#arthur and gwaine friendship

[dont-let-me-eat-pears]

aside from them never letting anyone who was in on merlin's secret live for long, i feel like the writers knew they couldn't allow lancelot to continue hanging around being merlin's kindest, purest, most supportive and loyal and protective friend because he made arthur look pretty bad by comparison.

[emrys-merlin]

There's a beloved headcanon that Gwaine always knew about Merlin’s magic, and damn, i want to believe it 😞 or at least suspected it.

He literally brought Merlin to the Valley of the Fallen Kings, to the Crystal Cave, in order to retrieve something Merlin claimed would keep him safe in the middle of bandit infested lands.

Gwaine asked no questions and returned to Arthur for the final battle. He either trusted Merlin was on his way to gather a immensely powerful item or had magic. Nothing else could possible make sense.

I don’t know, i just want to believe it because i’m so sad that Gwaine died without knowing it :(

Also, i admit it....i don't like this new fandom headcanon that if Gwaine ever found out about Merlin’s magic he would've betrayed him. Because his loyalty/duty to Arthur is > Merlin's friendship. Nope. This is not Gwaine.

Of course Gwaine is loyal to Arthur. Of course Gwaine cares for Arthur. He's his King. But his loyalty to Arthur wasn't greater than his precious friendship to Merlin. No idea why do people believe that.

It doesn’t matter what Gwaine think about magic and i don’t really care. Gwaine adored Merlin, he would never have done anything to hurt him. He would never have betrayed him.  Not even for the King. Exactly like Lancelot, another loyal knight. Gwaine choosing Merlin over Arthur is not a bad thing and it is not unfair to Arthur

They are bestie. Nothing can change my mind.

Btw, Eoin Macken once said that Gwaine had an “unrequited love” for Merlin ❤ I love this man.

[mytragedyperson]

 Chapters: 18/18 Fandom: Merlin (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Merlin & Mordred (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Knights of the Round Table & Merlin (Merlin) Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Mordred (Merlin), Gwaine (Merlin), Percival (Merlin), Leon (Merlin), Elyan (Merlin), Gaius (Merlin) Additional Tags: Friendship, Humor, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mordred gets his wish, and some days wishes he didn't, but he is an adorable bean, Merlin is a Little Shit, that doesn't seem to realize Emrys is supposed to be dignified and refined, and not tease poor innocent druid friends, Mordred informs him, Merlin refuses to learn, the knights are along for the ride, Arthur at one point was delusional enough to believe he actually had any control over the situation, Not Anymore, That point has long since passed Series: Part 2 of The Beginning of the (Fri)end Summary:

Merlin had thought he didn’t know what he was getting into when he cleared the air and agreed to stop hating Mordred, but it turned out the knight, not the warlock, was the one who was completely unprepared for what it would mean to be considered Merlin’s friend.

Behold the fic I was talking about before for anyone who wants some Mordred and Merlin friendship, a little angst, and someone bluntly telling Arthur he needs to appreciate Merlin more. My personal favourite chapters are chapter 6: Galavant Rides, Chapter 11: Dwarves vs Giants, and chapter 17: No one but you. But this entire fic is just really nice to read, like I don’t really have comfort fics but I feel like this would be one, because even when there’s angst, it’s usually resolved quickly and the rest is just Merlin appreciation and the others learning how badass Merlin can be. Also magic reveal last chapter. This is a Merlin fic after all. 

@nefertitiasakura

[carinims01]

I’m just imaging a modern day reincarnation fic where Merlin just says continuously unhinged things around Arthur and the knights. Mostly based on ABC’s Forever. Examples include:

• after some scary happening - “this is nothing like falling off a dragon’s back mid-flight.”

• “Please, I’d rather be stabbed in the kidneys. And that’s speaking from experience.”

• “I could list the worst ways to die, in my personal experience.”

Please feel free to add more.

[magicalsniper]

My @kinkalot bingo card above, and the links and summaries to my first three fills.

3. The Curse of True Love Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Gwaine (temp), Merlin/Lancelot (temp) Prompt: Magic Made Them Do It Summary

Merlin unknowingly uses magic to outwit a sorcerer in a dice game, and in retaliation, the sorcerer curses him. He must have sex with his true love or die a painful death. Gwaine and Lancelot attempt to help, but their efforts worsen Merlin's condition. Ultimately, it's Arthur who saves him, revealing their true bond.

2. Feasts of Desires Pairings: Merlin/Arthur Prompt: Public Sex

Summary

When a foreign prince visits, their customs throw Merlin for a loop. Expected to show up to the welcome feast in little more than a thong and thin veil, Merlin initially refuses. However, his sense of duty and desire to protect the other servants eventually compels him to comply. Once there, Merlin finds himself caught in the foreign prince's unwanted attention as the feast unfolds. Arthur must navigate the delicate balance of diplomacy and his own feelings to shield Merlin from humiliation, testing the limits of their bond and loyalty to each other.

1. Knightly Delights Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Knights (Gwaine, Leon, Lancelot, Percy, Elyan) Prompt: Watersports Summary

“You know exactly what you are doing,” Arthur growled, his thumb tracing a path down Merlin’s soft jawline. “I’m not that clever, sire,” Merlin replied, husky and suggestive. “I was just trying to—” Arthur silenced him with a kiss. His lips rough and demanding, holding Merlin captive as he claimed his mouth with a fierce passion. Arthur pulled back and whispered against his lips, “If you keep it up, I am going to pull your pants down and spank you until you can’t walk.” “Is that a threat, My Lord?” he whispered back, voice playful. Arthur grinned, his hands leaving Merlin. “No, it’s a promise,” he said, stepping back. “If you continue to distract me and scare off my prey.” Merlin grinned and followed him, giving Lancelot a wink as he caught his eye.

[merlinmagicitself]

Listening to the song "Amigo" by Ataque 77 on the radio on Friendship's Day (July 20th in my country - the same day that I, not-so-coincidentally, started this blog, since I love the way bbc Merlin portrays the value of friendship, brotherhood and loyalty). It immediately made me think of the show. I think it captures the essence of the characters so well.

Now I really want to make a video edit with it haha! If, by any chance, someone happens to make one, please share the link, I would love to watch it!

Here are the lyrics translated into English:

You are my soul brother, truly a friend,

who is always with me on every path without needing a reason why.

Although you are a man, you still have the soul of a child.

The one who gives me his friendship, respect, and affection.

I remember we went through very tough times together,

and you did not change however strong the winds were.

Your heart is a house with open doors.

You are truly the most reliable in uncertain times.

In certain difficult moments in life,

we look for someone to help us find a way out.

And the words of strength and faith you have given me,

give me the certainty that you were always by my side.

You are my soul friend on every journey.

A smile and a festive hug on every arrival.

You speak such great truths with open phrases.

You are truly the most reliable in uncertain times.

I don't even need to say all this,

but it's good to feel

that you are my great friend.

[fluffyspaceball]

Drunk !Gwaine:Merlin is my best friend!

Lancelot: uh I believe you have misspoken my friend. For Merlin is obviously MY best friend

Arthur: Actually you both have misspoken. Merlin is MY manservant therefore he is MY property therefore he is My best friend .

Gwaine : Well I know him the best

Arthur: Well I knew him first

Lancelot : but l was his friend first

Gwaine : because of identity fraud mate

*All of them arguing*

Gwen talking to Merlin : Im your best friend right ?

Merlin : Obviously

[hurts4maya]

After the Barbie film

Gwaine: Arthur is Ken and Merlin is a horse

Leon: Help me

[galadrail]

Merlin fic

Here's a little piece of writing I did last night at 2am about gwaine Arthur and lancelot who all adore merlin

[starkskypines]

when you need someone to love you

it’s been over a year but i am back with a merlin fic! i love this show sm and these silly boys even more. 

>>>

read on ao3

>>>

The winter chill seeps into the castle grounds, into the walls, floor, ceilings, turning every stone into a freezing touchpoint. Arthur finds himself wearing two pairs of socks to bed and he hates wearing socks to bed, but it’s just that cold.

It’s like this every winter season. The castle keeps itself cooled off well enough in the summer months, but when winter comes around, there are not enough fires that could be lit to warm the castle. Though Arthur seems to be the only person in the castle with that complaint. Everyone else seems to find enough fires to warm them.

Arthur only finds that his clothes forever smell like smoke because of how often his room’s fire is lit. The windows have to open to let the smoke out, but it only lets the chill back in. It’s an endless process with no end in sight. Much like how Arthur finds the process of ruling all alone.

He’s not normally alone. Usually, he has his knights and Merlin and Gwen at his side. But this week Merlin and Gwen went to visit Merlin’s mother in the country, and the knights have all gone off to visit someone or another. Arthur can’t honestly remember a time since his father died when everyone has left him.

It makes sense then that while everyone is away, the coldest storm blows in and the nobles cancel the only meeting of the day. Normally Arthur would have no issue with this, hence why he doesn’t push for them to meet anyway as is within his power as King. But today is not a normal day.

Today, Arthur woke from a nightmare where Merlin burns at the stake. It’s been a recurring nightmare ever since Arthur found out about Merlin’s magic. And it doesn’t seem to matter that he repealed the ban on magic, that he appointed Merlin as the Court Sorcerer, the dream still happens.

After speaking with the nobles’ messenger sent to inform the king about the decision to postpone the meeting, Arthur finds himself back in his chambers, curling up with his arms wrapped around his knees in front of the fire he had George light. He pulls a soft blanket off the edge of the nearby chair and wraps it around his shoulders and stares into the fire. He has kingly duties to attend to–this moment of weakness would never be allowed by his father–but Arthur is just so tired and the cold doesn’t help matters.

Arthur remembers when he was younger, he used to love the snow and the chilly days spent in the fluffy precipitation. He’s not sure when that changed. He’s not sure when he went from wearing a simple tunic around the inner castle to a full elegant robe. He’s not sure when the layers became necessary even in the summer months. He’s not sure when the chill settled deep in his bones and only the warmth of a relaxing night with his few friends shakes the chill loose. But it always returns in the morning without fail.

The door to his rooms opens without a knock, and Arthur turns to look over his shoulder at who dares enter the King’s chambers without asking. Arthur’s brow furrows when he sees who it is.

“Gwaine? I thought you weren’t due back until tomorrow.” Arthur pushes himself to his feet, letting the blanket fall to the floor and ignoring the way Gwaine’s eyes track the movement.

“Cold afternoon, Arthur?”

Arthur shrugs because he can’t explain the way his body hungers for warmth to the point of desperation.

read on ao3

[ladyofthelake]

Arthur and Mithian tho they were perfect jfsfjsfdjsa

like can't I live in a world where Gwen/Lancelot were endgame and Arthur/Mithian happened as the romantic subplot

[sneakyboymerlin]

Also, since I’m here: where did the “princess” thing come from, anyway?

Gwaine says one (1) time “Don’t be such a princess” to goad Arthur into doing something in 3x08, and never says anything like it to him again. He’s not buddy-buddy with Arthur, or constantly calling him misogynistic affectionate nicknames. Not all kinds of challenging is friendly banter! The respect between them for their shared values (not so much the unshared ones) does not negate Gwaine and Arthur’s rivalry over their differences in personality, belief, and etiquette (not to mention, both of them are rather hotheaded).

I know it’s common form in fandoms but someone made up the idea that Gwaine calls Arthur “princess,” and now it winds up in just about every fic (and outside of fic) because it’s been accepted as a strange sort of fringe-canon. But why would you purposefully make him more misogynistic than you have to? Just to make him seem closer with Arthur? Get on top of the fridge

Some people don’t seem to get the gist of Gwaine’s character so let me break it down:

Gwaine deciding that Arthur is worth defending as a king and wanting to repay him for saving his life… does not mean that he loves Arthur the way he loves his literal best friend. Gwaine is deeply bound by his sense of morality, and his moral compass points him to Arthur. The anger with which Gwaine responds to threats against Arthur is identical to his response when, say, the Cailleach laughs at the knowledge that innocent people are dying because of her own inaction. Gwaine posits himself as a defender of good, and Arthur proved himself to be “noble” in his eyes. Ergo, he protects Arthur, as he protects civilians.

All in all, there is nothing really personal to their bond, just as there is little personal about Gwaine’s duty to the people of Camelot. Gwaine and Arthur have a begrudging respect for each other, and both have a sense of duty to ensure that the other does not come to harm. This dynamic does not need to be construed as anything other than what it is, but since we have been conditioned to believe that people can only act altruistically given a motive of friendship, romance, or family, their actions are subsequently read as such—contrary to the onscreen evidence.

I cannot stress this enough: this series is based on Arthurian legend. The knights are meant to display chivalry. That is the bond between them.

This differs greatly from Merlin and Gwaine’s dynamic, wherein Gwaine’s attachment does not stem from a sense of duty but, rather, his own personal feelings. He is drawn to Merlin from the start, finds an understanding and emotional support from Merlin that he’s never had with anyone before, and is stunned touched that Merlin hasn’t grown tired of him, despite the burden he’s placed on Merlin’s shoulders since his arrival in Camelot. By contrast, Arthur grew sick of Gwaine… almost immediately, and their dynamic was established as one of mutual duty the moment Arthur said, “He saved my life… He’s to be given anything he needs.” This is very much a discernible difference. An important one, too.

This is the reason that, despite how he is willing to lay down his own life for Arthur as early as 3x04, Gwaine explicitly does not consider him a friend afterwards in 3x08, but does for Merlin.

Furthermore, given Gwaine’s moral code—the very same one he used to judge Arthur as “noble”—Gwaine would indeed side with Merlin over Arthur in the case of a magic reveal (not to mention the fact that Merlin is his friend, he knows that Merlin is good, and he doesn’t want Merlin to be hurt). Gwaine believes that one’s actions determine their goodness, rather than their birth circumstances. Therefore, Merlin being born with magic is not proof that he is corrupt.

Outside of magic reveal scenarios, and despite his sense of duty to Arthur, Gwaine is still shown to put Merlin first. There is nothing wrong with Gwaine placing Merlin above Arthur. It’s not “unfair” to Arthur that Gwaine cares more about Merlin, and it’s not something that needs fixing. Arthur is not entitled to Gwaine’s love or loyalty. It’s beautifully satisfying, both emotionally and narratively, that Gwaine’s loyalty is to a servant first and a king second. That is the entire crux of Gwaine as a character. It is a deliberate choice on the part of the writers, and it’s perfect as is.

[pyjamacryptid]

so like, do you ever think about the similarities between Gwaine and Will (from Ealdor)? And their respective friendship with Merlin? Because, dude, I’ve been thinking about it all week.

These two would've been friends, I'm sure of it.

Gwaine makes the most iconic character introduction of the series, gets stabbed, continues to be a menace, and then he and Merlin bond over their fathers, and lack thereof.

Gwaine is cynical about nobility, especially Kings. As we know, his father was a knight who died in battle in Carleon’s name, and the King repaid his family with nothing.

Then you’ve got Will. Will - the most iconic man from Ealdor, which is a tall order when your mate’s Merlin, Mr “Greatest Sorcerer To Have Ever Walked The Earth” who is also from Ealdor. He greets Merlin like “your kind ain’t welcome here….. lol jk bring it in”, and then immediately squares up with Arthur, who’s kind - as far as Will is concerned - is definitely not welcome here.

Merlin reveals that Will’s issues with Arthur run deeper than how they first appear. Will, too, had a father that died in battle in service to, most likely, a King. The majority of it is inferred to the audience and we’re encouraged to make our own conclusions.

It’s very likely that Will and Gwaine share very similar backgrounds. I’m not sure that Will’s father was a knight, it’s more probable that he was a soldier of some kind and not of noble birth. Regardless of whatever rank he held, there’s overlap: a father was in service to a king, died in service to that king, that king left the family with nothing as thanks, and the son is left a cynic with no trust for people with fancy titles.

Another parallel is that in both 1x10 and 3x04, Will and Gwaine leave. For different reasons, of course. Will leaves because he refuses to fight for Arthur, a noble, and Gwaine leaves because he stood up to “nobles” bullying Merlin and was banished by Uther for it.

And then they both come back, to Merlin’s delight. Will comes back, risking his life, because it’s not about fighting for Arthur; it’s about fighting for Ealdor, his village, and to fight beside Merlin. Gwaine comes back, risking the consequences of his banishment, because he knew Arthur was in danger and Merlin likely would need some help.

But like, do you think Merlin, after Will’s death and since meeting Gwaine, sees these similarities between his two friends? Not just in experiences but personality? We only got one episode with Will, and we met him during a really desperate time, so the guy was probably stressed to the roots of his hair; and it was also after Merlin returned after moving away. So, Will - though happy to see him - was still cross after feeling abandoned. We didn’t get to see more of Will’s personality outside of that, but we know he was fiercely loyal, cynical, considered people’s lives worth more than material wealth or glory, outspoken and unafraid to tell a prince to fuck off, and one for banter (i.e. how he welcomed Merlin home).

Do you think Merlin saw Gwaine’s joking nature, his fierce loyalty, his criticisms of nobility and how he considered titles unimportant compared to who a person was on the inside, and thought of Will?

And, what if Merlin, late at night and lying in bed, thought that - if they’d ever gotten the chance to meet - Gwaine and Will would’ve been good friends.

…. anyway, that’s what’s plagued me for 6 days.

[akelafang]

Arthur: Everyone knows the knights are all more loyal to Merlin than they are to me Merlin: What?! That's not true! Arthur: Name one knight who wasn't your friend before they swore loyalty to me Merlin: Leon Arthur: And yet Leon married Gwaine, the man most likely to lead a coup against me in favor of you. Between his love for Gwaine and his friendship with you, that could sway his allegiance Merlin:... At least if Leon's there to temper Gwaine it'll be a peaceful coup? Gwaine overhearing this and looking at Leon with hopeful puppy-dog eyes. Leon: No I am not overthrowing the king in favor of Merlin with you. Frankly, I'm offended Arthur believes I would. Gwaine: Oh come on! Merlin would be a great king! Leon: I'm not saying he wouldn't be but there are ways to get him into power that would be, shall we say, more beneficial for everyone involved Gwaine: A chroí are you saying what I think you're saying? Leon: How about instead of staging a coup we play matchmaker? Gwaine: Tá tu an cheol mo chroí, this is why I fell in love with you in the first place

I don't speak Irish so if I've used the words wrong please let me know and I'll correct it. I just really love the idea of Gwaine speaking Irish and using Irish endearments for Leon. My (edited, thank you phantomchick) understanding of the translations: A chroí - My heart tá tu an cheol mo chroí - You're the music of my heart

[magicalsniper]

9,832 words | Mature | One-Shot Author's AO3: MagicalSniper Story Link: An Heir is Borne

Summary: Arthur and Guinevere face a crisis when Arthur is found to be sterile, leaving the kingdom without an heir. Desperate, they turn to Merlin, who agrees to help them conceive a child through magic despite his own unrequited love for Arthur. However, little do they know, Merlin plans on leaving Camelot for good once Gwen falls pregnant.

0===][:::::::::::::>

An Heir is Borne

0===][:::::::::::::>

Beneath the starry sky of Arthur’s bed chambers that Merlin had placed one day for a prank but kept because Arthur loved it, Arthur’s hand found Gwen’s in a tremulous grasp. Gwen interlocked their fingers and closed her eyes, pressing her lips to his knuckles and letting out a shaky breath.

“Yet another month passes,” Arthur murmured as if the words were heavy on his tongue. His blue eyes, usually clear and sure, were clouded with sadness and self-doubt. “And still, no heir.”

Gwen sighed softly, shaking her head, her dark curls spilling over her shoulders. “Perhaps it is time to seek Merlin’s help,” she suggested gently. She understood her husband’s hesitance in getting their friend involved, but he might be their last hope. “He would never think ill of us.”

Arthur scoffed, rising from the edge of their bed. “Merlin wouldn’t think ill of us if we put him on a pyre to burn.”

“Maybe, but let’s not test that theory,” Merlin chirped as he entered the room with a large tray. He held the door for George, who was holding another large tray, and for Elisabeth, who was holding the water and wine jugs. He dismissed George and Elisabeth and walked up to the bed to lean against the left front bedpost, an eyebrow raised. “Why am I being put on a pyre?”

Arthur gave Gwen an uncertain look before sighing heavily. “Gwen and I have been trying to have a baby. We’ve yet to be successful.”

“Maybe your soldiers are just as stubborn as you,” Merlin quipped. He then grew serious, his face softening with genuine concern. “How long have you been trying?”

“About six seasons,” Gwen admitted, causing Arthur to wince. Merlin’s face mirrored their concern.

“And your monthly bleed is normal? I imagine so because once a month for like a week, Arthur complains and comp—”

“Shut it!” Arthur snapped, throwing a pillow at Merlin’s head. 

“There are tests we can try,” Merlin said as he caught the pillow and fluffed it before handing it to Gwen to place back on Arthur’s side of the bed. He tilted his head, shaking it slightly to get the hair out of his eyes. “Spells of fertility, to see what is happening.” 

“Are they dangerous?” Gwen asked, worry clouding her features.

“Only to Arthur’s pride,” Merlin said with a grin. He motioned for Gwen to come closer and, in a theatrical whisper, said, “he has to provide a sample for me.”

Arthur blanched. “What kind of sample?”

Merlin maintained a serious expression, though his eyes twinkled with mischief. “You need to ejaculate into a beaker for me. It’s the only way to get an accurate test with the spell. I could do it straight to your testicles, but then you risk frying the rest of them.” Arthur winced and moved his legs together. Merlin looked down at Gwen, “You can help him if he needs it, but honestly, if his sheets are anything to go by, he’s a semi-pro.”

“Gwen will not be helping me with that!” Arthur said, his face flushing with embarrassment.

“What, you want me to help you?” Merlin asked, finally allowing a small, reassuring smile to break through.

Arthur was at a loss of words for a moment, his face getting redder and redder as he struggled to form a sentence.

Gwen laughed and slapped Merlin’s shoulder gently, “Stop teasing him. He’s about to pass out.”

Merlin sighed heavily and shook his head at her, his tone light and affectionate. “You always take away my fun.” He straightened and motioned towards the table. “Why don’t we eat and discuss it more? If you are comfortable, we can start the tests tonight.”

“See, told you he could do it,” Merlin joked lightly later that evening as Arthur shoved the beaker with his sample into Merlin’s hands, refusing to meet his eyes.

“We will never speak of this again,” Arthur said through gritted teeth, standing beside Gwen on the other side of Merlin’s table. He squeezed her hand tightly, his heart feeling as if it were about to fall out of his chest.

Merlin’s chambers, which were across the corridor from Arthur and down the corridor from Gwen’s, were dimly lit. Tendrils of incense smoke rose, making the air feel heavy. Merlin drew intricate symbols on the table, his fingers leaving luminescent trails that glowed softly against the wood.

Arthur’s jaw was set firm as Merlin began to enchant, his voice barely above a murmur, yet it resonated through the room. Gwen’s eyes didn’t leave Merlin’s hands as, with careful precision, he dropped herbs into a chalice of water, each submerged with a pulsing ripple. The chalice's contents shimmered, casting an ethereal light that danced across their anxious faces.

Merlin placed the sample in the middle of the chalice, the liquid in the chalice now a vortex of swirling colours, each hue blending into the next. With a swift motion, he upturned the chalice, sending the contents to spread across the drawn circle.

The trio held their breath, watching the liquid stretch along the table, stopping within the confines. Arthur and Gwen looked up to Merlin for guidance, but his frown merely grew the dimmer the concoction got. 

Merlin stepped away from the table, sniffled and took a deep, shaky breath before vanishing everything from the table. “I’m so sorry.”

A sharp intake of breath from Gwen pierced the silence that followed. Tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back as she looked over at Arthur. 

Arthur stood frozen, the colour draining from his face, leaving him ghostly pale. The implications of Merlin's words were a blow more devastating than any enemy's sword. A sterile king—a broken link in the chain of succession—meant uncertainty and chaos for Camelot.

“Are you certain?” Arthur’s voice cracked, his usual confidence shattered.

“There is a minimal chance, if ever, that you will be able to sire a child,” Merlin responded softly.  He hesitated before reaching over and rubbing Arthur’s back as Gwen reached for Arthur’s hand, squeezing it. 

“Then we must discuss the next steps,” Arthur said, his voice steadying with resolve.

Merlin looked over at him, eyes flooded with curiosity. “Next steps, like assigning an heir?”

“That is one of the options,” Gwen admitted, pushing a strand of hair behind her ears. “I think this is better if we do it sitting down.”

Merlin summoned the chairs from the other side of the room and sat on the table, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on his knees.

“I need a drink,” Arthur muttered, not even flinching when Merlin summoned the goblets and wine from his chambers and handed him and Gwen theirs. 

“We’ve discussed that if one of us—”

Arthur took a deep drink from his wine. “Is unable,” Arthur finished for her, his eyes locking into Merlin’s. “That we would seek help.”

"Help?" Merlin queried, his brow knitting in confusion. “Surely not—”

Arthur shook his head hard, “Nothing like my father had done. A surrogate or donor, depending on our needs.”

“A donor,” Merlin said slowly. He licked his lips, “who were you considering?”

“Well, you.”

“Me!?” Merlin’s reaction was immediate and visceral; he almost fell off the table in his shock. “Surely, you can’t mean—”

“The kingdom needs an heir,” Arthur interrupted, his voice edging towards a plea.

“Of course, but consider the ramifications,” Merlin countered, his voice rising in pitch. "If the child does not resemble you, questions will arise. The accusations against Gwen alone..."

"Could weaken Camelot further," Arthur conceded, his expression darkening.

“Beyond the whispers of infidelity, there is the matter of lineage,” Merlin pressed on, his hands gesturing emphatically. "The legitimacy of your rule, the stability of the realm—it all hinges upon the perception of a rightful heir."

“We thought of all that, which is why it has to be you,” Gwen said with finality. 

Merlin dropped his hands into his lap, “I don’t follow.”

“We announce that you will be the child’s sire—”

“Are you insane?” Merlin screeched, “That’ll invite chaos and dissent.”

“Or it will be seen as the connection of Camelot to the magical community, something to make it stronger,” Arthur said, folding his arms across his chest. “A child, born to the Camelot throne, a child of Emrys…”

“But, Arthur, they will say you’re weak.”

“No, they will see we’re strong,” Arthur said firmly. “There have been times in Camelot’s history where an heir was not sired or had died early in life. The successful adopted heirs were those announced to the community, not hidden out of the King’s shame of not being able to sire one.” Arthur took a deep breath and looked into his friend’s eyes, a vulnerable smile on his face. “We can’t hide the fact that it will be your child, but we won’t have to.”

“Merlin, everyone loves you. Yes, there will be people against it, likely some of our counsellors, but the vast majority? They’d be proud to call your child a leader one day.” Gwen leaned forward and touched his knee, giving it a light squeeze. “The hope you would give the magical community—showing that you are helping grow Camelot into a haven for them—what better way than to give your child to rule the kingdom?”

“I…” Merlin glared down at his shoes, his fingers playing with his laces. “I don’t know about this…”

Arthur reached forward and took Merlin’s hand, squeezing it lightly before rubbing his thumb against the top. “Merlin, there is no one else in this world whom I trust as I trust you,” he began, his voice laced with an earnestness that Merlin hadn’t ever heard from him before. "You are my most loyal friend, my confidant, and the very soul of Camelot. Your intentions have always been pure, even when faced with the darkest times."

Merlin felt the room spin slightly, the gravity of Arthur's words anchoring him to the spot. He watched Gwen give them a slight, encouraging nod before she rose gracefully from her seat and retreated, leaving the two men alone.

"Arthur," Merlin started but was silenced by a gesture.

“Let me speak,” Arthur implored. "I have never doubted your loyalty nor your love for Camelot—and for us. If there is one man in this kingdom who could fulfil this role, who could help us in our most desperate hour, it is you, Merlin."

Merlin swallowed hard, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around him like a cloak. It was rare for Arthur to expose such vulnerability. "Arthur, this could bring unforeseen consequences upon us all," Merlin murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Perhaps," Arthur conceded, moving closer to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with his friend. "But without an heir, Camelot's future is bleak. You know as well as I that the realm's stability rests upon our lineage. Without it, the kingdom will fall into chaos, and the work we've done, the progress we've made towards uniting the five kingdoms—will be no more."

He knocked his shoulder with Merlin’s before pressing into his side.  "I would not ask this of anyone else, Merlin," Arthur continued solemnly. "You are the one person in this world, other than Gwen, whom I can trust with anything—my life, crown, and heart. You have stood by me through trials that would have broken lesser men. You've saved my life more times than I can count."

"Arthur, you are my king, my best friend," Merlin replied, caught in the intensity of Arthur's blue gaze. "Your request is... it's not something I ever imagined."

"Nor I," Arthur admitted. "But here we are, and I find myself asking you to help us in a way that goes beyond anything I have ever asked. I know that you love us, Merlin, and I know that you would never use this as an excuse to seek the crown."

Silence followed, Merlin unable to come up with any reasonable retort.

"Think on it, Merlin," Arthur said finally, his hand dropping away as he stepped back, allowing Merlin the space to process the enormity of the proposition. "This is not just about us—it's about the future of Camelot."

Merlin sighed heavily and licked his lips, his fingers twisting into the bottom of his tunic. His eyes, usually shining with joy, now flickered with an emotion that seemed to wrestle between profound duty and personal turmoil.

"Arthur," Merlin began, his voice steady despite the storm of thoughts raging in his mind. "I will consider your request, but know that this is not a decision I can make lightly or quickly."

Arthur nodded sharply, "I understand. And whatever you decide, know that it will change nothing between us. You are my most trusted friend, and that is not contingent upon the answer you give."

"Thank you, Sire," Merlin replied, the formality of the title feeling suddenly inadequate for the moment. He glanced towards the door, feeling Gwen’s presence just beyond the wood. "I shall give you my answer by the rise of the next moon," he promised.

Arthur clapped a hand on Merlin’s shoulder before stepping away and leaving Merlin to his thoughts. As he stopped by the door, he glanced back at his friend. Merlin was still sitting upon the table, but now, his face was hidden in his knees, and his hands were running and pulling at the strands of his hair. With a sigh, Arthur opened the door and closed it softly behind him, joining his wife in the corridor. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin atop her head and kissing her crown.

"What if he says no?" Gwen whispered, her words fragile as glass.

"Then we will face that when it comes," Arthur replied, his voice unwavering even as his heart quaked with uncertainty. "We have overcome much, my love. We will overcome this, too.”

Gwen pulled away and took his hand, “Let’s go to sleep. It’s been a long evening.” 

As the night deepened around Camelot, the castle seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the decision that would shape the destiny of a kingdom.

And outside, beneath the veil of stars and the watchful gaze of the heavens, Merlin walked the cobblestone paths, his footsteps echoing softly against stone, the weight of a crown's future pressing upon his shoulders.

~o0o~

Merlin traced the contours of the wooden table with an absent-minded finger, his gaze distant as Gwaine and Lancelot entered his chambers. He greeted them with a melancholy smile and gestured for them to sit. He continued his musing, barely nodding in thanks when Gwaine slid a goblet of wine his way.

“What’s wrong?” Lancelot asked, pushing his hair from his eyes. “Another fight with Arthur?”

“No, it’s not that.” With a sigh, Merlin sat back in his chair, frown deepening. “The harvest moon is near, but the fields are barren.”

“What?” Gwaine leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Someone is struggling to conceive,” Lancelot said softly, his features tightening as he caught the hidden meaning in Merlin’s words. “Arthur and Gwen?”

Gwaine snorted. “Of course, it’s them. Who else would you be this down about?”

Merlin opened his mouth to argue but stopped, knowing it was pointless. “They asked me to help them have a child.”

Gwaine stood up abruptly. “Are they insane!? How could they ask that of you?” His voice was a low growl, his hands clenching into fists. He glared over at Lancelot, who put a calming hand on his shoulder and lightly pushed down to get Gwaine to sit back.

Merlin’s eyes watered, and he took a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m their last hope. If I don’t help them, who will?”

Lancelot leaned forward and took Merlin’s hand, squeezing it gently. “My friend, it is noble to consider this, but at what cost to your own heart?”

Merlin smiled sadly. “My love for Arthur will always be unrequited. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do something that will make them immeasurably happy.”

Lancelot and Gwaine shared a look. “It’ll tear you apart to watch Arthur and Gwen raise a child that you helped create,” Gwaine said, his voice softening with concern.

Merlin scoffed. “Even if Arthur returned my affections, we’d never have children. And in either case, what am I to do?” Merlin’s voice became almost lyrical, giving both men pause. He only spoke like that regarding talks of Destiny, the Five Kingdoms, and Albion. It usually meant he had already made his choice, and they couldn’t stop him.

“He wouldn’t hate you, you know,” Lancelot said gently.

“Of course, but I’d hate myself,” Merlin admitted. “If I don’t help Arthur and Gwen when I easily could. I can’t forsake Camelot’s future for selfish reasons.” He paused momentarily, looking unsure about his next sentence. “Should I go through with it, it would mean I leave Camelot.”

Gwaine spat out his wine, and Lancelot patted him on the back as he coughed violently. “Leave Camelot!?” He slammed his goblet on the table, causing a small crack on the surface. “You are the core of this kingdom! There wouldn’t be a Camelot without you.”

Merlin looked down at the table, “Sometimes, even the core must be removed for the whole body to thrive.”

“That is absolute—”

“Gwaine,” Lancelot said forcefully.

“You can’t think this is okay!?” Gwaine turned towards him angrily. “Merlin’s given up everything for Arthur. He is going too far this time, asking him for something like this.”

“I agree, but our job as Merlin’s friends is to support him in what he chooses to do.”

“How is this even going to happen? You have no interest in having sex with a woman,” Gwaine said, turning back to Merlin.

Merlin scrunched up his nose. It was true. There was only one woman he ever had an interest in sleeping with, and she was no longer a viable option. “There’s a spell one can use to transfer sperm into an ovum without the physical touch required of sex. It has to happen minutes after release for it to be effective, which is—”

“Weird,” Gwaine said bluntly. “What are you going to do, pleasure yourself with them in the room watching?” Gwaine scoffed and leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs. “I didn’t know voyeurism was a kink of yours.”

Merlin frowned at Gwaine, “It is not—”

“I’ll go with you,” Gwaine said with a heavy sigh. “When you leave Camelot.” he elaborated at Merlin’s confused look.

“Myself as well,” Lancelot said. “You won’t have to go through this alone, my friend.”

Merlin met with Arthur and Gwen early the following day for breakfast as usual. His mind was a vortex of entropy, and his emotions only held up marginally better. Upon reaching Arthur’s chambers, he paused to gather the last vestiges of composure before he had what was arguably the most important talk they’d ever had.

With a deep breath, he knocked and entered, finding Arthur and Gwen already at their table and having started breakfast. Gwen shot him a brilliant smile and pushed out the chair on the other side of the table. “Merlin, come join us.”

Merlin walked over slowly, each step heavy with the weight of his decision. He sat down gingerly on the edge of the chair, feeling their concerned gazes on him. Gwen frowned and reached over to grab a clean plate, piling on foods she knew he liked to eat before nudging it in front of him.

Arthur’s sharp eyes narrowed as he watched Merlin’s uncharacteristic hesitation. “What’s wrong with you?” he snapped, his voice a mix of worry and frustration.

Merlin bit his lip, then looked up at them, his heart pounding. He forced a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll do it.”

Gwen gasped, her hand flying to her chest, her lips parting in shock. Arthur faltered, his eyes widening in surprise and something that looked like hope. “You’ll do it?” Arthur’s voice held a tremor that betrayed his usual fortitude.

“Yes,” Merlin confirmed, his gaze unwavering despite the storm inside him.

Gwen quickly got up from the table and circled Merlin, her arms wrapping around him tightly. “Thank you, Merlin. We can never repay you.” Her voice was thick with emotion, tears glistening in her eyes.

Arthur came up beside them and hugged Merlin, the warmth of their embrace both comforting and excruciating. Merlin pressed his face into Arthur’s shoulder, taking a shaky breath as he tried, failing to stop the tears in his eyes. He reached out and held them tightly, the reality of his decision sinking in.

“Think nothing of it,” Merlin said softly, allowing himself a moment to collect himself in their arms. “My only wish is to see you both happy and for Camelot to thrive.”

He gently extricated himself from their embrace, his heart aching with the loss he was about to face. “I’ll need a few days,” he said, keeping his voice steady despite the tempest brewing in his heart. “The specifics of the process require some preparation. It’ll take a bit to gather what is necessary and ensure everything is done correctly.”

“Take all the time you need, Merlin. We trust you completely,” Arthur said, his tone warm and filled with gratitude. It was subtle, but Merlin could hear the anticipation in his voice.

Gwen reached over, her touch light on Merlin’s forearm. “Is there anything we should do to prepare or be concerned about?”

Merlin shook his head. “It’s fairly simple, nothing like the one that ensured Arthur’s birth.” He paused for a moment, biting his lip. “You should use the time to come to terms with the fact that your child will likely have magic and be a dragonlord. My mother told me I was moving things before I was born—books flying, dancing vials, things like that.”

Gwen and Arthur were silent, causing Merlin to stutter out the following words. “I-I could bind the child’s powers. It isn’t dangerous if you do it before they are born, and it takes hold.” He offered, but the thought pained him more than he dared to admit.

“Absolutely not,” Arthur said firmly. “If our child has magic, especially magic inherited from you, Merlin, then it is meant to be nurtured. Any child with your gift... it could be nothing but pure and good.”

Gwen nodded her agreement, her eyes shining with determination. “They will know nothing but love and acceptance.”

Warmth bloomed in Merlin’s chest, a bittersweet mixture of joy and sorrow. “Thank you,” he managed to say, his throat tight with emotion. “I’ll begin the preparations at once.”

With that, Merlin excused himself to his chambers. Once there, he began to methodically gather the items he wanted to take, laying them out on his desk with a sense of finality. He separated his magic books from his personal effects, each item a memory of his time in Camelot. With a flick of his hand, he expanded the inside of his bag, the enchantment echoing the depth of his resolve. He carefully placed the books first, including the first book of magic he had received from Gaius. Next, he added his clothes and the small souvenirs he had collected over the years, each from various patrols, battles, feasts and festivals he joined.

At the top of the pile, he placed Arthur’s mother’s sigil, nestling it safely between the folds of his garments. The sigil was more than a token; it symbolised his bond with Arthur and the promise he had made to protect him. The last item he packed was a beautiful sapphire cloak with the Pendragon crest embroidered in gold thread on the front. It was a gift from Arthur and Gwen when he was made Court Sorcerer, a cherished reminder of their friendship and trust in him.

As the quiet hours of the night wore on, Merlin sat at his desk and wrote goodbye letters to his closest friends. Each letter was a labour of love, gratitude, and sorrow, the words flowing from his heart like a bittersweet melody. He poured his soul into each stroke of the pen, knowing that these letters would be the last pieces of himself he could leave behind.

With the first light of dawn cresting over the horizon, Merlin placed the notes in the top drawer of his desk. He had arranged for them to be delivered a day after he left Camelot, ensuring that there would be enough distance to prevent his friends from finding him too soon. Deep down, he knew they would come looking for him, driven by the same love and loyalty that bound them together.

The following day, Merlin steeled himself to fulfil his promise as the castle stirred to life. He would catalyse a future for Camelot that shimmered with hope, even if it meant walking away from the life he had known. His heart ached with the weight of his decision, but Merlin knew this act of deep loyalty and love would shape the destiny of the kingdom he cherished. As he took his final steps away from the castle he had called home, he felt the bittersweet pang of a new path unfolding before him, one marked by sacrifice and the unyielding strength of his heart.

~o0o~

The moonlight streamed through the stained glass window, casting a kaleidoscope of colours across Arthur’s chamber. The room, usually a sanctuary of comfort for Merlin, now felt suffocating with tension.

Merlin closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, hoping the warmth of the fire would ease his tension. He panted, his tongue circling two fingers before pressing them into his mouth. His left hand trailed down to his hip, rubbing slow circles. But nothing worked. Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair and growled, leaping up from Arthur’s bed. The weight of Arthur and Gwen’s stares was unbearable.

"I can't do this with you both staring at me," Merlin snapped, his cheeks flushing crimson.

“You can go into the antechamber. I had George clean it out this morning,” Gwen suggested encouragingly.

Merlin nodded stiffly and walked to the antechamber, closing the door firmly behind him. He began to pace, anxiety mounting. If he didn’t do something soon, he wouldn’t be able to help Arthur and Gwen.

Two knocks on the door preceded Arthur’s entrance. Merlin stiffened, turning slowly, barely meeting Arthur’s eyes.

“I can’t do it with just you watching me either,” Merlin snarked, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants.

Arthur raised his hands placatingly. “I was thinking… well, maybe I could…” A blush crept up his cheeks, and Merlin raised a brow. “I could help you.”

“Unless you can vanish on command,” Merlin retorted, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “I fear not.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Arthur scoffed. “What is a little help between us? The knights do it all the time.”

“I’m not a knight,” Merlin pointed out. “And you can’t—”

Arthur waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense, it wouldn’t be a hardship.” His eyes glinted mischievously but held sincerity. “I assure you.”

Merlin bit his bottom lip, torn between his desire and the potential consequences. This might be his one chance to be with Arthur the way he wanted, but Arthur didn’t know of his feelings. Still, Arthur had offered...

His heart stuttered in his chest as he nodded slowly. 

Arthur closed the distance between them, his steps unhurried as he lightly pressed a hand to Merlin’s chest and pushed him backwards until his knees met the bed. Merlin toppled over and reached out to grab Arthur in his shock. 

He took a shuddery breath and let go of Arthur’s tunic. Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. He was suddenly reminded of the power and pain of loving someone out of reach and how this would likely only damage him more. Merlin swallowed thickly and shakily undid his pants before pushing his shirt up his chest before he could back out.

The room was chilly, causing him to suck in his stomach at the sudden temperature change, but he forced himself to relax, take deep breaths and block out everything else other than what was happening.

Arthur made to slide down to his knees when Merlin grabbed his tunic and pulled up until their faces were mere centimetres apart. “What’s wrong?” Arthur asked softly, his breath warming Merlin’s face.

“Kings should never be on their knees,” Merlin said firmly, ignoring the pleasure that shot through him at the very thought.

Arthur chuckled and rolled his eyes, placing a gentle hand on Merlin’s thigh as his other slowly freed his hardening cock. Merlin’s breath hitched as Arthur’s hand, calloused from years of wielding a sword, closed around him with unexpected gentleness. “For you, Merlin, I’d gladly walk on my knees.”

A violent shiver coursed down Merlin’s spine at the words, and he couldn’t help but lean into the sensations Arthur’s skilled hands evoked. It had been too long since he had felt this close to another, and the moment's intimacy was overwhelming.

Arthur leaned forward and nuzzled against the top of Merlin’s thigh, his breath ghosting over his cock, causing him to shiver as it rushed across the wet head. Merlin couldn’t help the strangled noise that escaped his lips as he pushed Arthur’s head off of his thigh before his hands flew up to cover his face as he felt tears begin to well in his eyes. 

He grabbed a pillow and hid his face in it, covering the rest of it with his arm. With his other, he reached down and started to run his fingers up and down his chest, sharp nails catching on a nipple, leaving him to buck into Arthur’s hand with a groan.

Arthur squeezed and twisted his hand over the head of Merlin’s cock, causing a drop of pre-cum to weep from the tip. He gently took a finger and rubbed against the slit. Merlin’s breathing hitched, and Merlin knew he couldn’t take much more. “Keep doing that,” he gasped, his voice thick with need.

Arthur slightly altered his touch to firmly rub from base to tip, collecting the precum as it dropped and massaging it into the head and shaft. “You’re so wet for me,” Arthur leaned up and whispered in his ear. Merlin’s toes curled in his boots, and he bit back a moan. It was too much, yet not enough, as his body yearned for more.

“I-I’m close,” he managed to ground out, his fingers pulling at his hair.

“Come for me, Merlin,” Arthur whispered in his ear, and it was that, the tender way Arthur spoke his name, that sent him over the edge.

Merlin’s climax crashed through him like a tidal wave, and he arched his back, crying out as pleasure surged through every fibre of his being. The world seemed to momentarily swirl around him as white-hot ecstasy coursed through his veins, and he barely registered the vial pressed against the tip of his cock.

The room fell silent as he panted for air. He squeezed his eyes shut, but it did nothing to hold back the tears that began to fall from his face. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Arthur was looking at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place.

As his breath steadied, his chest rising and galling with a pace that slowly returned to its usual rhythm, he righted himself, feeling the familiar pull of his protective facades snapping back into place as he sniffled and wiped his face one last time. Avoiding Arthur’s gaze, he forced a cheerful tone. “We should get back to Gwen.”

Arthur’s concern still lingered in his eyes, the intensity of the moment they shared hanging between them, but Merlin deftly manoeuvred past it. He wasn't about to let Arthur see how profoundly the act had affected him— not when this was to give him and Gwen the thing they wanted most in the world.

"Merlin," Arthur started, but Merlin raised a hand, halting any words that might further strip away the layers he hastily rebuilt.

"Really, Arthur. Gwen needs us," Merlin insisted, the smile plastered on his face, not quite reaching his troubled eyes. With an unsteady step, he grabbed the vial from Arthur’s hand and moved towards the door, eager to distance himself from the intimacy of the antechamber.

Gwen awaited them on Arthur’s bed. She sat cross-legged, embroidering something into a thick leather band resembling what Arthur sometimes wore around his wrist. She looked up and smiled at him softly, gently putting what she was working on to the side to give him her full attention.

“Feeling relaxed?” He asked lightly, coming up beside her and sitting on the bed.

“Of course,” Gwen replied. “I trust you, Merlin.”

He nodded and rolled the vial in his hand before he began, taking one more silent moment before things changed forever. 

Merlin began the incantation with practised movements, his fingers weaving through the air as ancient words flowed from his lips. A warm glow emanated from the vial, casting dancing shadows upon the stone walls. 

Arthur had gone to sit on Gwen’s other side and grabbed her hand, watching Merlin carefully as he completed the ritual. The magic swirled around them, and the trio fell silent as they waited, the seconds stretching into an eternity. The vial suddenly shone with a brilliant burst of light, marking the success of their endeavour.

Arthur and Gwen laughed, unbelievable huffs as they stared at her womb that was confirmed to now be with child. Merlin couldn’t help but mirror their reaction, although he much felt like sobbing in relief. Thanking any deity, he could say that he didn’t have to go through the routine again, and he didn’t think he would be able to do it a second time. 

“Do they have magic?” Gwen asked softly, holding her hand protectively over her womb.

Merlin closed his eyes and listened, feeling the pulse of magic around him. It was faint, but he felt a slight tug of magic coming from Gwen that he never had before.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “It is hard to tell how much they’ll have right now.” He smiled tightly, “Although, even a small amount of magic will keep you on your feet.”

“I’ve had good practice,” Arthur smirked before reaching down and pulling Merlin to his feet. Merlin stood uncertainly when suddenly he found himself enveloped in a tight embrace, first from Gwen, whose gratitude was palpable in every line of her body, and then Arthur, who wrapped strong arms around them.

"Merlin," Gwen began, her voice thick with emotion, "I don't know how we can ever repay you for this gift."

"Your happiness is payment enough," Merlin replied, the words barely above a whisper. His face was still partially concealed behind his hands as he fought to master the surge of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Still, we owe you more than words can say. You've given us hope, Merlin—hope for a future that seemed out of reach."

Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s neck, trying to hide the tears he was trying and failing to keep from falling. “We owe you everything,” Arthur whispered in his ear as he pressed his forehead to Merlin’s temple. 

“Anything for you,” Merlin said lightly, subtly rubbing his face against the cloth on Arthur’s shoulder before pulling away. “I’m going to go to bed; this took a lot out of me.” 

"Of course, Merlin," Arthur said, concern lacing his tone as he observed the sorcerer's sudden, weary posture. "We will see you in the morning."

“Good night, Merlin,” Gwen said with a wide smile.

“Goodbye,” he managed to say, his voice steady despite the fatigue that dragged at his limbs like chains. He offered them a smile that was more tired than joy, unable to give them anymore. He only hoped Arthur was too distracted to read through him.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned back one last time to look at them. Arthur and Gwen were huddled together on the edge of Arthur’s bed, their hands pressed to her stomach and their smiles bright. 

With a deep breath, he nodded to himself and stepped out into the corridor, the click of the door closing behind him echoing like a final note in a long and arduous symphony.

Merlin made his way through Camelot's dimly lit stone corridors, his steps slow and reflective. The torches flickered on the walls as he passed, casting shadows that matched his tumultuous emotions. With his possessions over his shoulder, he allowed his feet to take him to his final destination before he left Camelot for good.

Gaius’ chambers were as familiar to Merlin as his own heartbeat, a sanctuary within the vastness of the castle, second only to Arthur’s chambers. Pushing open the door, he saw Gaius bent over a scroll, his brow furrowed in concentration. The old man looked up, his gaze sharpening upon seeing the weariness in Merlin’s features.

"Merlin, what is it?" Gaius asked, concern instantly flooding his voice.

"The ritual... was successful," Merlin began his voice a low murmur that carried the weight of his relief and exhaustion. Gwen is with the child."

Gaius rose from his seat, a smile blooming on his face. "That's wonderful news, truly," he said, clasping Merlin's shoulder affectionately. "And the magic?"

Merlin hesitated for a fraction of a moment. "They have at least a small portion of magic. I was able to feel it already. This means I need you to guide them, Gaius. Teach them to harness their power, to use it wisely."

"Of course," Gaius nodded, his eyes narrowed slightly, reading something unspoken in Merlin's stance. "But you speak as if you won't be here to see it yourself."

Merlin's gaze dropped to the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. When he lifted his eyes again, an implacable resolve was within them. "I am leaving Camelot," he declared, the words resolute yet thick with emotion. My path... it lies elsewhere now."

"Merlin, you can't mean this," Gaius protested, the distress evident in his voice. "After everything, you would turn your back on Camelot? On Arthur?"

"It's not a matter of turning my back," Merlin's response was swift, tinged with sorrow. "It's about being needed elsewhere. There are rumours that Cenred’s up to his tricks again, taking young sorcerers from their parents and turning them into slaves. I must put a stop to it, and I cannot stay tethered to Camelot’s gates if I want any chance of doing so."

"Reconsider this," Gaius implored, reaching out as if trying to anchor Merlin to the present physically. "You can’t go off to fight a war alone, and you are needed here in Camelot with Arthur."

"Arthur has his queen and, soon, an heir," Merlin countered, his tone gentle yet unyielding. "He is no longer the young prince who needed guidance at every step. And you, Gaius, you are more than capable of guiding him in my steed. Should the need arise, seek help from the Druids. They will help if they know I sent you."

"Merlin—"

"Promise me, Gaius," Merlin interjected, his eyes locking onto those of his mentor. "Promise me you'll look after them."

"I promise," Gaius acquiesced, the fight draining from him as he recognised the finality in Merlin's decision. "But my worry is not who will look after them but who will look after you."

Merlin scoffed, “I don’t need looking after.” He paused and sighed heavily, “I thank you for everything. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.”  Merlin said, his voice barely above a whisper, imbued with a lifetime of gratitude and unshed tears. With a last lingering look, he turned and strode from the room, leaving behind the flickering torchlight and the man who had been his teacher and anchor.

As he walked through the corridors and out the castle entrance, he thought of the countless mornings awoken by the bustle of servants, the late nights spent pouring over ancient texts with Gaius, and the stolen moments of quiet conversation with Arthur under the stars. He couldn’t help but stop once he was at the castle gates and stare up at the castle, unable to hold back the tears that fell. He laughed wetly, with how many times he’d cried that evening. He could hear Arthur’s voice in his mind calling him a girl.

"Goodbye, my friend," he murmured, not sure if he addressed the castle, its people, or the memories they held. With a finality that resonated in his core, Merlin stopped before the gate when he caught sight of the two shadows waiting for him.

“Are you ready to go, Merlin?” Lancelot asked softly, and Merlin turned back towards the castle one last time, strengthening his resolve.

“Yes… let’s go.”  And with that, he strode through the gates of Camelot with his two close friends at his side, his silhouette melting into the misty dawn, ready to embrace whatever trials awaited him beyond the safety of the kingdom's walls.

~o0o~

It was rainy that morning; the firelight from the fireplace spilling across the stone floor of Arthur’s chambers did nothing to warm his chambers. There was a knock at the door before it slid open, revealing George, his footsteps confident as he strode into the room with Arthur’s breakfast. 

“George?” Arthur’s brow furrowed in surprise as he peeked out from behind the changing partition, his blue eyes searching for Merlin’s absent figure. “Where is Merlin?” he stepped out from behind it, straightening his shirt and approaching the table.

“I am not certain about Merlin’s whereabouts, Sire,” George said, setting the tray down with a clatter that still disrupted the morning. “I received word this morning that I was to attend to you until further notice.”

Arthur’s hand paused mid-reach for a piece of honeyed bread, a flicker of concern passing over his face before he dismissed it with practised ease. “Very well,” he conceded, but he certainly wasn’t happy about it. Merlin was wont to the occasional and unexplained absence. He picked up the bread and bit into it without further comment, barely glancing at the sealed parchment lying innocently beside his plate. 

He would never admit it, but he jumped when Gwen burst through the doors, her breath coming out in short, urgent gasps. Her distress sent a jolt of alarm through Arthur, causing him to drop his bread. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“It’s Merlin,” Gwen said, her voice barely above a whisper, his brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“What’s happened to Merlin!?” Arthur asked frantically.

“He’s gone.”

“Gone, what do you mean he’s gone?” Then, he noticed the note clenched in Gwen’s shaky hands. 

His fingers closed around the crumpled parchment and pulled it towards himself. His eyes quickly scanned the familiar script that scrawled across the page, each word etching itself into his mind.

“I write to you with a heavy heart,” he read aloud, incredulity colouring his tone. “I realise that notice of my absence during this profound moment in your lives will likely cause you disappointment and perhaps some sorrow.” Arthur coughed, feeling his throat tighten, and thought it best to continue reading silently. 

Should you find yourself in need of guidance regarding your child’s gifts, I Implore you to seek the wisdom of the Druids. Tell them Emrys sent you. I cannot express how deeply I regret not being there to offer guidance myself, especially knowing the weight of responsibility that rests upon your shoulders now. Please believe me when I say I have the utmost faith in both of you as parents. The love and dedication you have shown me, not to mention countless others and yourselves, will undoubtedly shape your child into a beacon of hope and strength that will carry forth the noble legacy of Camelot that you and Arthur have courageously upheld. I apologise that I will not be there for the birth of your child nor to watch them grow. Please know that though I am not physically there with you, my thoughts will remain with you, Arthur and your child.  With heartfelt apologies and sincerest wishes for your happiness and prosperity, Merlin

Arthur breathes out a shaky breath and goes to sit at the table. His arm reaches out to grab his water goblet when his wrist brushes against the parchment by his plate. He frowns and opens the letter. It contains only two simple sentences.

I can’t stay. I’m sorry. Merlin

Arthur’s fingers trembled as they crumpled the edges of the parchment, his heart stuttering in his chest. The short message, stark against the creamy background, blurred before his eyes as a maelstrom of emotions surged within him—betrayal, confusion, and an aching sorrow clawed at his throat.

“Merlin,” he whispered, the name a plea and a curse all at once.

He rose abruptly, his chair scraping harshly against the stone floor. With swift strides, he made for the council chambers, snapping at the guards there that they were to gather the Knights of the Round Table immediately. The Round Table loomed as he entered, its polished surface reflecting the flickering torchlights— what was once a beacon of unity was now shadowed by absence.

As the others filed in, he noticed two notable absences. “Where are Sirs Lancelot and Gwaine?” he demanded, his voice ringing through the room. 

Sir Leon stepped forward, solemnity etched in his features. In his outstretched hands were two sealed parchments, their wax seals broken. “They sent these this morning,” he said, his tone laced with regret.

Arthur snatched the parchments from Leon’s grasp, eyes scanning the words. “Resignations, they’ve gone with Merlin.” On the one hand, he was devastated to lose not only one but three of his closest friends, but on the other, he was grateful to Lancelot and Gwaine for not allowing Merlin to leave Camelot on his own. But despite the gratefulness, he still couldn’t help but wonder why. What had caused the three of them to leave Camelot?

“Prepare the horses,” Arthur commanded, his resolve hardening. “We ride at once.”

“Arthur,” Leon began cautiously, “Should we not consider—”

“No!” Arthur cut him off sharply. “We will find them all and bring them home. Camelot needs them.” I need them. 

He turned his heel, the cape behind him whispering across the stone floor as he strode from the table to prepare for the journey.

“Sire, if Merlin wishes to remain hidden, even the combined forces of Camelot will not be able to find him.”

Arthur stopped abruptly, his back to Leon. The muscles in his jaw clenched visibly. “I know Merlin’s heart, and it is one that beats in tandem with Camelot’s,” he said, his voice low but laced with intensity. It beats in tandem with mine.

“Perhaps it would be kinder to let him go,” Percy ventured, joining them with Elyan at his side. His voice was gentle. Understanding, yet it grated against Arthur’s resolve like a whetstone.

“Kinder?”Arthur spun around, his blue eyes ablaze. “Merlin is more than just our court sorcerer— he’s my… confidant, my closest ally.” He took a shaky breath, steadying himself against the emotions threatening to spill forth. “I can’t— I won’t— do this without him.”

The journey to Ealdor was undertaken with haste, leaving no room for doubt. The gallop of hooves, which pounded against the earth and stirred clouds of dust that rose like spectators in their make, could be heard for miles before they were at the treeline of the small village. Arthur rode at the forefront, his golden hair gleaming beneath the brim of his helmet, eyes fixed on the path ahead with steely determination.

Upon arriving, the familiar sight of Hunith’s cottage emerged from the soft mists of early dawn. She stood there as if she had been awaiting their presence, her face tight with worry.

“Arthur,” Hunith greeted, pulling him into a hug. She lifted herself on her tiptoes and kissed his forehead before moving away. Her voice was strained, her muscles tense with evident fear. “Merlin came through here last night.”

“Where did he go, Hunith?”

“Essitir.”

Arthur’s heart sunk links a stone in the depths of the ocean. “He’s gone to Cenrad’s castle?”

“To stop the war,” Hunith said with a grave nod. “As you’ve likely heard, the war between the castle and the magical beings of Essitir has taken a dire turn. He’s enslaving children from druid camps, erasing their memories and making it so they know nothing but of war.”

Of course, he had heard. It’s one of the only things Merlin had taken to talking about. Arthur knew he had been in talks with druid leaders about what their next move would be. Arthur had offered refuge to those who needed it, but they had to get into Camelot territory for it to come into effect. From what they had heard, Cenred had been making sure that none of them made it into the territory. 

“Merlin believes it’s his duty— as Emrys— to intervene.”

“That idiot,” Arthur breathed, his pulse quickening at the thought of his friend amidst the chaos of a magical battle with only Lancelot and Gwaine at his side. His hands clenched at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking with the force of his grip. “And you let him go?” he demanded.

“What choice did I have?” Hunith says painfully. She glared up into his eyes, determination in her gaze. “You bring my son home safe, Arthur Pendragon.”

“Upon my honour,” Arthur vowed. “I will not rest until Merlin is safe and sound at home. 

He turned on his heel, his cape swirling behind him as he returned to his knights. The brisk air bit at his cheeks as he steered them, racing towards Essetir Castle.

The castle loomed ahead several candle marks later, its foreboding silhouette a stark contrast against the twilight canvas. 

“Prepare yourselves,” Arthur called, his voice cutting through the evening hair like a blade. He steeled himself, unaware of what would await them once they crossed the castle walls.

~o0o~

“Secure the perimeter,” Arthur commanded, watching as his knights dispersed. Their movements were methodical as they examined each still form that littered the ground, searching for survivors among Essetir’s fallen knights. 

Arthur’s heart pounded against his breastplate, a relentless drum that spurred him onward. With each step, he felt the oppressive weight of dread squeezing tighter at the possibility that Merlin might be found among the fallen.

“Please don’t let him be here,” he whispered to himself as his eyes scanned the sea of bodies, seeking the sorcerer's familiar dark hair and bright eyes. 

"Sire!" Sir Kay called, his tone laced with urgency but not despair—a sign that gave Arthur a sliver of hope. He strode toward the knight, feeling every echo of his plated boots resonate within the hollow chambers of his chest.

"Report," Arthur demanded.

"No sign of Merlin, Sire," Sir Kay responded, his face alight with relief. "He is not among the casualties. Nor are Sirs Gwaine and Lancelot,” he tacked on at the end.

A silent exhale escaped Arthur’s lips, the tension in his shoulders ebbing away. “Then we continue our search,” Arthur declared his words, a clarion call that rallied his knights once more. "Merlin and the others are here, somewhere. And we shall find them.”

They swept across the castle’s shadowed corridors, and the pungent scent of blood and smoke permeated the air, but when they listened closely, they could hear a murmur of voices that drew them toward the counselling chambers.

Arthur signalled his men to pause, his hand raised for silence. They edged closer, the murmuring growing clearer until they stood before the imposing oak doors of the chamber. With a nod from Arthur, he and Leon gently pushed open the doors.

The sight before them gave them pause. Merlin sat at the head of the table, surrounded by druid leaders whose faces Arthur remembered from treaty meetings the past couple of years. A dragon circlet rested upon Merlin’s brow, starkly contrasting his simple clothes. Merlin grimaced and shifted it as he spoke, obviously uncomfortable with it on him. Lancelot and Gwaine sat at either side of him, sharp eyes observing the meeting.

It wasn’t until Gwaine had leaned down that Arthur noticed the small girl cradled in Merlin’s arms. Her hair, as dark as a raven’s wing, stood in stark contrast to the white swaddling he had her in. Even from a distance, Arthur could see how her tiny fingers grasped at the air, unknowing of the chaos around her.

“What do you plan on doing with her?” Gwaine asked, brushing his fingers across the baby’s forehead. 

“I’ll adopt her,” Merlin said softly, each word deliberate, “since I killed her mother.” He looked up then, his blue eyes locking with Arthur’s. “Hello, Sire.” The words were tinged with a melancholy that only served to deepen the furrows on Arthur's brow. His heart hammered against his chest as he stepped forward.

"That is all you have to say to me?“ Arthur's voice came out sharper than he intended, a byproduct of the worry gnawing at him. “You up and leave Camelot, and when I find you, it’s amid a war with a baby." The confusion and betrayal bled into his words, mingling with an anger he couldn't wholly suppress.

Merlin's snark was immediate, a defence mechanism honed through years of banter. "Technically, you found me on the successful side of a war." He tilted his head, a wry twist to his lips that failed to reach his eyes.

"Merlin," Arthur started, his tone brooking no argument, "don't play the semantic game with me. You need to come home."

The room held its breath, waiting for Merlin's retort. Yet what came was not a quip or a jest but the calm, measured tone that Arthur knew presaged gravity. Merlin glanced down at the babe, whose dark eyes had fluttered open. He cooed softly, a gentle hushing sound, before lifting his gaze to meet Arthur's once more.

"There's nothing for me in Camelot anymore," Merlin began, his voice clear and steady. "We have to rebuild Essiter. It can't be without a king for long. As I am Emrys, I offered to take over at least temporarily." He cradled the child closer to his chest, protective and resolute. "We will build it into the magical kingdom it is supposed to be."

Arthur felt a piercing pang in his chest—was it loss, fear, or something else entirely? Merlin's words echoed in the chamber, a haunting melody of finality that threatened to sever the bond they had forged. The future of Camelot, the weight of his crown, it all paled beside the realization that the man before him, the one he trusted above all others, the keeper of his secrets and his unspoken desires, might just slip away like mist at the break of dawn.

"Merlin," Arthur's voice cracked slightly, betraying his desperation. "You've always been the one to guide me, to stand with me against whatever darkness threatened Camelot. I have needed you before, but I need you by my side now more than ever." His plea lay bare, stripped of the regal veneer that usually cloaked his words.

The knights around them shifted uneasily, the weight of their king's vulnerability as palpable as the tension that thickened the air. Merlin regarded Arthur with a poignant stillness in his eyes.

Rising from his seat, Merlin gently placed the baby into Gwaine’s arms. The knight's usual playful demeanour was subdued; his brow furrowed with concern at the drama between his king and friend unfolding.

Merlin walked over to Arthur, his movements deliberate, each step seemingly heavier than the last. He stood before the king, close enough to touch, reassure, and mend what was broken. Instead, he reached out with tender precision, straightened Arthur's rumpled chainmail, smoothed down the fabric of his cape with a careful hand, and finally adjusted the disarray of golden locks that crowned the brow furrowed with worry.

"You don't need me anymore," Merlin said softly, his voice laced with a quiet strength. In his eyes, there flickered the merest hint of power, the depth and wisdom of a sorcerer who had seen too much, felt too much, sacrificed too much.

Arthur's heart clenched at those words, at the resignation they carried. But he could not—would not—accept this decree. Not from Merlin. His hands itched to grip Merlin's shoulders, shake him, awaken the bond that surely couldn't have faded like the embers of a dying fire.

"Merlin," he began, the name a prayer, a command, a plea. But the words that would follow remained unspoken, trapped within the confines of a throat tight with emotion. Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, stood face to face with the man who had shaped his reign, who had saved his life time and again, who had become the very essence of what he fought for—and found himself at a loss for how to keep him.

"Merlin," Arthur repeated, his voice cracking with the strain of unshed tears. "That's not true!" The words burst from him like a clarion call, a desperate bid to hold onto something that was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

Merlin leaned forward, and for a moment, Arthur wondered if he would be granted reprieve, a sign that his plea had reached the enigmatic heart before him. 

Merlin's lips brushed Arthur's forehead, a whisper of contact that sent a shiver down Arthur's spine. A faint glow emanated from the touch, magic seeping into the gesture—a final gift or perhaps a silent apology.

"I'm sorry," Merlin murmured as he pulled away, leaving a lingering warmth on Arthur's skin. His voice was barely above a breath, yet it carried the gravity of an unchangeable verdict. "I love you, but it's for the best."

The simple words, spoken with such a gentle finality, shattered the last vestiges of Arthur's composure. To hear the confession of love intertwined with the thread of goodbye wove a tapestry of pain too complex to unravel. He watched, feeling hollowed out and bereft, as Merlin stepped back, the distance between them expanding more than just the physical space—it was the chasm of their diverging destinies.

Arthur was left standing amidst the echoes of what had been and what might never be, devastated and unsure of what the future held without the man who had become his compass in a world that demanded so much of a king. Merlin, his sorcerer, confidant, and cornerstone, had decided upon a path Arthur could not follow. And the crown upon his head felt heavier than ever before, a symbol of power that could not command the human heart.

[knightofmordred]

the way leon was the only knight to be in all five seasons and was the closest to arthur before lancelot and gwaine came along yet we hardly know anything about him other than the fact he grew up with arthur, gwen and elyan and is also loyal asf we so deserved to know more about him and his character. we should've seen him as just being himself and the servant of two masters ep gave us a small glimpse of that.

same with percival. there's so much to unpack with him. his friendship with lancelot (and the fact they like never interacted again after his introduction) but also his grief and rage at what morgana did to him and his family. we saw glimpses of it, but it was only in the finale where he went with gwaine to seek revenge that we saw even part of that grief and rage.

leon is so much more than his loyalty to the crown and percival is so much more than a himbo !!