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merlinmylove · 16 days ago

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The final chapter is up!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63826411/chapters/163670266

Thank you all for everything <3

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Merlin hated being kidnapped. It was truly the worst, especially at the hands of Agrvaiane, the slimiest and most pathetic person he’d ever had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting.

He’d been tied to the rock wall for two days at this point, arms crossed over his head in an uncomfortable position. His head was still hurting quite badly from where he’d been struck— probably by a rock — and his vision was a little off. But his hearing wasn’t.

From further into the cavern, he could hear Gaius’ weakened screams.

Agravaine had informed him when he first woke that a Catha Priest was working on behalf of Morgana to extract information. Information that Gaius was reluctant to give, and wasn’t it just such a happy coincidence that he had found a sleeping Merlin in the woods? And surely, as Gaius' assistant, Merlin also knew something about the sorcerer Emrys.

Emrys. They wanted Emrys. They needed to know who he was and where he was. Were his ribs not cracked, Merlin would’ve laughed at the irony. Aside from the broken bones and bruised, bleeding skin, Merlin was also in pain from the cold iron chains.

Of course, Agravaine had no idea he had captured a warlock in these chains; he had simply picked up the discarded ones Morgana had brought with her.

Merlin was trapped both inside a cave and inside himself. He could not escape, nor could he rescue Gaius. Gagged by cloth, he had been forced to sit and listen in on his father-figure screaming in pain, while he could do nothing to help.

Gaius had been tortured for days, even before Merlin arrived. Dark magic and human hands had caused insufferable pain to both of them. The Catha Priest had worked tirelessly on Gaius, while Agravaine occasionally helped out when he was not busy abusing Merlin.

Bruised and cracked ribs, small cuts into his skin, aching muscles, and a thundering headache kept Merlin awake. The stench of blood and dirt didn’t help, either.

Merlin prayed to the goddess that Gaius would break soon. He hoped that the older man would tell their capturers what he knew, if only so he could die quicker. A quick death would be preferable to this agony, and Merlin didn’t want Gaius to protect him.

While Merlin could save himself, he knew could no longer save his uncle, and so, praying for a swift death was his only hope.

Merlin tried to cover his ears with his arms as he heard another scream of terror. Smoke from a fire filled his lungs, and he started coughing, blinking his eyes in pain. He tried again to reach for his magic, and while it sizzles under his skin and seemed to be just as desperate as him to escape, he cannot break the chains. Not yet, anyway. Not while his head is still spinning.

A hard crack was heard and Merlin whips his head in the direction where it came from. The cave was filled with a loud silence, and all Merlin could hear was his heartbeat. He knew in that moment that Gaius had finally reached his end. He had either told them what they needed to know or he had perished from the pain.

Four days after Merlin left Camelot in search of his uncle he had died, and there was nothing Merlin could do. Regardless of how it had happened, his mother's brother's death was on his hands. Still, Merlin had never felt more relief than grief than he had in this moment.

—

Elyan and Gwaine had rushed ahead on horseback to alert the new court physician of the incoming patient.

When Arthur and his knights finally made their way up the stairs into the castle early in the morning, Gwen was standing there waiting. “I’ve cleared out the guest rooms in my corridors. She will be more comfortable there, and not in a busy workspace.”

Arthur, Lancelot, Leon, and Percival carried Hunith up the stairs and towards her new rooms. She stirred a little in her sleep, but she seemed to be at ease. They moved her onto the bed, and Gwen and Farris began tending to her.

“Get some rest, Arthur. You need it.” Someone said, but he couldn’t make out who. Wordlessly, he made his way back to his rooms, throwing bits of his armor off as he walked. Behind him, Gwaine followed him like a shadow.

Once safe inside his chambers, Arthur’s knees buckled under him, and he fell onto the carpet in front of the fireplace, where Merlin always sits. They would enjoy their quiet evenings together, Arthur in his chair nursing a glass of wine, while Merlin sits cross legged on the floor mending his shirts, or polishing his armor.

Hours of his life had been spent listening to Merlin talk nonsense and pretending he wasn’t interested. But he was. He always listened to every word Merlin said because his voice was a solace he craved. The way Merlin spoke about his days and how he spun stories had always fascinated the young prince, and even now, as a king.

Arthur clenched the worn carpet threads between his fingers. He never knew his soul could long for someone quite like this. He never knew his heart could hurt quite like this.

The only times he’d ever truly suffered heartache was from seeing his mother's ghost, when his father died, and when he ended his courtship with Gwen.

Because that’s what this was.

Heartache.

Fuck. He was in love with Merlin. Oh, sweet gods above, how had he never realised it before? But now that his mind was caught up with how his heart was feeling, he could finally see sense. In Merlin’s bright smile, his stupid ears, and the way his fringe falls into his blue eyes — in him, Arthur sees his future and his happiness. His home.

“I love him,” Arthur choked on his tears as he confessed to Gwaine, who had sat down beside him. The knight rubbed his shoulder in a soothing gesture.

“I couldn’t even admit publicly that we were friends, but I love him!” Arthur cried. Had his father seen him now, he would’ve slapped some sense and decency into him. It was undignified and beneath a Pendragon to cry openly. Especially over a servant, and a male one at that.

But Arthur found he didn’t care what Uther or Agravaine had to say anymore. He had already lost one love due to them, he was not about to lose another. Merlin was his best friend, his faithful companion, and his absolute everything.

Father had always said servants were expendable. Replaceable. But not Merlin. No, to Arthur, he was irreplaceable.

“I’m glad to see you finally admitting it. It’s been rough watching the two of you walk on eggshells around each other, especially since your thing with Gwen ended.” Gwaine teased, not unkindly, but in the same trivial manner he always seemed to use.

“What are you talking about? I only just now realised it!” Arthur sputtered, but his knight laughed.

“Come now, princess. The way the two of you behave like an old married couple, fretting about each other like old wives, it was clear to anyone with eyes what Merlin was to you.”

And in a much gentler tone, he levelled “…And what you are to him.”

“You don't know that. Don’t say it; don’t give me hope, not now.” Arthur was not above begging.

“Oh, but I do know. Merlin more or less told me so, and don’t think I’m breaking his confidence, because he also told me to look after you before anyone else. Even Gaius. So, I’m only telling you this so you will get a grip: Merlin is still out there. He still loves you, and if anyone can find him, it’s you. The two of you always seemed to have this...deeper understanding of each other.”

Arthur looked at Gwaine as the man helped him stand up.“Guess you could say there is a special bond between us. Something that has always drawn us closer to each other. It’s like…like I can sense him in any room without even setting eyes on him. My body knows Merlins’ like my own.”

Ordinarily, he would be embarrassed to admit such a thing out loud, but not now. He wiped his eyes and steadied himself. Gwaine met his eyes a little uncertainly.

“Even though he can command dragons? Even though it was most likely him who released it in the first place? Will Merlin be safe in Camelot given this newfound information?”

“I don’t care anymore. I’m sure in time I will come to question things, but right now, the only thing I care about in this world is to get Merlin home.”

Gwaine smiled at him as he leaned against the door. He looked proud of his king, and it made Arthur feel some semblance of hope again.

—

Hunith stayed in her new chambers, hiding under the covers, while Gwen and Farris tried to keep her calm. She still smelled of smoke from the dragon fire that had saved her life.

She’d been clinging to the bedsheets, shaking and crying, for hours. “It’s not real, it’s not real,” she moaned while Gwen kept trying to calm her down. Her moss green dress was torn and dusty. Her hair was matted, and her pale skin was bruised.

She never opened her eyes, too afraid of what she might see, but she did eventually accept the truth that she had been rescued. Eventually, she tired herself back to sleep.

—

The knights gather at the stables once more. Tired and hungry, they set off for the woods again. Hunith is safe, but her son isn’t, and Arthur is going to bring him home, come hell or high water.

Gwaine's words rattle around his brain, and he cannot get them to stop. Merlin was a dragonlord, and by law, he was to be executed. Of course, Arthur would never do that — and he had never intended to harm Balinor either when he risked his life to save Camelot.

But it still posed another question that confused him. Was a dragonlord's ancestry any different to magic, or was it just another kind of magic like his father had believed. In that case, Merlin never chose to study magic, instead, it was chosen for him by nature.

And that makes no sense. All his life he’s been taught that magic was an evil knowledge that one sought out for power. But if magic could simply happen to people without their consent, then…then that changes everything.

Everyone knows Gaius used to practice magic. He still does, to some extent. The books, the potions, the network of sorcerers. And now that Arthur knew Merlin was a dragonlord, a dragonlord who had studied herbology and medicine under Gaius, he realised something else;

Merlin always seemed to understand and recognise magical creatures and people. If Merlin could inherit his dragonlord powers, it stands to reason he could have learnt magic from Gaius, too.

Merlin was a dragonlord who studied magic.

The wind howled as they rode on, Elyan tracking what remained of some footsteps. The king was barely keeping up with them, too lost in his own head.

Arthur remembered the whispered conversations he’d overheard as a child. About how magic was celebrated and revered in Camelot and all throughout Albion for centuries, before his father became King. Even several years into his reign, magic was an integral part of the kingdom, as seen by the dragonlords and court sorcerers like Nimueh, who used to be his friends.

Until one day when father decided it was evil and unleashed a purge that has lasted nearly thirty years…What was his explanation, Arthur wondered? For years, he’d been told that magic killed his mother; how that happened was never explained.

The incessant talk of the wickedness that was magic was inescapable. Everyone believed it was evil so it must be evil. But how can one man decide the natural forces of the universe is a wickedness, and try to eradicate it?

Arthur dreaded the idea that Morgause had told him the truth. At the time, he had refused to accept the notion that his father could willingly do such a thing. To bargain a life, anyone’s, let alone his wife’s, for that of an heir…well, now he realised it was precisely the sort of thing Uther Pendragon would do.

Arthur cursed and gripped the reins tighter. Merlin had always said he needed to control his emotions. It was this lack of control that had landed them in this situation in the first place. He could ruminate about his father's follies another time — right now, he had a manservant to save.

—

They find Merlin’s bag and belongings a few hours' ride away from the Citadel. A small camp had been made there, the fire had burnt out, and Merlin’s belongings lay scattered across the wet grass. Hengroen was still tied to the tree.

“This belongs to Merlin,” Percival spoke as he picked up a small dragon carved from wood. “He showed it to me once…said it was his family’s.” Everyone stared at the small dragon with a sense of pity and sadness. Arthur packed up the bags and tied them to his horse. He refused to cry again.

It was Leon who brought him out of his thoughts. “Sire! Look, track marks. Someone was dragged that way.”

—

Gaius lay dead on the floor, and Merlin was still chained to the ceiling with cold iron. He had failed to save his uncle's life, and he would carry that guilt with him for the rest of his own.

Gaius had told the Catha Priest what he needed to know before he died, but the man had refused to bend for Morgana and had instead left to raise an army in Emrys' name. Frustrated that his role as a spy in Arthur’s court was revealed, and angry that the priest had refused him, Agravaine had decided to make Merlin his new victim.

While Agravaine has been torturing him for information for hours, Merlin was never going to crack. No matter how hard he hits or how deep he cuts, nothing can make Merlin betray his king.

“Accept it, Merlin. Morgana has probably killed Arthur by now. There is nothing left for you back in Camelot, not after your little speech.” He gloated, twirling a dagger in his hands.

Merlin scoffed at the pathetic display. “Arthur isn’t dead. I would know it in my heart if his had stopped. There would not be air in my lungs if he had stopped breathing. My King is alive; I know it in my soul.” He replied with pride.

A hard fist met his face, and he felt his lip split open. Merlin smiled.

Agravaine had no idea he had actually captured the fabled Emrys he had spent months trying to find. He only knew Merlin as Arthur’s pet servant. It had better stay that way, at least until he got out of these chains.

“You know I will never break, you know this is fruitless. Just let me go.” Merlin tried to bargain, but it was too much to hope that Agravaine would ever let him live.

“Never.” Agravaine was but a mortal man, while Merlin was the last dragonlord. He was Emrys. His head was no longer spinning, and his anger was burning hot, fuelling the magic that flowed through his veins.

He held the blade up to Merlin’s face. “Any last words before I gut you like a rat?” He laughed, and Merlin jutted his chin up in a defiant manner. He taunted the man who held no power over him.

“Long Live King Arthur!” Merlin chanted with a huge busted-lipped grin. While he had no plan of dying today, he had always wanted to die knowing he stayed true to his king with his last breath in life.

The cold iron chains may have dampened his magic, but he could still feel it simmering beneath his skin. Merlin summoned all his strength to break the chains. He could hear the metal crackle and the chains splinter apart.

Agravaine was thankfully too bloodthirsty to notice the outstanding magic taking place in front of him. He aimed the knife at Merlin’s chest.

But he was too late — within half a second, a flurry of red capes and silver armour appeared through the cave opening, surrounding Agravaine at sword point. Six knights stood strong, swords drawn, ready for battle.

They had found him! His knights. His friends. They had come for him, just as he had hoped they would. He could see Arthur standing tall in the midst of them, his golden hair looking like a crown adorning his head, as he kept his sword pointed at Agravaine.

Merlin could taste his freedom mixed with the blood in his mouth. The worst week of his life was finally over, and Arthur had come to find him. His King.

“Drop the knife,” Arthur commanded his uncle, who was so shocked by their entrance that he didn’t have time to react properly. Sirs Leon and Percival were on him immediately, and grabbed his arms to the side, holding him tightly.

The chains holding Merlin’s arms above his head were loose now, and he wiggled them out as best he could. Gwaine yanked them down from the wall and helped him get free. His muscles screamed in pain from being held up in an unnatural position for days, but he didn’t care because Gwaine was hugging him.

“Where’s Gaius?” He whispered to him as he held Merlin in his arms.

“He died last night,” Said Merlin calmly. He pointed with his hands to the right side of the cave, where it wormed itself further into the mountains. “He’s in there.”

With sad looks on their faces, Gwaine and Lancelot tried to get him out of the cave, but Merlin resisted. He shook them off his shoulders and turned to face his uncle's killer.

They were both kneeling on the ground before King Arthur’s feet. They look into each other's eyes. Blue met fury. “Before you die, I want you to know something. And I want you to hear it from me.”

Everyone stilled at Merlin’s hard tone. “I lied to you. I know who Emrys is, and I know where he is.” Merlin taunted the older man.

“You’re looking at him.”

Agravaine scoffed and hurtled insults after him, but Percival and Leon held him back.“You? Emrys? Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin. You’re nothing more than a servant.” He spat.

“Exactly. I was born to serve my King.” Merlin’s stone cold voice left no room for doubt. Something seemed to register in Agravaine's eyes, and the man shook with anger. Merlin was always there, always by Arthur’s side. Always foiling his plans.

“And you will die with that information. You will die knowing you failed your mistress. You will die a traitor and a failure; Morgana won’t mourn you. She won’t even notice your death. She never cared about you.”

“We were going to be King and Queen together!”

Arthur inhaled sharply at this remark but kept his sword hand still. Merlin laughed painfully as his broken ribs dug into his organs.

“Is that what you think? Tell me, my lord? Did she ever allow you to get closer than the occasional brush of arms or a kiss on the cheek? No. She never cared about you; she only used you to get revenge on Arthur, and as soon as you proved useless, she planned to kill you without a second thought. You were nothing but a convenience to her.”

Painful humiliation and hurt flashed across the man’s face. He looked struck with grief over his lady and their supposed love. “And you will die knowing you insulted Ygraine's memory.”

Lancelor kept a steady hand on Merlin, who was tired of hiding. Arthur was about to discover his magic, but at least he had proven Agravaine’s betrayal.

“I am Emrys, and I have harnessed the power over life and death. I know you wish to see your dear brother and sister in Avalon, but that’s not where you’re headed.” He paused for a moment, looking into the man’s eyes. “And I think you know it.”

Agravaine swallowed uncomfortably. Percival tightened his grip on him. No one spoke.

“Say hi to Uther for me.” Merlin grinned before Lancelot and Gwaine helped him stand up and carried him out of the cave.

—

Arthur stood before his kneeling uncle. “Lord Agravaine.” He began, his voice stone cold. For once, Arthur didn’t feel guilty about sentencing a man to death. Nor did he feel grief about losing a family member.

“You stand accused of high treason, of murder and torture. There will be no trial. You’ve proved your guilt before us all, and for that, you will pay with your life.”

His uncle had no chance to speak up before Arthur aimed his sword and swung. A wet swishing sound echoed in the cave as his throat was slit open. No more words were spoken. Percival dropped the man’s limp shoulders, and Agravaine fell flat on the ground. Dead.

Arthur felt cathartic. His uncle was dead. Good. He had killed his last living blood relative. And he was proud of it. He would kill a hundred more family members if it meant Merlin’s safety.

Looking around the cave they were all standing in, he could see the blood splatters soaking into the ground and walls. He could tell the cave went further in, where Gaius was. Leon, Percy, and Elyan went in search of the physician while Arthur walked back out after Merlin.

He sees his friend cradled in Gwaine's arms and Lancelot attempting to assess his injuries. There was a lot of blood and bruises. Merlin winced as Lance's hands touched his chest.

Arthur stumbled over to him, soaking in the sight of Merlin alive and breathing. He was alive! Thank the Gods. Arthur knelt and reached out to him.

Arthur was so overcome with relief at seeing Merlin alive that he kissed his face. A quick press of his lips to Merlin’s forehead, and then cheek, an expression he would never normally have shown. But he simply didn’t care anymore. Merlin was alive — even if he never found it in his soul to forgive Arthur —he could at least rest knowing his friend was alive. He tried to speak, “Merlin, I...”

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Arthur. And I’m sorry too. I never wanted you to see me like that. And I’m sorry your uncle didn’t love you the way you deserve.”

Kind, sweet Merlin, always thinking of others before himself. Arthur tried to smile at him, but it looked more like a grimace. Things between them had changed. He took Merlin’s hand in his and kissed it. “I am the one who’s sorry, Merlin. I’m sorry for not listening, for not being the King and friend you deserve, and I’m so sorry, Gaius...” He hiccuped.

Gathering his senses, Arthur opened his eyes and spoke more clearly. “He will have a funeral of honour.”

“No!” Merlin refused, wincing against the bandages Lancelot applied to his chest. “Gaius spent the last twenty-seven years of his life fearing the pyre. He died loyal to Camelot. Please, Arthur, grant him some dignity in death. Don’t burn him now.”

“Alright, Merlin, I hear you.” Arthur treaded carefully around the topic of his old mentor's death. “How…how would you like it done?”

“Can you take us to the lake at the edge of the forest? It’s less than an hour's ride away. The goddess who lives in the lake will ensure his safe passing to Avalon.”

“Oh,” Arthur seemed confused, but he was past the point of asking questions. Whatever he could do to make Merlin forgive him, if he ever could, he would do.

Three knights emerge from the cavern, carrying the old man between them. They had wrapped him in their capes. Arthur was ashamed to admit he was happy he was spared the sight of the old man’s wounded body.

No man is worth your fears, father had once told him. But it had been years since he last believed in it. As they placed Gaius’s body down on the ground near them, Arthur looked at him.

He sobbed over the dead man whom he had loved like an uncle. “I’m so sorry. You deserved so much more, and I failed you. I swear I will honour your name every day for as long as I live. Your death is on my hands, but your life will live on in our memories.”

Merlin leaned into Arthur and gripped his hand tighter. He leaned back into him. The ground was cold beneath them, and the air was crisp. “We should leave if you want to get to the lake before nightfall.”

Lancelot brought his horse over to them. “I will carry him.”

“No, he should be with me,” Merlin tried to argue, but the two knights shut him down.

“You are too injured, my friend. You cannot hold onto both the horse and Gaius. He will be safe with me, you should ride with someone else, though.”

They start their journey to the lake, Lancelot with Gaius and Arthur with Merlin. The other knights formed a half circle around them for protection. The lake Merlin spoke of was close enough, and Arthur allowed himself a moment to breathe in Merlin’s presence. Arthur cradled him like he was the most precious cargo. The warrior king used gentle hands and a kind voice as he spoke to his servant. He held onto Merlin as they made their way.

He didn’t know how to bring up what Morgana had done to Hunith, but the truth was what Merlin deserved. Arthur explained as gently and calmly as he could because Merlin needed to hear this from him. “Your mother is safe in Camelot.”

“Why is she there?” Merlin tried to look back at him, but with his painful ribs, he couldn’t move much. He leaned back into Arthur’s arms instead.

“Morgana took her and tortured her for information. Your dragon brought her to me. She is safe with Gwen now and being looked after carefully.”

Merlin’s face set hard. His jaw clicked shut, and Arthur felt uneasy. The ground underneath them started rumbling like thunder; gravel and dirt fell away, and Arthur felt the ground shaking under Llamreis’ hooves.

The sky darkened and Arthur felt the telltale sign of lightning forming above in the clouds. Had any other sorcerer done this, he would have been petrified, but as it was Merlin, his Merlin, he was able to calm himself.

He steadied Merlin, who was sizzling with magic, golden sparks flickering between his fingertips. “Breathe, my love. Your mother is alive and safe; you will see her as soon as we return home.” He pressed his lips into Merlin’s head, not exactly kissing him, but the gesture wasn’t platonic either.

“I guess I should apologise for lying about you killing a dragon,” Merlin mumbled as he calmed down.

“I’m glad he’s alive, if only to look after Hunith. But I'm a little sad that I can no longer claim the feat of dragonslayer.” Arthur tried to joke before he continued. “He said Morgana was still on fire when he fled with Hunith. I’m not sure if she’s alive, but I reckon she is. Apparently, she suspects that Emrys is working against her.”

Arthur didn’t know who or what Emrys was, but if Merlin told Agravaine the truth then he had no reason to worry. If Merlin was this Emrys, then he knew Camelot was safe.

“Is he?” Arthur whispered into Merlin’s hair.

“With every fiber of his being.”

—

They sit and watch Gaius's body being sent off into the lake. The boat Merlin had conjured sailed away quietly, bobbing gently in the waves. Merlin had kept a silent vigil over the funeral for a while before he looked over at Arthur.

“I have magic.” There was no point denying it any longer.

Arhrur huffed a little laugh. “I figured it out on my own. I’m not entirely useless, you know.” Arthur teased, but his eyes were still wet. “I don’t care, Merlin. I have questions, many of them in fact, but all I care about right now is getting you back home. You’re alive! That's all that matters to me.”

The other knights pretended not to be listening as Merlin and Arthur had their necessary talk. “You called me love,” Merlin said, but it was a question.

“I did…”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what you are. You are my love.” Arthur had never been more confident. As he held Merlin’s hand in his, their legs pressed up against each other on the stony shore, and he finally felt at ease.

“Does that mean my banishment is lifted, that I can come back?” Merlin’s eyes glistened, but a smile was forming on his face.

“You were never actually banished! Camelot is your home, and your mother is there now too. I want you to come home.” Arthur retorted.

“Then why did you threaten it?”

“Because your words frightened me, it angered me. I was so afraid of losing the last family member I had that I pushed away the only true friend I’ve ever known. And it scared me that you always knew me so well, that you could read me like an open book.”

Merlin smiled at him and pressed their foreheads together. Ever so gently, he threaded his fingers through Arthur’s new-grown beard.

“We know each other so well because we’re connected through destiny. Our souls were chosen for each other. I was born for you. Some say we’re two sides of the same coin — one is always connected to the other.”

“Does that mean you love me too?” Arthur dared to ask, only to be met with a rather unbecoming snort. “Of course I do, you dollophead. I always have, with everything that I am.”

Despite the busted lip and the blood in his hair, Merlin smiled as brightly as he could. Arthur had never seen a more beautiful sight.

“Will I ever earn your forgiveness?” He whispered to his lover, friend, and servant.

“You already have it. But I don’t think I deserve yours…I’ve lied too many times and done so many horrible things. People are dead because of me.”

“Did you have a good reason for your actions?” Arthur asked while he stroked a piece of dark hair behind his ears.

“Sometimes, yes. Other times, no”

“Then we shall talk about it. And we shall listen and cry together. But know that I have already forgiven you for anything you might’ve done, just as you have forgiven me for this.”

—

“Never letting you out of my sight ever again,” Arthur murmured into Merlin’s soft, damp hair. One hand clutched at his neck and the other at his waist, holding him tight, tight, tight. He had practically carried Merlin up the stairs and into the castle upon their return.

“No? Never?” He huffed a little defiantly into the king's shoulder. It hurt to laugh, but he was too elated to be back with his king to care.

“No, you’d just get into all kinds of trouble.” Arthur tried to joke, and Merlin coughed a little laugh. It was a delightful sound, Arthur thought. One he would happily spend the rest of his life listening to.

“I didn’t do half bad without you, you know.”

“Don’t go fishing for compliments, Merlin; it's unbecoming of the King's servant.”

“So I still have my job?” Merlin tried to joke back, but really, he should know his king better by now, for Arthur just scoffed.

“You’re my manservant, terrible as you are, always late and eating my food, you’re still mine. My rooms are a mess, you know, and I haven’t shaved in over a week. You’re gonna have to work overtime to make up for your lazy ways.”

—

Merlin spent the next few days being tended to by Farris, while Gwen and Arthur fretted about him like his mother would’ve. Arthur had practically glued himself to his side the last few days. While still tending to his kingdom and preparing for an inevitable attack by Morgana, he spent whatever time he had with Merlin.

Huntih was getting better, but she still relied on sleeping draughts to avoid nightmares. Merlin stayed with her every day, speaking in gentle tones and reading to her. As she smiled at him with all the love a mother has, Merlin swore to the Goddess he would fulfill his destiny and kill Morgana.

—

A week after his return to Camelot, Merlin was about to fall asleep next to Arthur. He rested his head on his broad chest, loving the warmth and safety of their embrace. He closed his eyes in happiness. After everything that had happened, after all their conversations and tears, his king still loved him. Arthur had chosen him over his father's old laws, over propriety and dignity, and his king had never seemed happier.

The king held his whole world in his arms as he hugged Merlin tighter. “I don’t deserve your loyalty,” Arthur mumbled into the dark, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s forehead. His skin was warm against Merlin's, who only curled closer into him.

Merlin rolled his eyes before he looked up at him and kissed his jaw. One day, Arthur would come to forgive himself, but until then, Merlin would have to remind him of their shared forgiveness.

“Still, you will always have it.”

The end.

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