”

“The sun, gold, leaves in autumn, sunflowers,” Arthur shrugged and looked back up at Merlin with a small smile. “Nice things like that.”

“Did you just... compliment my eyes?” Merlin asked, both to tease and to clarify.

Arthur’s eyes widened minutely, or perhaps it was Merlin’s imagination, but either way the comment sent Arthur’s gaze directly to the floor.

“Absolutely not. It was an observation,” He insisted.

“Ah. So you were only observing how pretty my eyes are, then?”

“Yes.” Arthur agreed.

Then, realizing what he’d actually said.

“No.”

Then, when Merlin didn’t stop grinning.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I don’t believe I need to; since you seem quite keen on doing that yourself.” Merlin replied coolly.

“Shut up.”

Merlin snickered and considered dropping the subject.

That train of thought, however, was short lived.

“I never took you for a romantic.”

“And I never took you for someone with a death wish,” Arthur hissed. “Yet here we are.”

Merlin, in an uncharacteristic bout of mercy, finally decided to ease up. Arthur had been teased enough for one night.

“How did you figure that out? The trick with associating the color with other things, I mean.”

“Francis helped me,” Arthur said, shrugging.

“Is that what you talked about?”

“Partly. I didn’t tell him your secret, though.”

“Thank you.”

Arthur nodded in response. He lifted his sword from the dirt and held it in front of him, twirling it from hand to hand.

“Funny thing about Francis,” He said absentmindedly. “He seemed to know more about me than I even knew about myself.”

“He’s a lot like you,” Merlin said knowingly.

Arthur let out a short laugh.

“Really?”

“Allard and I talked about you two on our walk,” Merlin explained. “Apparently you’re very similar people.”

Arthur sighed deeply and tossed his sword aside.

“I hope I get to be as happy as him someday, at any rate.”

He winced once the words had left his mouth; it was as if putting those particular thoughts to words had physically hurt him.

“I know you will,” Merlin said immediately. Arthur looked at him sideways, a hesitant smile blooming on his face.

“You seem very sure of yourself,” He remarked softly.

“I am.”

“And why is that?”

“Maybe I know something you don’t.”

Arthur laughed.

“And what might that be?”

Merlin shrugged and turned his gaze to the fire.

“You’re Arthur.”

“Glad to know we’re on a first name basis,” Arthur scoffed.

“You’re Arthur,” Merlin continued, ignoring him. “And you deserve every bit of adoration and respect that you receive, even when you don’t feel like you do. Things will always work out for you because you will always fight to ensure that it does.”

Arthur’s eyes were misty with an indeterminate emotion when Merlin turned back to look at him. He coughed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, shooting Merlin a look that very plainly said “If you tell anyone about this, you’re done for.”

“I didn’t realize you thought so highly of me,” Arthur finally said after taking a few moments to collect himself.

“Oh, that’s what your people think of you,” Merlin replied airily. “But to me you’ll always be the same Arthur who whines like a child when his stew is too hot.”

“That was one time,” Arthur muttered.

“If I were to be as easily swayed as your people, though,” Merlin began quietly, shooting Arthur a fond smile. “I’d say that you were the bravest man I’ve ever met. I’d say that I have the utmost faith in you and that I’m proud to call you my friend. I might also say something truly pitiful, like how proud I am of you and how far you’ve come. Or, God forbid, I might mention how much better off I am for having known you.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Arthur chuckled softly.

“Of course not.”

“I suppose I should count myself lucky, then?”

“Naturally.”

Arthur nodded and smiled one of his genuinely peaceful smiles. He turned his attention back to the fire.

“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur said quietly. “That meant a lot.”

“Careful,” Merlin warned. “Carry on like that and I might call your eyes pretty.”

“I hate you.”

“And a good night to you too, Sire.”

Chapter Text

“My father is going to kill me,” Arthur remarked, bringing his horse to a gentle stop and hopping off in one smooth motion. He let go of the reins early but the horse trotted into its pen dutifully without guidance.

“Why?” Merlin asked. He stepped down off of his own horse and narrowly avoided being bit when he went to grab ahold of her reins. With some effort, he managed to wrestle her back into her pen, dodging kicks and bites at every turn. Merlin’s horse had developed the intent to kill on the way home for some reason.

“He expected us hours ago.”

“Just say that we got lost,” Merlin suggested.

“Sometimes, Merlin, it is quite painfully obvious that you have never once had a proper conversation with my father in your life.” Arthur scoffed.

“I shall count myself lucky, then.”

Arthur reared on him with murder in his eyes but didn’t even have time to be properly offended before Merlin spoke again, his eyes trained on a point further within the citadel.

“Is that Gwen?”

Arthur turned his head slightly and squinted towards where Merlin was looking. Gwen was sprinting toward the duo with her skirt bunched up in her left hand and a cloak trailing from her right. It was billowing out behind her like a cape as she went; she had either taken it off due to the heat or she hadn’t had a chance to put it on in the first place.

“Gwen-?” Merlin tried to ask but was cut off by a wave of Gwen’s hand as she came to a screeching halt and paused, breathing heavily and resting her hands on her knees.

“Morgana.” She managed to gasp out.

Merlin froze.

“Has something happened?”

“No. Well, yes. Not yet? She’s had one of her dreams again,” Gwen explained.

Arthur chuckled in response, coming dangerously close to rolling his eyes.

“Had another nightmare, has she?”

“She said she saw something to do with you and poison.” Gwen continued, casting Merlin an odd look which he made a point to not respond to. “There was a bit about a woman named Eleanor as well.”

Arthur was suddenly sent into a coughing fit out of shock while Merlin just groaned.

“Eleanor is coming to the banquet, isn’t she?” Merlin asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

Arthur nodded, still choking.

Gwen raised her eyebrows and smiled in a very polite but very concerned manner.

“I take it that name means something to you?”

“Long story. Perhaps we ought to tell you on the way to Morgana?” Merlin suggested.

°°°

“Oh, dear. That’s certainly a lot to process.”

“It was quite the ordeal.”

The three were half jogging and half walking towards Morgana’s chambers, with both Arthur and Merlin being unsure how urgent the situation was and trying to take hints from Gwen as to how fast they should go. She kept a steadily brisk pace that somehow proved impossible to match, leaving the men to slow down and speed up intermittently to keep up with her.

Gwen’s footsteps were nearly silent, as were Arthur’s. Merlin’s were not; he sounded as if he was stomping down the hallway, the stone sending echoes bouncing off of every surface. Silence was rather important at the moment, as it was imperative that they reach Morgana’s chambers before Uther could whisk Arthur away for banquet preparations. Merlin could be quiet when he was able to go slowly, but at this inconsistent pace it was proving impossible to muffle his steps even the slightest bit. He found himself slightly annoyed at this. Arthur’s silence irritated him more than Gwen’s, for at least Gwen was in light shoes and swishy clothing that was not at all noisy. Arthur, however, was still in a full suit of armor. Metal against metal and stiff boots and a sword strapped to his hip, and yet not a single sound to be heard.

Absolutely unfair, Merlin thought bitterly. Years of training be damned; that should be impossible.

Merlin had been carefully explaining things to Gwen in a way that left out both his and Arthur’s immunity to the Siren song, Lillian’s Druid identity, and the fact that Merlin was the one to save Arthur from the venom using magic. However, when Merlin finally approached the part where he would explain his masterfully constructed lie about how Arthur was all but immune to venom due to being poisoned nearly every other week and developing a tolerance to it, Gwen interrupted.

“I assume you managed to heal him, then?”

Arthur choked on air again, leaving Merlin on his own to backpedal wildly.

“What? Yes? I mean, no. I mean... what?” Merlin spluttered. He laughed nervously to try and cover his surprise as eloquently as possible, but he could read in Gwen’s cocked eyebrow and hesitant smile that she didn’t buy that for a second.

Gwen chuckled.

“I only meant that I’m sure you or the physician got to Arthur in time. You’re Gaius’s apprentice; surely you must’ve picked up a thing or two.”

Arthur regained his composure somewhat and laughed a little too loud and for a little too long.

Merlin elbowed him sharply in the ribs to shut him up and fixed Gwen with what he hoped was a convincingly innocent smile.

“Right, sorry. For a moment there I thought you were going to say something else.”

“Like what?” Gwen challenged. She was openly grinning now.

“Nothing. Let’s move a bit faster, yes? I’m sure Morgana is terribly bored waiting for all of us.”

Gwen chuckled with the air of one who knows they’re being lied to but is far too amused to care. Mercifully, however, she let it go.

When they arrived in Morgana’s chambers, they found the lady standing by the window and clutching a handkerchief against her chest as if her life depended on it. She was still in her dressing gown, and as she turned to address the three it became increasingly clear that this was deathly serious. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks tear stained, and the wide eyed look of relief she gave Arthur when he stepped through the door further confirmed the severity of the situation.

“Thank god,” Morgana breathed. “I feared it may be too late to warn you.”

“Too late?” Merlin questioned.

Arthur crossed the room and placed a hand on Morgana’s shoulder to calm her down, but she was inconsolable.

“I had another dream,” She began shakily, fixing Arthur with a wide eyed stare. “It was at the banquet tonight. I saw a woman in a captain’s uniform kiss a woman named Eleanor; the one called Eleanor was crying.”

Merlin and Arthur exchanged an uneasy glance.

Morgana bit down on one of her knuckles and shook her head, tears escaping her eyes once more. She shook Arthur’s hand off and ran to bury her head in Guinviere’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, my lady,” Gwen said softly, taking the lady into her arms and sighing deeply. She looked up and smiled apologetically before continuing where Morgana had left off.

“She saw a black liquid being poured into a goblet. Siren venom, she says. Then, she saw the goblet fall to the floor and heard screaming. Morgana believes Arthur was the one to drink it.”

“Why?” Arthur demanded. His jaw was set and his eyes were darkened with malice. He seemed to be coming to the same conclusion as Merlin.

“Morgana said that she could only see one familiar face when the goblet fell,” Gwen explained. “Merlin’s face.”

Arthur turned slowly to face Merlin, who was getting an uncomfortably familiar feeling about all of this.

“He looked like he was mouthing ‘Arthur,’” Gwen concluded quietly. Morgana let out a muffled sob, prompting Gwen to shush her gently and rub her back comfortingly.

“Lillian.” Merlin spat, choosing to ignore the sorrowful look that Arthur was giving him at the moment. “It must be.”

“Would that be the first woman? Eleanor’s lover?” Gwen inquired in a soft voice, petting the back of Morgana’s head soothingly.

“Yeah,” Arthur remarked bitterly, finally looking away from Merlin. “She’s the one who stood by while Mary ran me through.”

“Old habits die hard, I s’pose,” Merlin said darkly. “It seems as though she hasn’t lost her taste for regicide after all.”

He didn’t like the look Arthur gave him in response. Something in his eyes was too sad for comfort.

Gwen, who had been watching this exchange with a steadily growing expression of dread, cleared her throat.

The two men snapped their heads to look at her expectantly.

“It wasn’t Lillian who poisoned the goblet in the dream,” Gwen admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Merlin froze.

“What?”

Gwen tightened her mouth into a line and shook her head, fixing Arthur and Merlin with a truly distressed expression.

She sighed heavily.

“It was Eleanor.”

Chapter Text

Arthur was sitting in the corner of his chambers, back unnaturally straight and eyes trained on the door with a neutral expression that looked rather forced. To someone who didn’t know him, he looked like any other prince who was lost in thought about some boring affair of state. Merlin, of course, knew better. Arthur was nervous. Not that he’d ever admit that. He had become quite masterful at hiding it over the years, but it would never be enough to fool Merlin.

Not that Merlin blamed him for being on edge. They’d discovered only an hour ago that someone they had deemed a friend was intent on poisoning Arthur. That alone would be probable cause for concern. However, this time there was the advantage of forewarning. This time, they knew exactly what was going to happen. This, Merlin reflected, was the exact same advantage Lillian had over them the first time. The elephant in the room still remained, terrible as ever before: what were they going to do about it?

Arthur would never kill an innocent. Therefore, since Eleanor had yet to actually commit any treason, Arthur would refuse a preemptive strike. That much was obvious, especially when Merlin considered how willing the prince had been to die for Eleanor without even knowing her.

Which, of course, brought up another point. Why? Why would Eleanor, who Arthur nearly gave his life for and who was so disgusted by Lillian’s attempts to kill Arthur, suddenly become the perpetrator of an attempt on his life? It didn’t make any sense.

There wasn’t anything to do, Merlin reasoned, except perhaps preventing Arthur from drinking anything at all. That much was doable. Right?

Merlin was busy gathering the prince’s garments for the evening, making sure to pick the least extravagant formal wear that was available for an event of this caliber. He didn’t want any unnecessary attention being drawn to Arthur, lest the lack of drink be taken as an insult to the nobility who would no doubt be in attendance. Additionally, it wouldn’t hurt Merlin’s chances of ignoring the nagging feelings he was beginning to have concerning Arthur, as was currently his plan.

Noticing the choice in clothes, Arthur cocked an eyebrow and relaxed his posture slightly, a hint of a smile blooming on his face.

“THAT’S what you picked?” He scoffed. “It looks more suitable for a funeral than a banquet.”

“I reckon it’s fitting if you do happen to end up dead,” Merlin remarked. “Besides, black suits you.”

At this, Arthur’s eyebrows shot up and he made a strange choking noise that he somehow managed to turn into a derisive laugh.

Merlin shot him a confused look before carefully folding the tunic he’d selected and draping it over the changing screen. He prevented himself from reading too far into Arthur’s reaction. There were more urgent matters to attend to.

Besides, he couldn’t very well entertain the idea of anything more with Arthur if he was dead. That was the angle he’d settled on; it was getting difficult to ignore his feelings when the prat insisted on smiling like a lovestruck puppy every five seconds. It must be on purpose, Merlin thought. Nobody actually smiles like that.

“Get to it,” He finally said, jerking his head towards the clothes. “We’re already late.”

“Why should I go at all if I’m to be poisoned?” Arthur groaned.

“Because,” Merlin said, finding no real answer to that question. “Off you go.”

Arthur sighed and finally hauled himself to his feet, trudging behind the curtain and beginning to remove his clothes. Merlin made a point not to stare.

“I can’t believe Eleanor would do this,” Arthur mused, wrestling with himself until he was finally out of his tunic. He tossed it to the floor carelessly, leaving Merlin to groan and make a mental note to pick it up later. Arthur would inevitably make a fuss about it the next time he saw it.

“Perhaps Lillian finally got to her,” Merlin suggested. “She did only want you dead so that Eleanor could live.”

Arthur frowned.

“But Eleanor did live. Why would my life threaten her this time?”

“I don’t know, sire.”

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur winced at the formal language.

“Don’t give me that ‘sire’ business. It’s unnerving when you address me correctly.”

“But it’s irritating when I don’t?”

“Exactly.”

“What am I meant to do, then?”

“Hm.” Arthur pretended to ponder Merlin’s question. Then, his face lighting up with mock realization: “Here’s an idea! Shut up.”

Merlin, who had begun to pointedly keep his eyes towards the ceiling while Arthur pulled up his new trousers, opted to simply nod in response.

Paradoxically, the lack of a verbal response seemed to upset Arthur even more.

“You don’t seem very worried about tonight,” Arthur observed. He grinned and nudged Merlin’s arm when he didn’t respond. “What is it? You can’t wait to be rid of me?”

“Not at all,” Merlin replied airily, easing Arthur into his tunic and trying his best to ignore his thoughts (Which were currently betraying him.) “I just trust that not even you could be stupid enough to drink anything tonight.”

“Why, Merlin,” Arthur drawled. “I didn’t realize you had such faith in me.”

Merlin tossed him his jacket, purposefully hitting him in the face.

“You can be quite rational when you absolutely need to be.”

Arthur laughed far softer than Merlin had been expecting considering the jacket incident.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that sounded like a compliment,” Arthur remarked, fixing Merlin with a truly heart-stopping smile.

Prat.

“It’s a good thing you know better, then,” Merlin replied easily, prompting a snort from Arthur.

“Don’t let that go to your head, mind.” Merlin extended a finger towards Arthur’s face in warning. “You’re still an idiot, through and through.”

Arthur grinned like someone who was already letting it go to his head.

“There,” Merlin said, finishing off the ties on Arthur’s tunic and taking a step back. “All set.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you? Are you feeling alright?”

“Never better.”

“That’s odd,” Merlin frowned. “Especially given that you might die in an hour or two.”

“I won’t die,” Arthur insisted. Then, thinking for a moment. “I probably won’t die.”

“I feel better already.”

They fell silent for a moment. Merlin became uncomfortably aware of how close they were standing and made a point to train his eyes on anything but Arthur’s face.

“If you have a moment,” Arthur blurted out. His eyes widened slightly as if he was just as surprised to hear those words come out of his mouth.

“Not sure why I said that; of course you have a moment.”

Merlin blinked.

“Right.” He could think of nothing else to say to that.

Evidently deciding he may as well go through with it, Arthur coughed.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Merlin cocked an eyebrow and scoffed.

“Right. I’ll clean the stables tomorrow, sorry; we were running late.”

“No, I didn’t-“

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until after the banquet,” Merlin insisted. “Your father will have my head if we hang around here any longer.”

“Merlin?” Arthur asked sweetly.

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Right, sorry.”

“I wanted to explain myself a bit,” Arthur said, moving past Merlin to take a seat at the table.

The all-black clothing was having quite the opposite effect that Merlin had intended; his sudden shortness of breath could attest to that. He cursed under his breath. It was, of course, irrational to blame Arthur for this; but that didn’t stop him from trying.

Groaning under his breath and resigning himself to Uther’s wrath when the crown prince turned up an hour late, Merlin slid into the seat across from Arthur.

“I expect you’re curious what exactly I talked about with Francis.”

Merlin blinked. That wasn’t what he had expected, but he couldn’t deny that he was curious.

“Yes, I believe you only told me part of it,” Merlin nodded. “Something about how pretty my eyes are.”

“Shut up.”

“Anything for you, sire.”

Arthur groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.

“Are you always this annoying?”

“When it suits me.”

“Reserve it specially for me, do you?”

“Naturally.”

Arthur chuckled in response, coming as a considerable relief to Merlin, who had been worried he’d pushed Arthur too far.

“You were saying?” He offered.

“Right, yeah,” Arthur began. “I expect you remember what happened the last time we were at Francis’s.”

“I remember,” Merlin said, all traces of humor gone from his voice. Now wasn’t the time for jokes.

“I was scared, to be perfectly honest,” Arthur admitted. His gaze had softened considerably and he made steady eye contact with Merlin, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I just wanted to talk to someone like me who wasn’t scared anymore.”

Arthur sighed.

“I asked Francis how he came to be so happy, given... everything. He told me a lot about himself, gave me advice...”

Arthur’s voice trailed off and he smiled.

“I asked about the eye color bit at some point. I must have sounded mad trying to keep your secret; I told him I had an irrational fear of the color yellow.”

Merlin fought back a snort.

Arthur glared but quickly broke into a smile. It was a special, patiently irritated smile that seemed to be reserved for Merlin alone.

“It worked, at any rate,” Arthur admitted.

“I’m glad.”

They stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how to continue. The energy in the room had shifted dramatically, but towards what was anyone’s guess. Merlin found himself at a loss for words.

Arthur’s eyes were filled with an indeterminate emotion, the soft blue seeming to resonate with unspoken words.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Hello? My lord? I’ve been sent to fetch you for the banquet.” A woman’s voice came floating through the door, sounding muffled but just loud enough to hear her words.

The two men froze.

It was Eleanor.

“Enter?” Arthur said with absolutely zero conviction.

Merlin rocketed to his feet and crossed to stand behind Arthur, making a huge show of dusting off his shoulders to make it appear as though their lateness was justified.

Eleanor appeared in the doorway, wearing a stunning dark green gown and with her hair pulled up into one of her trademark ornate updos. She looked absolutely stunning and not at all like a cold blooded killer, which was admittedly not what Merlin was expecting.

She smiled upon seeing Merlin and waved enthusiastically.

“Merlin! It feels as though it’s been years.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Merlin replied uneasily.

Sensing the peculiarities in his tone but evidently deciding to ignore it, Eleanor furrowed her eyebrows and sighed.

“Right. Sorry to barge in like this but the king is getting waspish in your absence, my lord.”

“Arthur is fine.” Arthur waved a hand dismissively and shrugged. “I believe we’ve been through a bit too much together to carry on with the formalities.”

“Of course.” Eleanor lingered in the doorway for a bit, looking as if she wanted to say something.

She didn’t look like someone with any malicious intent, Merlin thought. In fact, she looked genuinely relieved to see them.

Her dark eyes lit up suddenly and she smiled.

“I forgot! I wanted to tell you something, Merlin.”

“Oh?”

“Sam was allowed to come with us! He’s being treated as an honored guest along with the rest of the crew.”

Merlin allowed himself a genuine smile. He had missed Sam, but usually avoided bringing this up aloud. It seemed to upset Arthur.

“That’s great!”

“You lot had better get down there quickly, by the way,” Eleanor chuckled. “Between you and me, he looks a bit stupid sitting all alone.”

“Of course, we’ll be right- Hang on, what?” Arthur’s eyebrows shot up.

Eleanor frowned.

“You’re to be seated on either side of Sam.”

“Ah. Right,” Arthur forced out a laugh. “Of course.”

Merlin shot him a confused look, prompting a snort out of Eleanor.

“I’ll tell him to move, my lord.”

“No, that’s alright-!” Arthur tried to assure her but she waved a hand and chuckled again.

“It’s no trouble. Honest. Are you alright if he moves to Merlin’s other side? That would put you next to me.”

Merlin placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and squeezed violently, hoping to communicate that he should just swallow his pride and sit by Sam. The prince, however swatted his hand off and gave Eleanor one of his well-practiced smiles.

“Absolutely. I’d be honored.”

Eleanor bowed and gave them a small wave before exiting the room in a flash of green.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Likewise.”

“Arthur, she’s looking to kill you and you’ve just agreed to sit next to her.”

“I’m aware.”

Merlin groaned.

“Why?”

“It’s of little importance WHY I did it, Merlin,” Arthur shrugged, an infuriatingly casual grin on his face. “It’s been done. Now, I believe we have a banquet to get to.”

“Are you TRYING to get yourself killed?”

“No, but if it’s between death and another moment of your nagging I know which option I’d prefer.”

Chapter Text

“Please, Gaius. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, I don’t know that,” Gaius said with an exasperated sigh. “But judging by the fact that Arthur is here I’m more inclined to believe you than usual.”

Even Arthur looked surprised at that.

“Do you have any or not?” Merlin pried.

“Yes, but I’m afraid I’m down to my last one.”

Gaius turned and began to dig through a pile on one of his several rickety shelves, pausing momentarily to squint at the labels on the countless glass bottles and boxes he pulled out.

Arthur stood behind Merlin, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe and glaring like it was his job.

“We’re late,” He spat.

“I’m aware,” Merlin shot back.

“Surely whatever you need can wait.”

“Ah, no, sorry. It really can’t,” Merlin insisted, fighting the urge to beg Gaius to hurry up. The old man always worked on his own time and today was no exception.

“Aha!” Gaius finally exclaimed, producing a small leather pouch and holding it up triumphantly.

“Great. Can I see it?” Merlin stretched his hand out.

“Dare I ask why you need it?” Gaius asked with a hint of suspicion in his tone, emptying the pouch into his hand. The pouch’s content was a single leaf, no bigger than a blueberry in size and a violent lime green in color.

Merlin chuckled nervously.

“You daren’t.”

“As I suspected. Well, take it, then. I expect you to help me replace them, mind you.”

“Right, of course. Thank you, Gaius.”

Arthur crossed in front of Merlin to get a better look at the leaf. He scoffed.

“You brought us all the way down here for a LEAF?”

Merlin gave him an especially drawn out eye roll and carefully pocketed the little leaf.

“It’s important.”

“It better be.”

Gaius, who had been watching this exchange with a knowing smile, raised an eyebrow.

“Am I to assume that you are in on this, sire?”

“In a sense,” Arthur admitted, roughly grabbing Merlin’s shoulder and shoving him towards the door. “I promise we’ll explain everything later; Thank you, Gaius.”

“Of course, sire. Take care.” Gaius chuckled softly, clearly not too bothered with the secrecy.

The second the door closed behind them, Arthur cuffed Merlin over the head and began stomping toward the banquet hall, dragging Merlin behind him by the collar.

“You made us even later for a LEAF?” Arthur hissed

“Yeah,” Merlin said, swatting his hand off and jogging to keep up with Arthur’s pace.

“May I ask WHY?” The prince spat.

“This leaf comes from a plant that’s immensely difficult to grow; any slight change in its conditions can kill it immediately,” Merlin explained.

“Oh, great,” Arthur drawled, voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve brought me a finicky leaf. I’m sure the king will understand completely when you explain; my father is known far and wide as a level-headed and perfectly rational man who loves troublesome plants.”

“Its conditions matter because the leaf has an extreme physical reaction to certain substances,” Merlin continued, not listening. “Because of that, it’s an incredibly accurate detector of poison.”

Arthur quit his ranting all at once and nearly stopped walking. He coughed.

“Oh.”

Now it was Merlin’s turn to dial up the sarcasm.

“Forgive me for trying to make your survival a bit more likely, sire. It won’t happen again, I assure you.”

“Shut up,” Arthur snapped. Then, he sighed. “Sorry. How does it work?”

Merlin smiled, appreciating self-awareness from Arthur whenever he could get it.

“It’s not difficult. You just drop the leaf into a liquid and if there’s any hint of dangerous substances, it’ll shrivel up.”

“Where were these when YOU got poisoned?” Arthur snorted.

“Gaius procured them because of that incident, I believe. That, and they’re incredibly difficult to find and grow.”

Arthur, apparently finding nothing snarky he could say in response, simply nodded.

They reached the door to the banquet hall and came to a halt.

After a brief argument over who was going in first (“I will NOT have all those eyes on me.” “You’re the PRINCE; isn’t that part of the job?”) they settled on entering side by side.

When they finally set foot within the banquet hall, the room erupted in applause. Merlin, momentarily forgetting that the Crown Prince of Camelot was walking beside him, wondered for a split second why everyone was cheering for him.

The hall was filled to the brim with nobility, with members of Aldith’s court all sporting varying shades of blue and teal and Uther’s court being bathed in red. It seemed as though the king had placed a little more emphasis on the dress code for this banquet than usual, perhaps in an attempt to impress the notoriously coordinated Queen Aldith.

This brilliant display of color, unfortunately, meant that Arthur stuck out like a sore thumb in his all black ensemble. Even the crew, seated at their own table, were all dressed in shades of green and blue.

Merlin winced. His normal outfit could pass quite easily with the Camelot color scheme, but Arthur’s matched no one. Beside him, evidently noticing the same thing, Arthur set his jaw and raised his eyes to the ceiling as if begging the gods to just take him now.

Uther looked livid, to say the least. Aldith, however, simply offered a terse smile when the duo entered the room, and politely joined in the applause herself.

They took their seats, with Arthur next to Eleanor and Merlin next to Arthur. Sam sat on his other side, excitedly whispering his hellos. He was sporting a garishly bright teal outfit and his curly brown hair had been carefully slicked back against his head, giving the boy a very silly look in Merlin’s opinion.

Arthur concealed a snicker.

Merlin elbowed him in the ribs.

“Look at you,” Sam remarked with a smile, slapping Merlin on the back playfully. “I see you’ve really dressed up for the occasion.”

Merlin glanced down at his outfit, the same one he wore every day.

“Hi, Sam,” He chuckled, shooting a glance at the row of goblets lining the table. Further on down the line were Arthur and Eleanor exchanging a tense conversation, with Lillian listening intently from the other side. Past her sat the rest of the crew, talking excitedly and eating their food carefully with the air of people who were afraid of coming off uncivilized.

Lillian caught Merlin’s eye and waved. Merlin did his best to look innocent and waved back. She was fully decked out in the captains uniform, and looked more than a little irritated with this fact.

“Why is Arthur sitting here?” Sam asked after a few too many moments of Merlin zoning out. “The Lady Morgana is by Uther’s side; shouldn’t he be up there with his father as well?”

“I imagine it’s because Arthur was on the voyage with us,” Merlin shrugged. “Everyone at this table fought the Sirens; Morgana didn’t.”

“That’s fair, I s’pose.”

“Although, between you and me, Morgana would’ve taken out 6 or 7 at least if she’d been there.”

Sam’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and he broke out into a huge smile.

“Really?”

“Oh, easily. In fact, I’m probably underestimating her a bit.”

“Wow,” Sam breathed.

“Merlin?” Arthur tapped him on the shoulder and nodded at Sam in greeting. “Eleanor wants to say hello.”

Arthur’s face seemed slightly pale, and Merlin raised his eyebrows in a nonverbal “Everything alright?”

Arthur gave him a weak smile and a dismissive hand wave in response before leaning back to allow Merlin to see Eleanor.

She was still in the green gown she wore earlier, a slight difference from the rest of Aldith’s court but just cool-toned enough to be passable. Merlin had to admit that she looked gorgeous, despite the murderous intent.

“Enjoying the banquet now that you’re finally here?” She teased, shooting him a grin.

“It looks different from this side of the table. I’m not usually allowed to sit down.” Merlin joked, hoping his nerves didn’t show in his voice.

Eleanor smiled and gestured over at Queen Aldith.

“You can thank Her Majesty for that. Lillian claimed she vouched for you personally. Rumor has it Uther wasn’t too happy.”

“Right,” Merlin laughed nervously. “I imagine he wasn’t.”

Taking Eleanor’s lack of response to that as his release from the conversation, he turned back to face forward.

This time, Uther had opted not to display any Siren carcasses, much to Merlin’s relief. Arthur looked quite pleased with that development as well.

By Uther’s other side sat Morgana, with Gwen hovering nearby to fill jugs as was needed. Morgana was shaking ever so slightly, and she kept looking over at Arthur as if she expected him to drop dead at any second. Gwen offered Merlin a little wave when she noticed him and placed a comforting hand on Morgana’s shoulder. She leaned down and began to whisper what Merlin assumed were words of comfort into Morgana’s ear.

“Right,” Merlin muttered, turning his attention to Arthur. “We’ve waited long enough. Drop this into your drink.”

He discreetly pressed the leaf into Arthur’s hand under the table. Carefully, the prince made a move as if to wipe an imaginary smudge off of the rim of his goblet and allowed the little leaf to fall in.

It shriveled up immediately.

They stared for a moment, not speaking just yet. They had known it was probably going to be poisoned, but having it be confirmed before their eyes was rather sobering.

“Good to know,” Arthur remarked uneasily.

“I reckon it’s better if you skip the wine for today, sire.”

“I might have to agree.”

Merlin looked to his right and noticed Eleanor move her head swiftly back to the front. His blood ran cold.

She had been watching.

“Spill your wine.” Merlin muttered, elbowing Arthur.

“What?”

“Dump it out. Spill it. Do something.”

Arthur nodded and made a move to knock his goblet over, but was interrupted by a piercing shriek that echoed through the room and rendered the guests silent.

The woman to Lillian’s right was standing, drenched in wine and looking absolutely enraged. Lillian was dabbing at her sleeves with a handkerchief and apologizing profusely, the woman’s goblet evidently having been knocked over onto her.

“I’ll help you,” Eleanor announced, rising and making her way around to the front of the table. The hall began to rise in volume again, losing interest in this new development quite quickly.

As Eleanor passed each seat, she gathered up all of the goblets and carefully placed them in a neat group on the floor.

“Keep an eye on yours,” Merlin whispered. “I don’t know what she’s doing.”

Arthur nodded.

Eleanor produced a handkerchief and began to sop up the spilled wine on the table, working quickly and getting the majority of it cleaned up in a minute or two.

Arthur and Merlin exchanged a confused glance. Sam was still eating cheerfully, unaware of anything out of the ordinary.

The woman who had been spilled on left the table in a huff, leaving Lillian to glare at her back and angrily throw her handkerchief down onto her plate.

Merlin turned his attention back to Eleanor and froze.

She was very quickly distributing the contents of one of the goblets into half of the others before taking the now empty cup and placing it at her own seat. Then, she selected another goblet and poured its contents into the other half before gathering a few into her hands at a time and placing them back at each seat with a smile and whispered apologies. The second empty cup was placed at the missing woman’s spot.

From her spot on the floor and the speed with which she worked, it was near impossible to keep track of which goblet had been poured into which other goblets. Not even Lillian seemed to be aware of what had happened.

“She knows that we know,” Arthur breathed, eyes widening in horror. “She’s poisoned more of them.”

“Which ones?” Merlin asked, his panic steadily mounting. “Did you see?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe they all are.”

“She wouldn’t dare.”

“I think she would.”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Sam asked all of a sudden, chuckling. He brought his goblet up to his lips and took a sip.

Merlin turned and immediately went pale in the face. He felt sick.

“Spit it out. Sam, spit it out.”

Sam gulped noisily and grinned.

“What?”

Merlin and Arthur watched in abject horror, Merlin’s hands flying up to cover his mouth and Arthur’s to cover his eyes. They waited for a few seconds, neither of them daring to breathe.

“What are you two doing?” Sam asked cautiously, chuckling. “Is something the matter?”

Arthur removed one hand and raised his eyebrows.

“How do you feel?” He asked hesitantly.

“Confused, at the moment,” Sam remarked. “What has gotten into you two?”

Both Merlin and Arthur practically melted with relief. Sam glanced between the two of them, a cautious smile in his face but concern apparent in his eyes.

“Right,” Merlin coughed. “Sorry. Just tired.”

“Tired?” Sam repeated suspiciously.

“Yes. Very,” Arthur cut in. “We had a difficult journey back.”

He fixed Sam with one of his ridiculously cheesy smiles which somehow managed to ease the boy’s doubts.

“Alright, then,” Sam chuckled, turning back to his food.

Merlin smiled until Sam’s eyes were off of him and then immediately let the facade fall. He turned and whispered to Arthur.

“So they’re not all poisoned.”

“Quite a comfort. Does that mean mine is safe?” Arthur asked earnestly.

“Why would yours be safe?” Merlin half-scoffed.

Arthur frowned, looking genuinely offended.

“She switched them around. What would be the point of that if mine was left alone?”

“You are the smartest man I have ever met, and yet your idiocy is immeasurable.”Merlin groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Eleanor’s entire intent is to kill you; why would she leave your goblet alone?”

“You think I’m the smartest man you’ve ever met?” Arthur asked, a soft smile playing at his lips.

For god’s sake, Merlin thought. You’re about to be poisoned; perhaps you should act like it.

“Yes, and you think my eyes are pretty. I believe that makes us even.” He remarked.

“I believe you’ve made your point.” Arthur snapped.

Merlin gave him a slightly apologetic grin and glanced back down the table. The crew were still eating cheerfully and seemingly having a great time. Eleanor and Lillian were chatting away, with Lillian resting her head on her hand and looking like there was nobody else in the room but her.

“Right. We’ve just got to keep track of who drinks, I suppose.” Merlin shrugged and tried to focus on everyone’s goblets.

“If someone gets poisoned everyone will know within seconds,” Arthur pointed out. “That’s a massive risk to take; she had no way of knowing if I would drink first.”

“That’s true,” Merlin muttered. “Perhaps she’s only done this to confuse us.”

“I would expect that type of scheming from Lillian,” Arthur admitted. “But Eleanor has always seemed so kind.”

“People can change quickly, I s’pose. Perhaps we never knew her at all.”

Merlin squinted down the table and watched as one of the cooks brought her goblet to her lips and took a sip.

He held his breath.

Nothing.

The prince let out a slight sigh beside him as he let himself breathe again.

“Nearly half of them have drank already,” Arthur whispered. “Eleanor emptied two goblets into all of the others, so at least one of the two must have been normal wine. There’s far too many people drinking for half of them to have been poisoned.”

“That nearly sounded like a coherent thought! We’ll make an intellectual of you yet.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“Two more just drank,” Merlin remarked, fighting a grin at Arthur’s annoyance. “That’s more than half now. Both goblets must have been normal wine, which means-“

“There’s still only one that’s been poisoned,” Arthur finished.

“Exactly. I’d reckon it’s probably yours.”

“Probably a safe assumption.”

“Everything is fine, then, right? We just need to keep your goblet-“ Merlin cut himself off and froze, eyes growing in size and his mouth dropping open.

Arthur didn’t notice at first, and inclined his head slightly while he waited for Merlin to finish his sentence. Then, when he realized the thought would never be finished, he furrowed his eyebrows and turned around wildly, looking for the source of Merlin’s distress.

“What is it?”

“Your goblet is empty.”

“That’s ridiculous; why would my goblet be-?” Arthur turned and saw his goblet, killing the snarky comment in his throat. He turned back to Merlin with renewed horror.

“Oh my god, my goblet is empty.”

“That’s what I JUST said.”

“Shut up.”

“How eloquent.”

“How is this possible?”

“I don’t know.” Merlin closed his eyes and tried to think. The facts were confusing at best. Fact number one: Arthur’s goblet was poisoned. Fact number two: Eleanor switched the goblets around and purposefully tried to confuse them. Fact number three: Arthur’s goblet, which they had previously assumed was poisoned, was now empty. Fact number four...

There was no fact number four.

Merlin cursed under his breath. Thinking usually made him feel better but he felt considerably worse at the moment.

Arthur glanced down the table and his eyes widened minutely. He let out a sound that was half a laugh and half a whimper.

“I don’t believe it,” He muttered.

“What?” Merlin demanded, trying to follow his gaze.

“Eleanor had an empty goblet, didn’t she?”

“Yes. What about it?”

“It’s full.”

“What?”

“See for yourself.”

Merlin leaned around Arthur’s shoulder to get a better view. Eleanor laughed at a joke Lillian had made and threw her head back, revealing a very full goblet in her other hand.

“When the Hell did she have time to do that?” Arthur breathed.

“That makes no sense,” Merlin muttered. “Everyone’s had at least a sip by now; where did the poison go?”

Suddenly, Arthur stiffened. His blue eyes darkened. Merlin knew that look all too well, and he also knew that whoever had caused it was in for a bad time. Something had just royally pissed Arthur off.

Merlin frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Merlin, you haven’t had any wine yet, have you?” Arthur asked in a measured tone.

“No, I haven’t. Why is that-?” Merlin’s sentence trailed off when he realized. “Oh.”

“At least we know where it is,” Arthur said grimly, a humorless smile on his otherwise cold face.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Merlin said, hoping he sounded casual. “I just won’t drink.”

“You’d better not,” Arthur warned. His gaze softened slightly, and Merlin caught a hint of vulnerability behind his eyes before he set his jaw and snapped back into his angered state.

Merlin sighed. He supposed he should be flattered that an attempt on his life was evoking this sort of reaction from Arthur, but really he just wished that there didn’t have to be an attempt on his life at all. It got rather tiring having to cheat death bi-weekly.

Suddenly, Uther and Aldith rose to their feet, each bearing their goblet of wine and addressing the crowd with practiced smiles.

“Here we go,” Arthur groaned.

“Friends, I bid you welcome,” Uther began, his booming voice easily bringing the hall to silence. “It is my honor to both welcome Queen Aldith and her court to Camelot, and to extend the most sincere gratitude to my son and her crew for eliminating the Sirens once and for all.”

He gestured to the table of crew-mates and allowed the nobility to applaud for a bit before raising a hand and silencing them.

“I would also like to extend a special thank you to Lillian, the captain of the voyage that brought the Sirens down.”

Lillian stood to be acknowledged, smiling brightly and waving around the room. She caught Merlin’s eyes and her smile seemed to falter, giving it a more sinister appearance. Merlin shuddered.

“And now, I’d like to propose a toast,” Uther continued and raised his goblet high. “To my son, Arthur, and the brave crew that helped to rid the world of these monsters.”

Merlin should have been bitter that he was technically left out of the speech, but he scarcely had time before a strangled whimper from his right cut his thoughts short.

His head whipped around to face Arthur.

He froze.

Arthur had taken Merlin’s goblet and was slowly bringing it to his lips, his movements jerky and unnatural. The prince’s eyes were widened in fear and he was straining as if trying to stop himself.

Magic, Merlin thought.

He immediately scanned the table for Lillian and saw her muttering something under her breath, her eyes half closed. When they fluttered open long enough for Merlin to get a proper look his suspicions were confirmed. The captain’s irises were gold.

Already the nobility were looking at Arthur confusedly. His goblet was frozen halfway to his lips and his mouth was twisted into a grimace as he desperately fought against the spell’s effects. They were beginning to whisper, and Uther was already turning to offer silver-tongued explanations for his son’s lack of decorum to Aldith. Morgana was staring, eyes wide.

Merlin reached out to try and stop Arthur but the prince’s other arm jerked towards him and slapped him away.

“S-orry,” Arthur choked out. He gasped in pain and the magic finally overpowered his will. He opened his mouth and poured the entire goblet down his throat.

“ARTHUR!” Merlin screamed, desperation tearing its way out of his throat and making his voice hoarser than it had ever been.

Morgana jumped up from her seat with her eyes full of tears and slapped a hand across her mouth. Her own goblet fell to the floor, drenching the stone in red.

Uther lowered his drink and stared, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and gaze darting around wildly to find the source of the scream.

The banquet hall had long since fallen silent.

Merlin stared in horror, fear gluing him to his seat.

Arthur’s eyes slowly dropped to the cup in his hand. Carefully, he lowered it to the table and set it down. He locked eyes with Merlin.

“I’m alright...” He whispered, looking like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

Then, before Merlin could process what had happened, before he could cheer or hug him or cry from relief, there came a loud thud from further down the table.

Everyone turned.

Someone screamed.

It might have been Morgana.

Lillian was dead.

Her half drank wine was spilled all over the table and a thin trickle of black liquid ran out of the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were half closed, glassy and unseeing.

Merlin leapt out of his seat to go help but was stopped by a light hand on his wrist.

He turned around, confused.

Sam stared back at him, eyes solemn and jaw set.

“Don’t.”

Merlin nodded numbly. Sam had never looked like that before.

Something was different.

His mind was racing.

He didn’t understand.

People started screaming.

Arthur turned to look at Merlin, his face drained of all color and his hands shaky.

“What happened?” He asked quietly, expression stoic.

“I don’t know,” Merlin whispered back.

Sam got up from his seat wordlessly and made his way towards Lillian, giving Merlin and Arthur a light squeeze on their shoulders as he passed.

The nobility were all standing up and fleeing the hall in droves while Uther was barking orders to the guards in attendance. Aldith was among the ones screaming, tears streaming down her face and her hands clawing at the air as if Lillian had been her own daughter. Morgana sat, motionless, evidently too shocked to react. Gwen was stroking her hair and comforting her as best she could while biting back her own fear.

Eleanor was sobbing by Lillian’s side, hands placed gently on either side of the dead woman’s face.

Merlin froze.

The goblet-switching had been a distraction. They were right about that.

He began to feel sick.

The distraction wasn’t meant for them at all.

“I’m sorry,” Eleanor was saying. “I’m so sorry.”

Chapter Text

Arthur had been gone for five minutes.

In his absence, the prince’s chambers held a young boy with haunted eyes and a stoic face, a silent woman who couldn’t bring herself to look at anyone just yet, and his manservant, who was at the moment pacing the floor and trying not to scream.

Merlin was feeling a lot of things currently; none of them simple to explain. He couldn’t deny the relief upon realizing Arthur was alright, but the notion that Eleanor would put him in danger to suit her own purpose brought about a rage that nearly scared Merlin with its intensity.

Then there was the matter of Lillian. Merlin had no confirmation of her role in the matter, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was probably behind it all. Perhaps it hadn’t quite turned out the way she had expected, but it seemed to be her type of idea.

If Merlin was to believe that Eleanor had betrayed Lillian to keep Arthur safe, that brought about even more dilemmas that in turn caused even more emotional turmoil. Among his most upsetting questions were: Why did Sam appear to know what was going on? Why go through the trouble of confusing him and nearly poisoning Arthur if the end goal was to kill Lillian? Why not just tell the king and have Lillian arrested?

He was trying to be objective.

It wasn’t working.

All he knew was that Arthur had been put in danger and Lillian was dead.

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to slow his breathing. He didn’t have much success with that, either. His anger was boiling just beneath the surface, threatening to burst through his skin and tear the room apart brick by brick if it meant any sort of emotional release.

To say he was coping poorly would be an understatement.

Eleanor hadn’t said a word yet, but her jaw was set and her eyes were darkened with a strange mixture of contentment and loss. She was far from happy, but the look on her face seemed almost vindicated.

Samuel looked older than Merlin had ever seen him. Leaned against the wall with a stony expression adorning his face as he watched Merlin pace, Sam had the air of a much older and more jaded man.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, not looking very sure of himself.

“Merlin,” He ventured softly. “May we explain ourselves?”

Merlin quit pacing and turned to him with an icy expression. Sam winced as if he had expected to be hit.

For a moment Merlin felt a twinge of guilt.

It’s not Sam’s fault, he reminded himself. He didn’t do anything wrong.

Eleanor glanced up, eyes narrowed slightly. She remained silent but her gaze carried a warning that Samuel acknowledged with a curt nod.

“You can try,” Merlin decided to say, his voice cold.

A brief flash of hurt registered in Sam’s eyes before he bowed his head and sighed, looking defeated. He began to speak slowly.

“Lillian was going to kill Arthur and she wanted Eleanor to help her,” He explained. “Eleanor agreed to but she was never actually going to do it. She-“

“I’ve actually managed to figure that bit out for myself,” Merlin scoffed. “What I’m more interested in is why that poison ended up in Arthur’s goblet. No matter how you look at it, she put him at risk.”

“You’re blinded by your loyalty to him.”

Eleanor finally spoke, her voice strong and steadier than Merlin had expected.

For a moment Merlin just stared, his anger growing dangerously close to swallowing him whole. How dare she turn this on him?

He took a deep breath and tried to respond nonchalantly.

“What does that mean?”

“I can use a different L word if that would help you understand,” Eleanor said harshly.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up.

“Eleanor, stop,” He warned. “That’s not fair.”

If she heard him, Eleanor didn’t show it.

Merlin’s thoughts were racing.

Arthur had been gone for 6 minutes.

“What don’t I know, then?” Merlin demanded, his attempts to act unfazed falling just short of believable. “Tell me how it is that you were actually trying to protect Arthur by slipping him Siren venom.”

“What you’re predictably failing to realize, Merlin, is that none of this is about Arthur.” Eleanor laughed icily and pointed to the door. “He’s only a part of this at all because Lillian decided he was a threat.”

Merlin faltered slightly. Her point wasn’t lost on him, but he also wasn’t exactly in the mood to accept criticism on his priorities.

“Can we please be civil?” Sam begged.

They ignored him.

“That venom ended up in Arthur’s goblet because Lillian watched me put it there,” Eleanor continued with slightly less anger in her voice. “Any chance I had to stop her depended on her believing I was on board. I watched Arthur the entire time to ensure he wouldn’t drink it. Once I realized that you knew about the poison, I just had to pray Arthur wasn’t dumb enough to drink it anyways.”

“Careful.” Merlin spat.

Sam nudged Eleanor’s arm and gave her a look that very plainly said “Don’t.”

“I had to do something, so I knocked Lillian’s cup over and switched the goblets.” Eleanor finished with a shrug, casting Sam an irritated look. At Merlin’s confused expression, she softened a bit and sighed.

“Lillian told me she was never going to stop trying.”

Eleanor brought a hand up to her hair and tugged on one of the ribbons, managing to release it from the braid it secured. She studied it for a second before letting it fall to the floor.

She sighed again.

“She thought that Arthur had angered fate by keeping both him and I alive, and she was determined to keep me safe and restore balance by killing Arthur.”

Merlin was silent, finding nothing he could say in response. This seemed to agitate Eleanor.

“Look, I don’t give a damn if I’m arrested or executed. I know that I did what was right.”

She paused for a moment and chanced a soft grin.

“Frankly I’m a little offended that you think I’m stupid enough to put Arthur in danger when you’re around.”

“Why would you kill her?” Merlin asked, ignoring her joke.

Her face fell.

“What?”

“Why wouldn’t you just tell the king and get her arrested?”

“You talk as though that wouldn’t have also ended up with Lillian dead,” Sam pointed out.

“She could have just been banished.” Merlin snapped.

“She would come right back and try again,” Eleanor sighed. “There was no other way.”

“There’s always another way.”

“You have no right to talk to me like this,” Eleanor snapped.

“Why didn’t you just tell someone?”

“I did. Sam. And he agreed with me that she had to be stopped at all costs.”

“It didn’t have to be this way.”

“Yes, it did.”

“That’s not true.”

“Do me a favor, Merlin,” Eleanor laughed humorlessly and sank into one of the chairs surrounding Arthur’s table. “If you still have any amount of respect for me, I’d like you to entertain a little scenario.”

Sam glanced between the two of them, and, evidently deciding that this was going to take a bit longer than he’d hoped, pulled up a chair across from Eleanor.

“What is this?” Merlin asked cautiously.

“Just give me two minutes,” Eleanor insisted, offering him a slightly sardonic smile.

“Fine.”

“Imagine that Arthur tells you he loves you.”

“That’s not-!”

“Two minutes, uninterrupted, please.”

Merlin glared, not speaking.

“Now imagine that Arthur arranges for Sam to be killed so that you may live. He didn’t tell you anything about this.”

“He would never-“

“Uninterrupted, thank you.” Eleanor wasn’t even looking at Merlin at this point. Her eyes were trained on the table in front of her, her fingertips tracing the pattern of the wood with slow, deliberate movements.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“You aren’t quite sure why Arthur wanted him dead at first because he won’t tell you everything. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that Sam killed his entire family in a pointlessly cruel military endeavor as a kid, or perhaps it’s because he’s a little jealous. You suppose you’ll never know.”

Eleanor’s voice was dripping with venom.

A pit of dread settled in Merlin’s stomach.

“Now imagine that Sam survives and everything is perfect again, except that now you know that Arthur was willing to kill your friend for your sake.”

Sam cast his eyes down. At the same time, Eleanor brought hers up to meet Merlin’s. She tilted her head.

“It bothers you, naturally. And you tell Arthur this, and he says he’s sorry. He says he’s a changed man and it’ll never happen again. And you love him, so you believe him.”

Merlin’s nails were digging into his palms but he couldn’t physically bring himself to unclench his fists.

“But then one day he comes to you and insists that you help him kill Sam,” Eleanor continued quietly. Her tone was dangerous. “He tells you he’ll never stop trying and he’s only doing this because he loves you so much.”

Eleanor was seething, her anger growing with every syllable.

Sam glanced up and placed a hand on her arm to try and calm her but she shook it off.

“And then,” She hissed, rising from her seat. “Arthur watches you poison Sam’s goblet and set it out for him. He sits with you for an hour, laughing and talking like he hasn’t just set the stage for the murder of your close friend and looking at you with such love that for a moment you almost forget what he’s trying to do.”

A tear escaped her eye and began its slow descent to the floor.

“You know that the Arthur you love is gone and you know that he will never stop until Sam is dead. So you do what you have to do because you know that it’s right.”

Merlin was silent.

“And the worst part? You still love him.”

Tears were streaming down Eleanor’s face uninhibited, and she was smiling with absolutely no trace of mirth behind her eyes.

“God, you love him so much. You always have. You used to think you’d do anything for him but it turns out that there’s a line and he has crossed it too many times to forgive.”

“Eleanor,” Sam said softly, and reached out to her.

She slapped his hand away and pointed a finger at Merlin accusingly.

“You hold his face in your hands as he passes and you watch him realize what you’ve done. He looks so, so sad, and you wonder if this was the right choice. You wonder if he could’ve been led down the right path if only you had tried harder.”

Her words were barely audible among the sobs that shook her body and shattered her voice.

“But the last thing you see on his face is not love, or forgiveness, or even sadness. It’s anger. He’s furious with you. The man you love dies with a scowl because you refused to kill a friend, and suddenly you realize that maybe he never really loved you at all.”

Merlin didn’t realize he was crying until a teardrop splashed against his wrist. He hurriedly wiped his eyes.

Eleanor noticed his reaction and her expression softened minutely. She took her seat once more.

“But after everything you still love him,” She continued softly. “Even as the light leaves his eyes and he goes limp in your arms. Even as the poison you gave him drips from his lips and you wish you could’ve said goodbye instead of ‘I’m sorry.’”

Merlin was shaking.

“So forgive me, Merlin, if I’m a little bit on edge,” Eleanor said with a painfully fake smile. “It’s not every day I have to kill the love of my life.”

“Eleanor, I-“ Merlin tried to say something, but the sound died in his throat.

“Now,” Eleanor said, rising from her seat and coming to stand directly in front of Merlin. “Look me in the eye and tell me that I would’ve done this if I had any other choice.”

Merlin could find no answer. What could he say to that? What could he possibly say that wouldn’t fall flat next to everything Eleanor had been through?

“I’m so sorry,” was what he went with.

Arthur had been gone for 10 minutes.

Chapter Text

“Right, here’s what-! Uh...?”

Arthur entered with a very matter-of-fact attitude about him, eyebrows furrowed and seemingly prepared to explain to the other three exactly what had gone down; however, upon noticing the dramatically different energy in the room, he opted to stop himself momentarily.

He was still in his outfit from the banquet, with a new addition in the form of a sword strapped to his hip.

Arthur’s eyes passed from Merlin to Sam to Eleanor and back to Merlin, expression caught between concerned and calculating.

“Merlin?” He asked with a confused half smile. Noting the silence, he reached behind him to close the door as quietly as possible.

Merlin tried his best to look cheerful. Despite the slightly worrying amount of practice he’d had, it wasn’t enough to fool Arthur. It never was.

“Sorry. We’ve just had a lot to talk about up here.” He managed to say, offering up an unconvincing smile.

“It would seem so,” Arthur said hesitantly. He lingered by the door for a few seconds longer before crossing the room to stand by the table where everyone else was sat. A single chair on Merlin’s side of the table was empty.

“May I sit?” He asked, addressing Eleanor. She raised her eyebrows and let out a soft laugh.

“It’s your room, isn’t it?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Arthur admitted. He lowered himself beside Merlin.

Eleanor smiled politely and let her eyes fall back to the table.

Merlin winced. Arthur was the crux of nearly every issue Eleanor had at the moment. He represented exactly what she had lost; surely nothing he could say would make any sort of difference.

Arthur, however, was nothing if not stubborn. Stubborn, and with a heart that was sometimes a bit too forgiving.

The prince inclined his head a bit and smiled gently.

“I’d like to thank you, Eleanor.”

In response, Eleanor’s head shot up and sent one of her ribbons drifting gently towards the floor. Merlin had a similar reaction. Minus the ribbon, of course.

“What?”

Eleanor looked at Sam as if waiting for him to reveal the joke. Sam, however, just grinned.

Arthur shrugged and fixed her with one of his gentler smiles.

“You saved my life, didn’t you?”

Merlin bit back the flash of anger that reared up reflexively at that. She didn’t do anything wrong, he reminded himself.

She put Arthur’s life in danger, a less helpful voice chimed in.

Merlin chose to ignore that input.

Eleanor’s eyes were perfect circles, and a hesitant smile was blooming on her face as she looked back at Arthur confusedly.

“I s’pose, but-“

“Am I correct in assuming that Lillian was behind this?” Arthur interrupted.

“Yes.”

“Am I, then, also correct that you never had any intention of letting me drink from that goblet?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have nothing to fear,” Arthur assured her. “No harm will come to you. I give you my word.”

“Thank you,” Eleanor said, allowing herself a fully uninhibited smile. She glanced over at Merlin for a split second with a strange tilt to her expression. It almost looked like fear.

Fear? Merlin thought. Why would she be afraid?

Then it hit him.

Eleanor was afraid he would seek revenge.

Either for endangering Arthur or not coming forward or hiding the plot from them, it didn’t matter which.

Merlin stared for a second and silently willed her to look back over. When he finally caught her eye, he inclined his head and nodded, offering her the most sincere smile he could manage.

She seemed to understand, and pure relief registered in the small nod she gave him in return.

“Aldith has cut ties with Camelot and insisted she’ll never return,” Arthur finally said, answering the question that had followed him since he first left the room. “It’s quite the blow to my Father’s reputation, but at the very least Aldith doesn’t seem interested in making an enemy out of Camelot. I believe we’ll all get through this mess just fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Sam chuckled, and kicked his feet up onto Arthur’s table. “Frankly, I was expecting her to poison one of your knights in retaliation.”

Eleanor snorted.

“Ah, no,” Arthur grinned, although it was more of a grimace.

Merlin snickered. Arthur hated feet on his table.

Interestingly, the prince managed to bite back the barrage of scathing remarks that were no doubt on the tip of his tongue in the interest of keeping things civil.

Arthur cleared his throat and pointedly tore his gaze away from the boots soiling his perfectly pristine table.

“It was quite a boring meeting, honestly,” He laughed. “Aldith yelled and my father responded by yelling twice as loud. Her Majesty is well on her way home by now.”

Merlin let himself smile. The tenseness in the room was dissolving by the second, leaving in its wake the comfortable friendly energy that he had grown used to in his conversations with Sam and Eleanor.

“However, in happier news, they haven’t the faintest idea who or what caused Lillian’s death.”

Merlin audibly sighed with relief. Eleanor joined him.

“They haven’t stopped looking,” Arthur warned. “If you happen to be found out I can promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. If worst comes to worst, I will escort you out of Camelot myself.”

“I was willing to be imprisoned or executed but I can’t say I’m not relieved,” Eleanor admitted. “Thank you, Arthur.”

“Of course.” Arthur glanced out the window at the steadily setting sun and cleared his throat suddenly. “It’s getting late. I imagine you both need your rest.”

“Badly.” Sam agreed.

“Thank you again,” Eleanor said, standing and giving Arthur a bow. She looked over at Merlin and smiled. “Both of you.”

Arthur nodded.

Sam and Eleanor linked arms and said their final goodbyes before taking their leave.

Arthur waited a few moments while they cleared the doorframe and remained silent until their footsteps had long since faded.

“So,” The prince began, turning to Merlin. “I need to tell you something.”

Merlin froze.

“What?”

Arthur leaned back in his chair and sighed.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Merlin’s mind was racing. He prayed it didn’t show on his face.

“I didn’t expect this to be so difficult,” Arthur chuckled nervously.

“What?” Merlin said dumbly.

“The first voyage, when I went under the spell,” Arthur began carefully. “I never told you what I saw.”

“Yes, you did,” Merlin frowned. “You said you saw someone you care about walking towards the Siren as if they were enchanted.”

“I never told you who I saw.”

Merlin’s brain short circuited.

“Well, out with it,” He managed to say. “Who was it? I bet it’s probably Sam-“

“You.”

“-since you always act so odd around- what?”

Arthur sighed as if breathing was difficult at the moment.

“I saw you when I was under the spell.”

Chapter Text

To say Merlin was shocked would be inaccurate. “Shocked” implied a lack of understanding that the current outcome was a possibility at all, and brought with it an insinuation that one had been blindsided by how the events had transpired. This wasn’t exactly true. How could it be, given what Francis had said about Arthur and the parallels his own story had with the prince’s, as well as a whole list of other things that Merlin had been chalking up to coincidence or platonic affection.

No, Merlin wasn’t shocked.

Surprised, perhaps, was a better word. Yes, that was it. This was always a possibility that Merlin had entertained, whether conciously or subconsciously. To learn that it was the actual truth, however, had taken him aback.

One would be surprised if it rained during a drought.

One would be shocked if a tsunami wiped out their house.

Merlin was surprised.

Arthur was shocked.

His eyes scanned Merlin’s face frantically for any sort of reaction, expression caught between hurt and confusion.

“You didn’t know?” He breathed, his voice heavy with a specific sort of sorrow that he reserved for only his darkest days.

Merlin winced. He wanted to explain that he wasn’t exactly clueless about things, but the look on Arthur’s face had essentially rendered him mute.

The prince’s eyes lingered on Merlin for a few moments more before he turned and sank into a nearby chair. He leaned forward, brow furrowed and eyes downcast.

“It’s alright, you know,” Arthur said quietly, allowing himself to glance up at Merlin. “I won’t hold it against you if you-“

“Hang on!” Merlin interjected.

Arthur’s jaw snapped shut and his eyebrows shot up.

“I haven’t said anything yet,” Merlin pointed out carefully. His thoughts had begun to slow, finally allowing him to relax.

It’s only Arthur, he told himself.

Nothing is different, so don’t act like anything is different.

Arthur was watching him with a guarded look on his face, seemingly unable to decipher what Merlin’s words had implied.

“I took your silence as your reaction,” He said slowly.

“Well, you aren’t always the brightest, are you?” Merlin shrugged.

Arthur nearly smiled but his pride kept him from a full-fledged grin.

“Alright, then. Say your piece.”

Merlin nodded and slid into the seat across from Arthur. He took a deep breath.

If things were to continue down this route, he’d have to come clean.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

Arthur frowned but remained silent.

“The first voyage,” Merlin began. “I told you that you didn’t say anything when you were under the spell.”

Arthur cocked an eyebrow.

“And?”

“And that was a lie.”

Arthur took a moment to let this sink in. His brow furrowed slightly and his eyes fixed themselves on a point somewhere above Merlin’s head, focused and calculating.

Merlin’s throat felt tight.

“Alright,” The prince announced after a minute. “Anything else?”

Merlin laughed nervously but stopped when he realized Arthur was serious.

“I- uh, aren’t you angry with me?”

“Not particularly, no,” Arthur shrugged. A soft grin curled across his lips and he tilted his head in what could almost be interpreted as a challenge. “Would you prefer that I was?”

“No, thanks,” Merlin said quickly.

“I understand why you hid it from me, you know.”

“You do?”

“Of course.” The prince let out a short laugh and pointed at himself as if that were all the evidence one needed. Merlin supposed he might have a point.

“You saw how I reacted when Francis finally opened my eyes to the whole thing; I can’t imagine it would’ve gone any better had you decided to mention that I’d wailed your name under a Siren’s spell as well.”

“You’re probably right.”

Then, after a moment of further thought:

“Hang on, I never mentioned that you said my name at all.”

“What other name would I have said?” Arthur drawled as if Merlin were stupid.

At the moment, Merlin felt as though he might be right.

“Oh.”

Arthur chuckled softly and fell silent, accenting his amusement with an eye roll.

Merlin’s thoughts began to wander.

This was certainly a lot to process, but he still felt a strange sense of peace and reassurance, as if everything had been meant to work out like this from the very beginning. Everything had been building to this moment, and Merlin found that he was mostly ready for it.

Something, however, still pricked at the back of his mind.

He thought of the sentiment both Lillian and Eleanor had echoed; that Merlin would do anything for Arthur, even to the point of cruelty.

He didn’t know if it was true or not, a fact which frightened him even more than any absolute ever could.

Its presence in his head, whether accurate or not, brought about an even scarier question, one which Merlin found himself afraid to answer.

Would that change how Arthur saw him?

Merlin found it slightly difficult to breathe once again.

He was being irrational, he knew.

But that fact didn’t stop him worrying.

Noticing the look on his face, Arthur leaned forward and frowned.

“Something’s bothering you.”

Merlin pasted on a grin and waved a hand dismissively.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry.”

Arthur rolled his eyes again and scoffed.

“I’m not stupid, despite what you may believe. I know that look.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Merlin insisted. “You just act like it.”

“Then you should know there’s no point in lying to me.”

“It’s rather complicated to explain.”

“Try me.”

Merlin sighed. Arthur was right, for once. He couldn’t exactly keep an internal dilemma about whether or not he was a good person hidden from Arthur for long.

“Eleanor and Lillian both said something to me awhile back, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” He began uneasily.

“Oh?”

Merlin sighed. This was more difficult than he thought.

“Lillian told me of her plan to keep Eleanor safe from fate by endangering you, and I begged her to stop. She told me that I would have done the same thing if I were in her place and it was you who was fated to die. I tried not to think about it, but it’s true. I would’ve done anything to stop something like that.”

Arthur nodded, listening intently.

“Then, when Eleanor was up here while we waited for you to come back from the counsel meeting, I got furious with her. I told her she shouldn’t have endangered you like that and she told me that I was blinded by my loyalty to you. She told me to imagine that you had done what Lillian did, and as she was talking I-“

Merlin’s voice faded and he took a moment to collect himself. He wouldn’t look at Arthur yet.

“I realized that I understood where Lillian was coming from. And that scares me. A lot.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said softly. “You’re nothing like her.”

“Aren’t I, though?” Merlin laughed humorlessly. “If it ever came down to anyone’s life over yours I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“Perhaps, but you’re forgetting the most important difference between you and her,” Arthur insisted.

“What?”

“Lillian wanted me dead to save Eleanor. Instead of going after Eleanor or killing Lillian or doing something equally cruel to stop it, you decided to save us both.”

“I considered it.”

“But you didn’t,” Arthur replied, chancing a half smile. “It doesn’t matter what you almost did or what you thought about doing. All that matters is what you do.”

“I don’t -“

“Do you honestly think Lillian would have even entertained the idea of keeping us both safe if it could risk Eleanor’s safety? She lied and manipulated and misled all of us to the point of cruelty in order to keep Eleanor alive. You would never do that.”

Arthur crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow as if daring Merlin to object.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I do know.”

Arthur raised a hand cautiously and reached over to place a hand on the back of Merlin’s wrist.

“When Lillian saw that both me and Eleanor had survived, she took that to mean that I had to die. You, on the other hand, would have seen the peace you’d made and protect it at all costs. You wouldn’t immediately ruin it on the off chance that I might be hurt.”

Merlin remained silent.

“You know how I know for certain that you aren’t like her?” Arthur continued easily. His hand felt warm against Merlin’s wrist.

“How?”

“A bad person doesn’t worry about if they’re a bad person or not.”

Merlin laughed.

“Thank you.”

“The same goes for stupid people.”

“Perhaps you ought to worry about that one more.”

Arthur, instead of laughing or replying with an equally snarky retort, just smiled gently.

Merlin found himself mirroring the expression against his will.

“At any rate, I’m glad we’ve sorted everything out,” Merlin announced. “I’ve grown rather tired of the constant dilemmas.”

“We’ve still got one left.” Arthur said, his cheery attitude breaking slightly. At Merlin’s confused look he rolled his eyes.

“My father would disinherit me if he knew I’d developed feelings for a man and he’d execute me if he ever found out that it was YOU.”

Merlin froze.

He, of course, had known that this was coming. Hearing it out loud was quite a different sort of shock, though.

Arthur paled.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever said that out loud before.”

Merlin blinked.

He thought of the first day that he’d met Arthur. There was no destiny then. They weren’t really a servant or a prince, they were just two kids who got off on the wrong foot. He thought of their fight, and how he’d very nearly gotten his head taken off. He thought of the curious look in Arthur’s eye when he prevented the guards from arresting him.

He thought of the look on Arthur’s face when he drank the poisoned chalice for him, and the look on his face when he saw Merlin fall.

He thought of Arthur on the first voyage, with flushed cheeks and wild hair and unbothered laughter. Of the clouds reflected in his eyes and a feeling of eternity. Of smiles and jokes and his own name, spoken softly.

Then, he looked at the Arthur in front of him. The arrogant prince had grown into a strong, intelligent, and truly kind man.

Something clicked.

Arthur sat awaiting judgement, eyes shifting around the room and hands clasped firmly in his lap.

Merlin was still staring when he looked up again.

The prince laughed and ran a hand through his hair nervously.

“I feel as though you owe me some sort of reaction given the fact that I’ve just poured my entire heart out for you.”

Merlin leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the prince’s lips.

When he leaned back, Arthur’s eyes were perfect circles.

“That... works.”

Chapter Text

Uther Pendragon grew sicker and sicker as the years went by. Perhaps it was his age, the countless battles of his youth, or the work of some subtle assassin. Perhaps the hatred in his heart had simply begun to take its toll, quietly reclaiming the host that had cultivated it for years. Whatever the reason for the degradation, the king refused to acknowledge his condition.

Arthur fell into a routine wherein he often cleared his throat a few too many times at meals before interrupting with a sympathetic, “Father, you must let Gaius take a look at you.”

The king remained silent more often than not, taking intermittent sips from his goblet with a futile attempt to conceal the real effort it took.

“He’s right, you know,” Morgana would chime in, attempting to seem aloof despite the line between her eyebrows that betrayed her. “You look ill.”

Uther, if he replied at all, would always say the same thing.

“I will not waste Gaius’s time when I know that I am in perfect health.”

With that, he would stand up, signifying that the conversation was over.

• • •

“I- I didn’t mean to!” Morgana half-screamed, rounding off to face her brother with a hand tentatively outstretched and amber eyes that were filled to the brim with fear.

The lady’s fingertips were smoking. One of her feet was placed slightly behind the other, with her knees slightly bent and her free hand hovering near the hilt of her dagger.

She was preparing to defend herself, Merlin realized. He recognized her stance; Morgana and Arthur never shared a stronger family resemblance than when they were in combat. He looked to Arthur for a reaction but found nothing that he could read clearly. The prince’s eyes were wide. Whether they denoted shock or innocent curiosity, however, was anyone’s guess.

He hoped desperately that this wouldn’t be a repeat of how Arthur had discovered Merlin’s magic. He hoped that the prince felt no betrayal, no fear, no anger.

On the ground lay the unlucky bandit, his chest smoking and the ground beneath him charred in a perfect circle. No one had seen him coming until it was too late. Morgana had panicked, spun around, and reacted out of instinct.

Merlin understood her actions perfectly.

Arthur’s expression was unreadable at the moment, but when he spoke his voice was soft and measured.

“Morgana.”

The Lady’s eyes narrowed; she took another step backwards and let her hand rest on the dagger’s hilt.

“I won’t apologize,” She declared. “I was born with it.”

Merlin took a step towards her but was stopped by Arthur’s hand on his wrist.

“No, let me,” The prince said coolly. “She’s my sister.”

Arthur turned and nodded slowly at Merlin, giving the warlock ample time to notice the small smirk that had settled on his lips.

Relief washed over Merlin. He was smiling.

Morgana still looked like a cornered animal.

“Merlin,” She said, voice softer and with a hint of a tremor. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course we are,” Merlin said earnestly, offering her a small smile.

Morgana turned and noticed Arthur’s expression, which she regarded with a hesitant raise of an eyebrow.

“What’s so amusing? Have you been itching for an excuse to chop my head off?” She snapped.

“What’s amusing, Morgana, is that you still think I’m going to kill you,” Arthur chuckled. He unsheathed his sword and tossed it to the side to accent his point.

“What?” Morgana blinked.

“Morgana,” Arthur said, raising his arms and showing his empty palms to her. “It’s alright.”

Merlin’s heart soared.

Morgana’s eyes shot between Arthur and Merlin, assessing the truth in his statement. Finally, she lowered her hand and sheathed her dagger..

“Not going to tell on me, then?” She quipped. Her voice shook despite the grin she fixed the two men with.

Merlin was smiling so hard his face hurt.

He wasn’t alone anymore.

Arthur rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Merlin?”

Morgana flinched as if that were a cue to behead her then and there. Merlin bounded forward excitedly and held up a hand. Morgana frowned.

“What’s that supposed to-?”

“Blóstmá.”

A little red flower sprouted from mid air and dropped into Merlin’s palm. He looked up at Morgana, beaming with pride.

Morgana didn’t react for a moment, and Merlin wondered briefly if he should’ve picked a more showy display of his magic.

He had little time to explore that thought further, however, as Morgana suddenly lunged forward and trapped him in a bone crushing hug, laughing and crying at the same time.

Merlin locked eyes with Arthur, who was leaning against a tree and failing to keep the small smile from blooming across his lips. There was still a hint of disbelief in his eyes, but any fear or disgust was nonexistent.

“I’ll try not to be offended that you told Arthur before me,” Morgana quipped, releasing Merlin and placing her hands on her hips.

“Well, I didn’t exactly mean to tell him,” Merlin admitted.

Arthur was looking decidedly less comfortable now.

“That’s a story for another time,” He muttered guiltily.

Morgana whipped around to face Merlin with a gleeful expression.

“Story. Now.”

• • •

Arthur had never told Uther anything about Merlin. If the king ever noticed that his son’s manservant scarcely seemed to return to his own quarters anymore he made no mention of it. This, both Merlin and Arthur agreed, was for the best.

“I imagine he doesn’t care so long as the people don’t get wind of it,” Merlin remarked one day. Arthur had dragged him out on yet another hunting trip, which was becoming a more and more frequent occurrence as Uther’s health deteriorated.

Arthur snorted in response and kept walking.

“What was that for?” Merlin asked, struggling to keep up with his pace. One thing was for certain, no amount of romance could keep Arthur from practically sprinting through the woods on hunting trips. Not everyone had decades of stealth training under their belt, but of course, the prince thought nothing of that.

“That was because you have predictably misjudged my father’s priorities.” Arthur hopped deftly over a fallen tree that was twice his height, leaving Merlin to scramble his way over the top in twice the time and with half the grace.

“Have I?” Merlin paused when he reached the top of the log, opting to take a seat and breathe for a few moments.

Up ahead, Arthur finally came to a halt. He turned halfway, a wry smile on his lips.

“My father doesn’t care about what the people think; they could starve and he wouldn’t lose a second of sleep.”

Merlin found he couldn’t disagree.

“His fear,” Arthur continued, taking a few steps back towards Merlin and extending a hand to help him down. “Is that Camelot’s enemies will see me as a weak successor to his throne.”

Merlin accepted his hand and hopped down from the log.

“Weak? Why?”

“Inability to produce heirs, mainly.” Arthur shrugged. Then, with a quick grin. “Or rather, the unwillingness to produce heirs.”

He gave Merlin a pat on the shoulder and set off again at what seemed to be an even brisker pace than before.

“Well, anyone who equates having children with worthiness doesn’t seem like someone worth listening to,” Merlin remarked, carefully picking his way around an unusually thorny bush.

“I’m sure they’ll keep that in mind when they’re invading Camelot.”

“What they really ought to keep in mind is that you’re under the protection of the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth.”

Arthur waved a hand over his shoulder and kept walking.

“I’ll pass the compliment along to Morgana.”

• • •

Merlin stood by the prince for the next few years, listening to him and whispering comforting words in his ear when his father grew especially cruel. At night, when the world was dark and nothing else existed but the two of them, Merlin would draw him close and talk about the beautiful future that was certain to come for the both of them. Arthur would listen, despite not fully believing him.

At last, the day Arthur had been dreading for years dawned bright and sunny and everything changed in an instant.

When Morgana burst into the prince’s chambers that morning with tear-stained cheeks and haunted eyes, Arthur knew before she had a chance to speak.

“Where is he?” He asked, voice breaking.

“His chambers,” Morgana replied. She hovered in the doorway for a moment, eyes traveling between Arthur’s stony face and the handkerchief she held gently in her hands.

Merlin moved to the prince’s side, laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently whilst still attempting to process the news himself.

“It isn’t traditional, but-” Morgana began, voice catching before she could finish. She took a deep breath and crossed the room slowly to stand in front of Arthur’s desk. Carefully, she unwrapped the handkerchief and revealed its contents: a ring, bearing the Pendragon crest.

“I know you’d normally get this later, but I felt as though you should have it now.”

Arthur picked up the ring as if it were made of solid gold, inspecting every angle and turning it over in his fingers delicately. Something in his eyes softened, and a tear escaped his eye.

“Thank you, Morgana.”

• • •

The streets of Camelot were silent that night.

Arthur was up before the sun most days the next month, furiously scribbling away at a scroll and wiping his eyes intermittently. Merlin sat quietly beside him, resting a hand on his and offering input where he felt it was needed.

Finally, Arthur looked over at Merlin and half-smiled.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He gestured to the parchment. “You should be the first to sign it.”

• • •

“Pardon?”

Morgana laughed, but her usual sharpness was gone, replaced by complete and utter disbelief. Gwen stood by her side, mouth agape.

When Arthur didn’t retract the hand that held the parchment, Morgana laughed again.

“You’re serious?” She demanded with narrowed eyes. “Is it treason to call you a liar now that you’re the king? Or was that rule specific to our father?”

“I’m serious,” Arthur grinned. “I thought perhaps you might like to sign it.”

“Seriously? You haven’t got Leon around the corner waiting to arrest me?” She tried to look over Arthur’s shoulder, eyes traveling down the hallway suspiciously.

“I already checked,” Merlin assured her.

He was only half-joking, in all honesty.

“In that case, I would be honored.”

Morgana beamed and accepted the quill and parchment.

When she had finished her elaborate signature, Arthur looked over at Gwen expectantly. Her eyebrows shot up.

“Me? What did I have to do with any of this?”

Merlin laughed.

“You’re the most deserving of us all to sign it.”

“I’m not quite sure that’s true,” She insisted. “I haven’t done anything but-”

“Gwen, you are the only reason any of us are here today,” Morgana interjected, taking her hands in her own. “Without you, Arthur would’ve gotten us all killed by now.”

Merlin took the scroll from Arthur and extended it to Gwen before the King could think of a snarky retort.

Gwen bowed her head and accepted the quill, failing to conceal the massive smile that bloomed across her face.

• • •

“It is certainly a radical first order, sire,” Gaius said, a slight tremble in his voice as he read over the scroll. “But why did you feel the need to bring it to me first?”

“I’d like you to sign it.”

Arthur extended a quill to him, smiling warmly. Merlin stood beside him, grinning so hard it nearly hurt.

Gaius’s eyes doubled in size. He nodded, incapable of speech.

• • •

“Well, young warlock. It seems as though all that was foretold has come to pass.”

The Great Dragon’s eyes were lit up with pride. That is, as much pride as dragons’ eyes can display.

The field just outside Camelot was lush with flowers that had been planted the year before; a telltale patch in the middle had been flattened over time from the dragon’s frequent visits. Arthur, standing a few careful yards away, looked as if he’d just started to realize that these visits were normal on Merlin’s part.

“Thank you, Kilgharrah.” Merlin was beaming; several months had passed without talking to the dragon and he’d found he missed their conversations terribly.

Kilgharrah bowed his head and pulled his lips back into something resembling a grin.

“Never in all my years did I think I’d get the chance to meet the young Pendragon. Particularly, I will admit, in such a friendly setting.”

He turned his grin towards Arthur, whose hand instinctively flew to his sword. At Merlin’s stern look, he forcibly dropped his guard.

“Hello, Great Dragon.”

“Awfully formal of you, isn’t it?” Merlin snickered.

“I do not blame him for his hesitation, Merlin,” Kilgharrah chuckled.

“The last time I saw you, you were burning my kingdom down and slaughtering my men,” Arthur replied coldly. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Ah, the mistakes of our youth. I was so frivolous back then,” The dragon purred. “I wish to extend my most humble apologies for any harm I may have caused.”

Kilgharrah didn’t look very sorry, but Merlin wasn’t going to waste any brain power on worrying about it. Worst case, Merlin would always be there to order him to leave should he ever feel nostalgic and start attacking the city.

“You’re forgiven.” Arthur forced himself to say.

“I presume my invitation to your coronation was merely overlooked?” Kilgharrah grinned again, likely enjoying the visible discomfort it put Arthur in.

“Ah, no, sorry.” Merlin admitted. “I wanted to invite you but you wouldn’t fit in the castle door.”

“Pity,” The dragon chuckled. “I suppose burning down the Castle isn’t a palatable solution, is it?”

“It isn’t.” Arthur snapped. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh, my dear Pendragon,” Kilgharrah grinned. “I’ve been thinking about it for hundreds of years and I’ve no intention of stopping.”

• • •

Every sorcerer in Camelot was hesitant to believe the news until the king’s servant stepped out into the citadel and sent a horde of blue butterflies fluttering into the sky from his fingertips, a trail of gold sparkles behind each and every one. Those who were unconvinced were quickly won over when the Lady Morgana raised her hands and conjured a battalion of her own butterflies.

Over the next few minutes, more displays from all over Camelot began to float up to join them. Among the countless conjurations were birds, iridescent orbs, fireballs, and even a few small woodland creatures who were less than keen on being flung into the air. The sky was a teeming mass of color and light, with the joyous cheering of the sorcerers below accenting its beauty perfectly.

“It seems as though your decision was well-received, my lord.” Merlin nudged the king’s arm and grinned.

A group of children ran by, little arms outstretched as they chased after a stray butterfly.

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes.

“It’s been far too long since I’ve been able to feel like this.”

Merlin frowned.

“Like what?”

“Relieved,” Arthur replied. “For the first time in years, I am certain that what we’ve done is right.”

• • •

“Merlin?”

Merlin narrowly avoided being cracked in the head as the door to the king’s chambers swung open inches from his face.

Arthur winced.

“Sorry.”

“Good morning, darling,” Merlin drawled. “Did you need something in particular or were you just looking to bash my head in?”

“Bit of both,” Arthur shrugged. He looped an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and guided him to the window. “Take a look down there for me.”

Merlin looked out of the window for a few seconds but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He frowned.

“What am I meant to see?”

Arthur grinned and pointed down at the street.

“Were you aware that your mother was coming to visit?”

Merlin looked down, and sure enough, Hunith was carefully picking her way through the crowd in the citadel. Elyan and Gwen walked on either side of her, chattering excitedly.

“She’s early,” Merlin chuckled. “She must have gotten excited.”

Arthur’s grin disappeared and was replaced with confusion.

“Excited for WHAT, exactly?”

“Why, seeing her only son of course!” Merlin lied. “Honestly, it’s like you forget that I’m a joy to be around.”

“I never forget,” Arthur insisted, planting a kiss on his cheek and looking content to drop the subject. That was, until he noticed the second group making their way through the streets.

“Is that Francis and Allard?” Arthur demanded, shooting Merlin a suspicious glance.

Francis and Allard were being halfway dragged through the streets by Morgana, who was talking at the speed of light. She kept pointing up at windows as they passed, likely giving them a brief tour. Lancelot followed behind them, looking exasperated.

Merlin sighed.

“Alright, you caught me.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“It’s sorcery appreciation day,” Merlin said.

Arthur blinked.

“What?”

“It’s sorcery appreciation day,” Merlin repeated. “Unofficially, of course. Only sorcerers knew about it until now. Naturally, given the whole ‘magic being illegal’ situation. They’re all here to appreciate… sorcery?”

For a moment, Arthur just stared.

Well, Merlin thought. It was worth a try.

“Alright, fine, you-”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Arthur exclaimed suddenly. “I’ll make it official! I’ll get to the counsel chambers and have it signed within the hour.”

Before Merlin could get another word in, the king had rushed out of the chambers and disappeared down the hall.

I’m an idiot, Merlin thought to himself. But then again, so is Arthur.

• • •

Nobody was surprised when Merlin proposed.

Nobody, that is, save for Arthur.

Gwaine was in charge of getting him to the location in the first place, something which proved to be exceptionally difficult given the king’s inherent distrust of Gwaine’s sense of direction. Morgana was in charge of securing a safe (and discreet) passage for Sam and Eleanor, as well as making up excuses for why Merlin and Arthur’s friends kept on showing up to Camelot in droves. Lastly, Gwen had been placed in charge of procuring a ring, a task which she had undertaken with such speed and enthusiasm that Merlin wondered if she’d actually had the ring for years.

“Sometimes I forget you’re a blacksmith,” Merlin mused, turning the ring over in his fingers carefully.

“Blacksmith‘s daughter,” Gwen corrected.

“Blacksmith,” Merlin insisted, holding up the ring. “Look at this! That’s not the work of an apprentice.”

Gwen smiled and waved a hand dismissively.

“Thank you. I only hope Arthur feels the same.”

Merlin laughed and clapped a hand on her shoulder.

“He may be an ass, but even he has an eye for beautiful things.”

“That’s news to me,” Gwen said earnestly. “Did you see the dress he got Morgana for her birthday last year?”

• • •

When Merlin and Arthur returned from their most recent hunting trip, rumors began to fly about a potential separation of the king and his lover. This was fueled mainly by the look on the king’s face as he rode back into town, which the people described as “enraged,” “furious,” or even “murderous.” This, however, was not the expression of a man falling out of love, but rather a man who had already procured a ring of his own and had been planning an elaborate proposal for weeks, only to have his partner beat him to the punch.

The news of the engagement was received with equal parts joy and genuine relief.

“The way Arthur looked,” Morgana had remarked. “I thought magic was about to get outlawed again.”

• • •

Merlin really hated ceremonial clothing. It was itchy and stiff and impossible to move in. He did appreciate the fancy cape, however.

“You look great,” Arthur had assured him.

“I look like you,” Merlin had corrected.

“A vast improvement, as I’m sure you’ll agree.”

Currently, Merlin was trying to prepare himself to address the crowd. This was his first public address since Arthur had officially announced their relationship, and he was finding it difficult to swallow his nerves. Fleeting memories of rotten tomatoes soaring at his face kept fading in and out of focus.

Making things especially difficult, however, was Kilgharrah. He had insisted upon attending Merlin’s coronation and was currently sitting in the middle of the citadel like an oversized dog with a huge grin on his face. Despite the large number of people in the crowd, the dragon was afforded at least ten feet of free space on all sides. The villagers remembered the carnage from his last visit and were not keen to share the citadel with him despite the King’s reassurance that he was under Merlin’s orders.

Less easily frightened, however, were the children. Any child who could walk by themselves had nestled themselves on top of Kilgarrah’s head, back, and tail; and the braver few had wiggled between his claws and were using them as arm rests. Kilgarrah didn’t seem to mind, but the childrens’ parents certainly did. The Great Dragon seemed less keen on actually harming anyone and was, in fact, more content to enjoy the discomfort of those who were afraid he might.

Morgana, Gwen, Sam, Eleanor, Francis, Allard, and Hunith made up the front row. Already having been carted in for the engagement celebrations and then the wedding, they had all opted to stay for Merlin’s coronation as well. Hunith and Gwen were crying, and the rest just seemed content to clap and cheer louder than anybody else.

Arthur finally began to speak, his voice calm and measured and his words well-practiced. Merlin wasn’t listening, as usual. As the King droned on with his formal introductions and logistics, Merlin watched a small child attempt to lodge a deer antler from between Kilgharrah’s teeth. The mother, assumedly, was waving her arms madly and begging the child to stop.

When the dragon shook his head slightly and sent a child tumbling to the ground, Morgana waved a hand and sent the boy sailing back the other direction. He plopped down onto the dragon’s forehead and waved a little hand appreciatively. Morgana waved back, grinning ear to ear.

“As this is a first for Camelot,” Arthur continued steadily, unfazed by the commotion. “We understand that this will be a transitional period for the kingdom; as such, we have thought long and hard about what my husband’s title and position will be.”

That’s my cue, Merlin thought. Here goes nothing.

“My title will honor the traditions of the past that fell into obscurity under the reign of Uther Pendragon,” He announced, trying his best to mimic the King’s easygoing but authoritative tone. “It will represent the reunification of Camelot with its magically-inclined people, speak to the progress we have made in a few short years, and reinstate a position in court that will remain for generations to come.”

The crowd cheered, unsure of what was happening just yet but proving to be incredibly excited nonetheless. Kilgharrah let a thin wisp of smoke puff from his nostrils; whether this was a show of excitement or further attempt to unnerve the guests was anyone’s guess.

Merlin smiled. Arthur reached over and punched him in the arm, a small grin on his face.

The cheers grew ever louder when Geoffrey stepped out onto the balcony, wearing ceremonial robes and carrying a little book in his hands that had not seen the light of day for decades.

“Are you ready, my lords?” Geoffrey smiled warmly.

Arthur nodded and looked to Merlin for his answer.

“I’m ready,” Merlin replied, not bothering to fight the grin that refused to leave his lips. Arthur was as stoic as he’d always been taught to appear in public, but the lightheartedness in his eyes was unmistakable.

Geoffrey positioned himself behind Merlin and instructed him to kneel on the little blue pillow before him. It had been moved out to the balcony last minute, per Arthur’s request for a more public coronation. (Arthur insisted that this had nothing to do with Kilgharrah, but anyone could see that this wasn’t quite true.)

“Do you, Merlin, swear to serve Camelot?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to respect her people?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to uphold her laws?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to defend her from threats in any form?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear your loyalty to the King?”

“Absolutely not.”

Geoffrey coughed.

“Uh, my lord?”

Merlin groaned.

“Fine. Yes, yes I do.”

Arthur covered his face with a hand and cursed under his breath.

Geoffrey cleared his throat and tried to compose himself.

“Then I crown you Merlin, King’s Consort and Court Sorcerer of Camelot.”

The crowd, which had fallen dead silent, immediately broke into raucous cheering and screaming. Magical sparks were sent up into the sky from all directions. Kilgharrah lowered his head to let the children off before facing the sky and sending a blast of fire cascading through the air.

The children screeched with glee and their parents soon joined in, albeit with a vastly different emotion behind the screams.

Arthur turned and pulled Merlin into an embrace, trying and failing to disguise the proud tears that had begun to fill his eyes.

Merlin would have teased him for it if his own eyes were any less misty.

• • •

For all of Merlin’s past bad experiences with banquets, this one was turning out to be rather nice. No elaborate murders, siren carcasses, or condescension to be found. The air was warm and smelled of roast and garlic, and the mead was cold and sweeter than honey.

Hunith sat on Merlin’s left, Arthur on his right. Morgana sat on Arthur’s right, sporting a gorgeous green gown that she claimed to have commissioned for Arthur’s wedding feast the first day she’d met Merlin. She also claimed those events were strictly unrelated, though nobody believed her.

Gwen was next to Morgana, leaning her head on her fist and listening to her as if there was no one else in the room.

Merlin nudged Arthur.

“Do you think-?”

The king glanced over lazily and grinned.

“Yes.”

Sam and Eleanor took the seats to Gwen’s right while Francis and Allard occupied the ones to Hunith’s left.

Francis and Allard looked as though they were about to cry the entire time, stemming mainly from Hunith’s impressive commitment to being a good mother to anyone who crossed her path, not just her own son.

“It’s a bit far but I reckon I could pop over and teach you,” She was saying to Francis. “Stew really isn’t that difficult once you understand the basics.”

Francis nodded enthusiastically, already halfway to tears.

“Oh, don’t bother. We’d be happy to make the trip to Ealdor,” Allard cut in. “I’ve heard it’s lovely and we’ve never been.”

“Lovely? That’s quite generous. The PEOPLE are lovely, though. Oh, they’d just adore you two.”

Francis leaned over and hugged her, sniffling into her shoulder.

“There, there,” She said, giving him a pat on the back. “I know how difficult cooking is.”

Merlin chuckled and turned to the other side of the table.

“Dear God, they’ve really let this place go since we were last here,” Eleanor declared with faux outrage. “They’re even letting the servants eat at the tables; that’s simply outrageous.”

“We missed you too, Eleanor,” Merlin laughed.

Eleanor was wearing a Captain’s uniform; however she had opted to ditch the hat and let her hair down. Blue and white ribbons were woven into little braids all over her head, matching her uniform perfectly and achieving a particularly beautiful effect. Sam was beside her, looking happier and healthier than Merlin had ever seen him.

“So, King’s Consort? They couldn’t have just called you the Queen?” He teased.

“Absolutely not!” Morgana chimed in. “That title is reserved for me when I finally get around to pushing Arthur down the stairs.”

“Ah, smart,” Eleanor nodded solemnly.

“Can you be King’s Consort if there’s no king?” Sam wondered aloud.

“Perhaps you’d just be ‘The Consort,’” Gwen offered.

“That’s good,” Merlin insisted. “But I think I’d be ‘The Dead King’s Consort.’”

“You’re right,” Gwen conceded. “That makes much more sense.”

“The ‘Former King’s Consort?’” Eleanor suggested.

“Well, that makes him sound like he’s no longer King’s Consort,” Sam pointed out. “He’s still got the title, he just hasn’t got the King.”

“Consort of the Former King!” Morgana cried.

The table murmured their agreement. Yes, they all agreed. Consort of the Former King.

“I think I prefer the dragon to this,” Arthur muttered.

• • •

The night dragged on and the guests became more and more rowdy as the mead continued to flow. However, Arthur still had yet to take a single sip, which struck Merlin as odd before he followed the King’s eye and found it trained on Eleanor. She sat two spaces to his left, in the exact position that Lillian had been in all those years ago.

Deciding his next move quickly, Merlin reached over and snatched Arthur’s goblet away.

Arthur turned and scarcely had time to bite back the nasty comment before Merlin downed half the goblet in one gulp.

“You can hardly blame me,” Merlin insisted with a grin. “We’ve been married for a week; it makes sense I’d be driven to drink by now.”

“You know, there are some who would kill to be in the position you’re in.”

“Would they? Well, I invite them to try.”

Merlin waved a hand and sent a few drops of the mead splashing into Arthur’s face to accent his point.

Arthur closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Is it working?”

Merlin placed the goblet back down at Arthur’s spot. The king’s hand moved to pick it back up but hesitated. Finally, he raised the goblet gingerly to his lips and took a small sip. He closed his eyes again.

“Yes.”

Merlin nodded, allowing himself to relax.

The scars of the past would never fully leave; Merlin knew. However, he had no intent of allowing them to control him or anyone he loved any longer.

Arthur rose to his feet and raised his goblet high.

“To the new King’s Consort, Court Sorcerer, and love of my life.”

He looked to the left and smiled softly.

“To Merlin.”

“To Merlin!” The crowd echoed.