[Fic] A Long Wait Until The End (G) Merlin: A/G, M/M
Title: A Long Wait Until The End
Author: faynia
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Gwen, Merlin/Morgana, slight OT4 tendencies
Word Count: 3838
Rating: G
Summary: It had been fourteen hours since Merlin last heard Arthur admit that he didn't know everything.
A/N: Written for desertrose9 whose been sick all week and needed the best kind of cuddles the internet could provide.
Beta read by windout and inabathrobe. (&hearts them) The rest of the mistakes are my fault.
"She's not dying."
Merlin cast a long glance at the milling crowd congregating outside the Queen's chambers, all with equally somber faces. Fear turned Arthur's face grey and ashen, and a sickly hue haunted the skin around his eyes. It wasn't normal, that was for sure. Merlin rubbed his own arms through what felt like miles of thick cloth and moved to stand beside Arthur.
The open window revealed a growing crowd in the courtyard of the castle with a tangible air of anticipation and worry.
"Arthur?" Merlin rested a hand on Arthur's arm uncertainly, inching closer to his side.
"What is it, Merlin? Can't you see that I'm--"
"About to throw up out the window? Doubt that'd earn you any friends, sire."
"Quiet." Arthur pulled back, elbowing Merlin in the ribs. A ghost of a smile hovered around his lips for a few seconds before it was gone. Merlin grinned. "Don't you have... things you could be doing? Useful things?"
"I am doing something," Merlin told him. "I'm keeping you from barging in through that door."
"That was you?" Arthur groaned and rubbed his face, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. Merlin thought he heard someone gasp on the far end of the corridor, a reaction to seeing the King act very much like a frightened child and not a king at all. Or Merlin was going mad. Arthur would think so at least. That is, he would, if he didn't look close to tears. "What is taking them so long?"
"They haven't been in there all that long yet. It takes time."
"And you would know this how?"
Merlin shifted, dragging his heavy, ugly robes up off the ground before sitting down alongside Arthur. He bumped him with his shoulder, settling back into the rough stone.
"Ealdor isn't that big?" Merlin frowned. "It's supposed to be this big kind of celebration."
"My people are frightened for her. They're worried she'll end like my mother."
"They follow you. You're not exactly in a good mood yourself."
"I'm not--" Arthur bowed his head. His jaw tensed, clenching, and when he brought his gaze back up, Merlin swore he saw Arthur digging out of his worries and coming out determined. He tilted his head toward the window.
"They want to celebrate. They do," Merlin urged. "Give them a reason."
Arthur considered this a moment before standing and striding at a fast pace from the hall, leaving the nobility trailing after him in bewilderment. A few maids hiding in the alcoves peeked out to see Merlin sitting there with a daft smile on his face. He nodded to them and then at the window.
"Go on." They hesitated before dipping into awkward curtsies and rushing after their masters and mistresses. "You won't want to miss this."
Merlin licked his lips and then stood, nodding toward Gawain who was stuck guarding the door to Gwen's room, forced to keep his king at bay until he was told otherwise. With a quietly mumbled spell, the knight slumped to the ground, snoring. Merlin rolled up the sleeves of his robes, stepping over Gawain to enter the room.
All noise stopped for an uneasy moment before the midwives shrugged themselves from their shock and continued fussing around with the already neat preparations. They'd be doing this for more hours than Merlin cared to count, and while they were paying attention to mostly everything in the room but Gwen herself, Merlin centered his focus on her, snagging a damp cloth from a passing tray as he went. He hopped up onto the plumped mattress, winding his fingers through Gwen's.
"How is he? Is he--oh." Gwen's fingers tightened around Merlin's hand, squeezing painfully as her body curled inward. Merlin winced and held on, breathing for them both until she slumped backward, moisture glittering along her skin. "He hasn't been... You know how he gets, Merlin. Has he tried anything?"
"Yeah, did you not want him to?"
Gwen lowered her eyes with a tired smile. "Wait, why're you here, then? Shouldn't you be out there, too? With him, I mean. Not that I'm not glad you're here, of course. Just that, well, I've got them."
"Probably," Merlin agreed with a laugh. He brushed the cool cloth along her face, catching the frizzing ends of her hair and pushing them off her face. "What Arthur doesn't know..."
"Where is he?" Gwen asked. Her gaze flickered toward the door with fair amount of yearning.
"Making a speech, I think." Merlin hoped that was what Arthur was doing. With his luck, something large, flying and talon-y would be attacking him right then while Merlin couldn't do a thing to save him. "Something kingly and pompous."
"You can't-- Merlin, you shouldn't say things like that!"
" 'Course, I should." Merlin leaned forward, glancing around in a conspiratorial manner. "Someone has to since you don't want to anymore."
"Merlin!"
"Yes, your majesty?"
Gwen frowned, her lips pinching in distress, and for a moment, Merlin thought she was in pain again when the expression eased into a playful smirk. Merlin swatted at her with the cloth.
"Tell him I'm fine, would you?" she begged, trying to sit up further. "Please? It's normal; nothing's--" Gwen grasped for a word to fit, and Merlin interrupted her with a quiet cough.
"Wrong?"
She sighed and fell back against the pillows, stroking a hand over her hardened stomach. Merlin followed the light swirl of her index finger over the large curve of her belly and found it hard to hide his amusement. "He won't believe it. Will he?"
"It's Arthur," Merlin reminded her, shaking his head. Arthur wasn't going to believe anything until he could see for himself. And that meant Merlin couldn't stay here with Gwen as long as he might have wanted to. He had to keep the headstrong prat from bursting in through the unguarded doors and upsetting everyone in the room --said prat's wife included. The word still made Merlin want to giggle like a maid.
"I wish he were here," Gwen whispered, drawing Merlin back to her plight. He nodded, bent forward, and kissed her forehead. Her skin was warm, feverish, but Merlin knew that was a good thing for the moment.
"He wants to be. Believe me," Merlin finished wryly. "He really wants to be."
A spasm tightened Gwen's hand around his own; she hissed through her teeth, leaning forward, bearing down on her stomach. Tears squeezed out the corners of her eyes, and a slow building whine sneaked past her clenched teeth. Merlin closed his eyes, willing the pain to be fleeting. He hadn't lied to Arthur. Being present at the birth of a child was a gift, a great gift. Merlin himself had seen a fair few between his childhood and working with Gaius, but never had his stomach twisted into knots and bumped up against his throat.
Arthur was only worse. Maybe it was hypocritical of him to tell Arthur to stop worrying when Merlin had been unable to stop since late the night before, but everyone needed Arthur to have a level head. Everyone, not just him or Gwen. The whole of Camelot was looking to their ruler for how to act. Waking up to a crowded, silent courtyard had been the strangest occurrence Merlin had ever witnessed before a birth. And it was all because Arthur had been going on like it was a funeral.
"Merlin?" Gwen panted, squeezing his hand anew, leaving Merlin wondering when she had even stopped. He grabbed the cloth and dipped it into the floating bowl of water beside them. He tried not to think of what else he might have accidentally done that day as he rubbed the back of her neck, lifting the stuck strands of curly brown hair off her sticky skin.
"Almost over," he said, catching her widening eyes. "I promise."
"No, Merlin, Arthur's-- he's--"
"Behind you."
Merlin startled, dropping Gwen's hand. The clay bowl dropped to the ground, shattering into large fragmented pieces. When Merlin turned, Arthur was standing less than a foot away from him, scowling. "What in God's name are you doing?"
"I-- Well, you see, the thing is--"
"Gawain's not happy with you," Arthur continued, ignoring Merlin's half-formed protests and sputtering. Probably for the best, Merlin reflected, climbing to his feet. "It would be best if you come now and apologize properly."
Merlin rolled his eyes and dodged Arthur's swipe at his head. He snagged the king by the back of his jacket and tugged. Arthur whirled around with a ready shout on his lips, but Merlin fled before it could even be uttered. Arthur would follow in his own time. The midwives wouldn't allow him to stay for more than a moment or two. With every confidence in the scary capabilities of those women, he stepped back into the crowded hall, relieved to see people milling around, talking amongst one another and not simply standing around like statuary.
Gawain was resting against the wall, sword held casually in his right hand and Merlin only had a second to dodge the point when he emerged.
"Er, Gawain?"
"Merlin." Gawain sheathed his sword but that didn't stop Merlin's pulse from jumping. "I thought we had a deal."
"We did. Do. I mean, I was just... Arthur's been such a prat. Someone had to make sure Gwen was fine. Which she is if you were curious."
"Considering His Majesty hasn't yet come storming out, I guessed as much."
"Sorry?" Merlin tried with an awkward half-smile.
"Accepted. Warn me next time though? It's not a lot of fun being prodded awake with a sword."
Tension drained from Merlin's shoulders, and he nodded easily. Gawain shook his head, straightening as the door opened to emit a frazzled but pleased-looking Arthur.
"Happy?"
Arthur snapped to attention, whirling to face Merlin with a deeply displeased scowl. "You idiot. You could have done that all along, couldn't you?"
"Well, yeah, but then we'd have a whole angry mob and not just Gawain."
Arthur glared, slapping his palm upside Merlin's head before stalking off down the corridor toward his own chambers. Merlin glared at the servant boy who moved to follow before taking off after him instead.
It was the longest twelve hours of his life. Merlin watched as Arthur turned on the heel of his boot, pacing before the dying fire even as the sun began to rise beyond the castle walls. Merlin peered out across the city blearily, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Slowly, down below, the streets began to wake; candles were dimmed and stored away as people began to make their way about their daily business. If anything, the crowd before the castle was growing, people coming from the far reaches of this and adjoining kingdoms, most bearing gifts and good words. Merlin longed to walk in between them just to get out of the castle.
"What could possibly be taking so long?"
"You could have slept," Merlin volunteered, hiding a yawn in the sleeves of his dark blue robes. Arthur grunted and threw something that missed Merlin's neck by a few inches and clattered to the floor. "Right, guess not, then."
"You're really beginning to become a nuisance."
"Better than an arrogant clot," Merlin muttered, pushing from the window to see Arthur had thrown himself into his chair. "It's normal. Remember?"
"So you've said." Arthur gripped the arms of his chair, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. "Get us some breakfast."
Merlin went, doubting that Arthur would touch any of it once it arrived, even if he stayed in the room long enough to receive it. Poking his head out into the hall, he snagged a passing maid with a crook of his finger and a jerk of his head, slipping out of the room when she slowed to relay the directions Arthur had given him.
He didn't bother returning to make sure Arthur wasn't throwing things or suffocating himself in the fur of his chair. Conjuring a small ball of flame, he trod down the shadowed corridors leading into the deeper parts of the castle at an easy clip. These halls were as familiar to him now as the forests surrounding Ealdor once were, and he found himself smiling into the silence. Anything was better than watching Arthur go mad because he was too impatient.
He took the back steps down toward the servants' quarters, nodding at the few who were running around, washing and hanging linens. He ducked under a sheet and headed further in. Everywhere he turned, there was some small cluster discussing the events of the upcoming day, usually happily, though some with a sort of annoyance that came from knowing that this would mean more work for them in the long run.
Merlin didn't blame them.
Taking the increase of grumbling as his cue, he slipped out into the next hall, shutting the heavy door behind him. There was no guessing how long this day would be or how long he could escape Arthur's notice without making him angry. He kicked at a loose stone in the floor and then repaired it with a flash of his eye. All they could do was wait, something Merlin was never really all that good at.
"You're usually better at this, Merlin."
Merlin paused mid-step, turning toward the source of the voice and an open door. He blinked at the slight figure standing there with her hair flowing freely over her shoulders and tickling her waist-line. It had been nearly a year; just a few more weeks and it would have been. Despite that, a smile burst onto Merlin's face, and he reached for Morgana as she grabbed for him.
Her hood tumbled off her head as she buried her face in the collar of Merlin's robes. He gripped her close, breathing out a soft sigh of relief.
"Am I too late?" she questioned in a hushed whisper, dragging Merlin backward into the room. "I came as quickly as I could."
"Morgana, did anyone--"
She scoffed, tucking her loose hair behind her ear. "As if anyone ever notices my coming or going."
Merlin frowned and said nothing, taking her back into a tight hug and holding on as fiercely as he dared. They both knew she was here on borrowed time. No amount of repeals could fix the broken trust between Camelot's people and Morgana. Her banishment had come with great hailing by much of the castle's inhabitants. Arthur had fought it as long as he dared, begging with his own court to let her stay, at least once a year, without being hassled. He could have imposed the decision as king, but even Merlin knew to do so would be disaster.
He kissed the side of her hair, breathing in the scent of forest and wood smoke.
"Gwen needs you," he answered.
"She needs a lot more than that, I'm sure." Morgana took her hair in hand and knotted it at the base of her neck, drawing up the hood of her forest green cloak over it. "Where's Arthur? No doubt creating a scene."
Merlin shrugged, leaning back into the hall. No one was coming, and he took Morgana by the hand, leading her back in the direction he had come. "I don't know. He didn't sleep much last night."
"Poor boy."
Sniggering, Merlin curled Morgana in close to his side, whispering a few words to cause her to vanish, while staying firm and warm against his side. Their movements were practiced as they passed through the crowded laundry room and made it to the steps. Merlin kept his expression neutral until the reached the upper corridor; there, he picked up speed and urged Morgana to keep up without looking or talking to her.
He pressed open the unbarred door to Arthur's bedroom. "Arthur, are you still--" he began, but Arthur wasn't willing to wait.
"There you are, Merlin. What kept you?"
"He ran into trouble," Morgana spoke up as she breezed past Merlin through the open door. Merlin chuckled at Arthur's stunned expression and dismissed the spell. He grinned widely when Arthur spun on the spot and swept Morgana into a large hug. "Honestly, Arthur," she chided, casting a despairing glance in Merlin's direction while wrapping her arms around Arthur's neck. "Did you miss me?"
"Morgana, you shouldn't be here," Arthur said, grasping her frail arms and holding her away from him.
"As if I would miss this." Morgana tilted her chin. "It's been haunting my dreams for weeks. You'll just have to deal with it."
"Haunting?" Arthur's eyes narrowed, and Merlin stepped forward to intervene if he needed to. The trouble was that he had no idea how. "Morgana."
"She'll be fine." Morgana patted Arthur's cheek fondly, causing a dulled flush to rise into Arthur's face. "Stop worrying so."
"It's been two days."
"Oh, has it?" Morgana peered over her shoulder. "Merlin?"
Merlin shook his head and held up his hands.
"I thought so." She turned her attention back to Arthur's storming expression. "Arthur, you're going to have to calm down. Do you want Gwen to worry?"
"Of course, I don't."
"Then relax. Here, have your breakfast before it gets cold. You don't want to waste your food."
Someone cleared their throat in the doorway, and the three turned to face the young maid who was balancing a tray off food, gawking at Morgana before remembering her place. She ducked into a deep curtsy and set the food on the table where Arthur was pointing. Never once raising her head, she left the room as hurriedly as she had come, leaving them standing there with varied expressions.
Arthur was the one to break the silence. "You'll have to go."
"Not until I've seen Gwen."
"It isn't safe here, Morgana. And I can't dog your steps to protect you."
"I don't need your protection at any rate. I've survived this long without you, haven't I? There are worse things in the world than a drunken lord who is clumsy with his weapon."
Merlin shivered, unable to look away from her. They never asked. Asking was out of the question, but he would give just about anything to know who he had to kill for putting that edge in her tone. She stood tall in the center of Arthur's bedchambers as if she lived there still and had the undeniable right to be exactly where she was.
He caught her by the arms, feeling her tense and flinch beneath his palms before slowly settling. "Arthur..."
"Your Majesty?"
Arthur spun, sword in hand with a threatened glint in his eyes. The very air in the room stilled with its occupants.
"What is it now?" Arthur snarled, leveling his sword at the elderly servant's head. The man stared it down, unruffled in the slightest, making Merlin's opinion of the man rise considerably. Anyone who could keep a straight face while on the opposite end of Arthur's sword was a bit of a hero, really.
The servant bowed low. "You have a son, sire."
Merlin released Morgana and turned toward the servant with a wide smile. "You can probably go. I'll make sure His Majesty gets there." Dismissed, the man swiftly left the room, shaking his head. "You know, I'm pretty sure Gwen's going to want you right about now. You should probably g--"
Arthur dropped his sword to the ground and shoved past Merlin, running from the room.
Merlin waited a beat before risking a glance in Morgana's direction. "He'll be fine."
"I'm sure," she agreed, linking her arm through Merlin's, "but just to be certain..."
Merlin scratched the side of his neck and fell in step with Morgana. "We should... probably get him to slow down, yeah?"
"You're too good to him, Merlin." Morgana laughed freely as Merlin held up his hand and cast a spell on the King's backside. Arthur stumbled forward, losing his footing and fell with an angry yelp to the floor. "Careful, Arthur. The floor is slick."
"Merlin, what in the hell do you think you're doing?"
"It wasn't me."
"Do that again and I'll make sure you find the fastest way down the stairs."
Merlin glanced around him in feigned confusion. "Right, of course, sire. Here, let me just--" He bent and hauled Arthur up by the arm. "See, nothing wrong."
"You're going to get me killed."
"No, no, I'm pretty sure that's what I was preventing from happening, yeah."
Arthur tore his arm away and stalked down the stairs, leaving Merlin and Morgana to follow at a more sedate pace. Halfway down, Merlin spelled Morgana invisible once more, more of a necessity now than it had been before. He felt her hand slip away from his arm, catching at his robes with careful fingers.
It was a battle, fighting their way toward the doors of Gwen's chambers. Arthur's path lay clear before him, but as soon as he passed, a crush of people filled the open space. Merlin kept stepping on people's toes --sometimes deliberately-- to keep pace with him, and Morgana didn't fair any better.
He stopped once he got to the doorway, glaring at all the self-entitled nobles before sweeping in as ungracefully as ever, catching the doors and letting Morgana enter before slamming them shut in eager faces. He sagged forward against them, wordlessly revealing Morgana to the remaining inhabitants of the room. He enjoyed Gwen's tired but still delighted cry of excitement.
When Merlin lifted his head, he found Arthur standing before him with a passel of blankets and a frightened expression.
"I don't know what I'm doing."
It had been fourteen hours since Arthur had admitted that very same thing to him when Gwen had been carried to a separate chamber. Merlin shrugged and gestured toward the bed where Morgana was tenderly stroking Gwen's forehead, brushing her hair back as they talked in quiet tones.
Arthur's mouth twisted and turned, finally letting loose the smile Merlin knew must have been hiding since he'd received the news.
"May I see him? Please?" Gwen held out her arms sluggishly, struggling to sit up. Morgana slipped her arms around the other woman's shoulders to help. "I haven't... I just want to see him."
Arthur surged into action, cradling the infant close to his chest, awkward and unsure while moving closer to Gwen's bedside. Merlin thought he could see Arthur cataloging every inch of the newborn's pinched face even as he settled on the soft mattress, pressing in close to Gwen's side.
They'd be all right, he decided, hanging back by the door. Even if Arthur looked paler than ever before and Gwen seemed ready to pass out from exhaustion, Merlin knew they'd be all right. Morgana stood, leaving Arthur to support Gwen and joined Merlin at his side.
"Do you think we should tell Arthur he's holding that poor child wrong?" she asked with ill-concealed happiness.
Merlin's nose wrinkled in amusement. "No. He might actually drop him."
Morgana merely laughed.
Author: faynia
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Gwen, Merlin/Morgana, slight OT4 tendencies
Word Count: 3838
Rating: G
Summary: It had been fourteen hours since Merlin last heard Arthur admit that he didn't know everything.
A/N: Written for desertrose9 whose been sick all week and needed the best kind of cuddles the internet could provide.
Beta read by windout and inabathrobe. (&hearts them) The rest of the mistakes are my fault.
"She's not dying."
Merlin cast a long glance at the milling crowd congregating outside the Queen's chambers, all with equally somber faces. Fear turned Arthur's face grey and ashen, and a sickly hue haunted the skin around his eyes. It wasn't normal, that was for sure. Merlin rubbed his own arms through what felt like miles of thick cloth and moved to stand beside Arthur.
The open window revealed a growing crowd in the courtyard of the castle with a tangible air of anticipation and worry.
"Arthur?" Merlin rested a hand on Arthur's arm uncertainly, inching closer to his side.
"What is it, Merlin? Can't you see that I'm--"
"About to throw up out the window? Doubt that'd earn you any friends, sire."
"Quiet." Arthur pulled back, elbowing Merlin in the ribs. A ghost of a smile hovered around his lips for a few seconds before it was gone. Merlin grinned. "Don't you have... things you could be doing? Useful things?"
"I am doing something," Merlin told him. "I'm keeping you from barging in through that door."
"That was you?" Arthur groaned and rubbed his face, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. Merlin thought he heard someone gasp on the far end of the corridor, a reaction to seeing the King act very much like a frightened child and not a king at all. Or Merlin was going mad. Arthur would think so at least. That is, he would, if he didn't look close to tears. "What is taking them so long?"
"They haven't been in there all that long yet. It takes time."
"And you would know this how?"
Merlin shifted, dragging his heavy, ugly robes up off the ground before sitting down alongside Arthur. He bumped him with his shoulder, settling back into the rough stone.
"Ealdor isn't that big?" Merlin frowned. "It's supposed to be this big kind of celebration."
"My people are frightened for her. They're worried she'll end like my mother."
"They follow you. You're not exactly in a good mood yourself."
"I'm not--" Arthur bowed his head. His jaw tensed, clenching, and when he brought his gaze back up, Merlin swore he saw Arthur digging out of his worries and coming out determined. He tilted his head toward the window.
"They want to celebrate. They do," Merlin urged. "Give them a reason."
Arthur considered this a moment before standing and striding at a fast pace from the hall, leaving the nobility trailing after him in bewilderment. A few maids hiding in the alcoves peeked out to see Merlin sitting there with a daft smile on his face. He nodded to them and then at the window.
"Go on." They hesitated before dipping into awkward curtsies and rushing after their masters and mistresses. "You won't want to miss this."
Merlin licked his lips and then stood, nodding toward Gawain who was stuck guarding the door to Gwen's room, forced to keep his king at bay until he was told otherwise. With a quietly mumbled spell, the knight slumped to the ground, snoring. Merlin rolled up the sleeves of his robes, stepping over Gawain to enter the room.
All noise stopped for an uneasy moment before the midwives shrugged themselves from their shock and continued fussing around with the already neat preparations. They'd be doing this for more hours than Merlin cared to count, and while they were paying attention to mostly everything in the room but Gwen herself, Merlin centered his focus on her, snagging a damp cloth from a passing tray as he went. He hopped up onto the plumped mattress, winding his fingers through Gwen's.
"How is he? Is he--oh." Gwen's fingers tightened around Merlin's hand, squeezing painfully as her body curled inward. Merlin winced and held on, breathing for them both until she slumped backward, moisture glittering along her skin. "He hasn't been... You know how he gets, Merlin. Has he tried anything?"
"Yeah, did you not want him to?"
Gwen lowered her eyes with a tired smile. "Wait, why're you here, then? Shouldn't you be out there, too? With him, I mean. Not that I'm not glad you're here, of course. Just that, well, I've got them."
"Probably," Merlin agreed with a laugh. He brushed the cool cloth along her face, catching the frizzing ends of her hair and pushing them off her face. "What Arthur doesn't know..."
"Where is he?" Gwen asked. Her gaze flickered toward the door with fair amount of yearning.
"Making a speech, I think." Merlin hoped that was what Arthur was doing. With his luck, something large, flying and talon-y would be attacking him right then while Merlin couldn't do a thing to save him. "Something kingly and pompous."
"You can't-- Merlin, you shouldn't say things like that!"
" 'Course, I should." Merlin leaned forward, glancing around in a conspiratorial manner. "Someone has to since you don't want to anymore."
"Merlin!"
"Yes, your majesty?"
Gwen frowned, her lips pinching in distress, and for a moment, Merlin thought she was in pain again when the expression eased into a playful smirk. Merlin swatted at her with the cloth.
"Tell him I'm fine, would you?" she begged, trying to sit up further. "Please? It's normal; nothing's--" Gwen grasped for a word to fit, and Merlin interrupted her with a quiet cough.
"Wrong?"
She sighed and fell back against the pillows, stroking a hand over her hardened stomach. Merlin followed the light swirl of her index finger over the large curve of her belly and found it hard to hide his amusement. "He won't believe it. Will he?"
"It's Arthur," Merlin reminded her, shaking his head. Arthur wasn't going to believe anything until he could see for himself. And that meant Merlin couldn't stay here with Gwen as long as he might have wanted to. He had to keep the headstrong prat from bursting in through the unguarded doors and upsetting everyone in the room --said prat's wife included. The word still made Merlin want to giggle like a maid.
"I wish he were here," Gwen whispered, drawing Merlin back to her plight. He nodded, bent forward, and kissed her forehead. Her skin was warm, feverish, but Merlin knew that was a good thing for the moment.
"He wants to be. Believe me," Merlin finished wryly. "He really wants to be."
A spasm tightened Gwen's hand around his own; she hissed through her teeth, leaning forward, bearing down on her stomach. Tears squeezed out the corners of her eyes, and a slow building whine sneaked past her clenched teeth. Merlin closed his eyes, willing the pain to be fleeting. He hadn't lied to Arthur. Being present at the birth of a child was a gift, a great gift. Merlin himself had seen a fair few between his childhood and working with Gaius, but never had his stomach twisted into knots and bumped up against his throat.
Arthur was only worse. Maybe it was hypocritical of him to tell Arthur to stop worrying when Merlin had been unable to stop since late the night before, but everyone needed Arthur to have a level head. Everyone, not just him or Gwen. The whole of Camelot was looking to their ruler for how to act. Waking up to a crowded, silent courtyard had been the strangest occurrence Merlin had ever witnessed before a birth. And it was all because Arthur had been going on like it was a funeral.
"Merlin?" Gwen panted, squeezing his hand anew, leaving Merlin wondering when she had even stopped. He grabbed the cloth and dipped it into the floating bowl of water beside them. He tried not to think of what else he might have accidentally done that day as he rubbed the back of her neck, lifting the stuck strands of curly brown hair off her sticky skin.
"Almost over," he said, catching her widening eyes. "I promise."
"No, Merlin, Arthur's-- he's--"
"Behind you."
Merlin startled, dropping Gwen's hand. The clay bowl dropped to the ground, shattering into large fragmented pieces. When Merlin turned, Arthur was standing less than a foot away from him, scowling. "What in God's name are you doing?"
"I-- Well, you see, the thing is--"
"Gawain's not happy with you," Arthur continued, ignoring Merlin's half-formed protests and sputtering. Probably for the best, Merlin reflected, climbing to his feet. "It would be best if you come now and apologize properly."
Merlin rolled his eyes and dodged Arthur's swipe at his head. He snagged the king by the back of his jacket and tugged. Arthur whirled around with a ready shout on his lips, but Merlin fled before it could even be uttered. Arthur would follow in his own time. The midwives wouldn't allow him to stay for more than a moment or two. With every confidence in the scary capabilities of those women, he stepped back into the crowded hall, relieved to see people milling around, talking amongst one another and not simply standing around like statuary.
Gawain was resting against the wall, sword held casually in his right hand and Merlin only had a second to dodge the point when he emerged.
"Er, Gawain?"
"Merlin." Gawain sheathed his sword but that didn't stop Merlin's pulse from jumping. "I thought we had a deal."
"We did. Do. I mean, I was just... Arthur's been such a prat. Someone had to make sure Gwen was fine. Which she is if you were curious."
"Considering His Majesty hasn't yet come storming out, I guessed as much."
"Sorry?" Merlin tried with an awkward half-smile.
"Accepted. Warn me next time though? It's not a lot of fun being prodded awake with a sword."
Tension drained from Merlin's shoulders, and he nodded easily. Gawain shook his head, straightening as the door opened to emit a frazzled but pleased-looking Arthur.
"Happy?"
Arthur snapped to attention, whirling to face Merlin with a deeply displeased scowl. "You idiot. You could have done that all along, couldn't you?"
"Well, yeah, but then we'd have a whole angry mob and not just Gawain."
Arthur glared, slapping his palm upside Merlin's head before stalking off down the corridor toward his own chambers. Merlin glared at the servant boy who moved to follow before taking off after him instead.
It was the longest twelve hours of his life. Merlin watched as Arthur turned on the heel of his boot, pacing before the dying fire even as the sun began to rise beyond the castle walls. Merlin peered out across the city blearily, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Slowly, down below, the streets began to wake; candles were dimmed and stored away as people began to make their way about their daily business. If anything, the crowd before the castle was growing, people coming from the far reaches of this and adjoining kingdoms, most bearing gifts and good words. Merlin longed to walk in between them just to get out of the castle.
"What could possibly be taking so long?"
"You could have slept," Merlin volunteered, hiding a yawn in the sleeves of his dark blue robes. Arthur grunted and threw something that missed Merlin's neck by a few inches and clattered to the floor. "Right, guess not, then."
"You're really beginning to become a nuisance."
"Better than an arrogant clot," Merlin muttered, pushing from the window to see Arthur had thrown himself into his chair. "It's normal. Remember?"
"So you've said." Arthur gripped the arms of his chair, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. "Get us some breakfast."
Merlin went, doubting that Arthur would touch any of it once it arrived, even if he stayed in the room long enough to receive it. Poking his head out into the hall, he snagged a passing maid with a crook of his finger and a jerk of his head, slipping out of the room when she slowed to relay the directions Arthur had given him.
He didn't bother returning to make sure Arthur wasn't throwing things or suffocating himself in the fur of his chair. Conjuring a small ball of flame, he trod down the shadowed corridors leading into the deeper parts of the castle at an easy clip. These halls were as familiar to him now as the forests surrounding Ealdor once were, and he found himself smiling into the silence. Anything was better than watching Arthur go mad because he was too impatient.
He took the back steps down toward the servants' quarters, nodding at the few who were running around, washing and hanging linens. He ducked under a sheet and headed further in. Everywhere he turned, there was some small cluster discussing the events of the upcoming day, usually happily, though some with a sort of annoyance that came from knowing that this would mean more work for them in the long run.
Merlin didn't blame them.
Taking the increase of grumbling as his cue, he slipped out into the next hall, shutting the heavy door behind him. There was no guessing how long this day would be or how long he could escape Arthur's notice without making him angry. He kicked at a loose stone in the floor and then repaired it with a flash of his eye. All they could do was wait, something Merlin was never really all that good at.
"You're usually better at this, Merlin."
Merlin paused mid-step, turning toward the source of the voice and an open door. He blinked at the slight figure standing there with her hair flowing freely over her shoulders and tickling her waist-line. It had been nearly a year; just a few more weeks and it would have been. Despite that, a smile burst onto Merlin's face, and he reached for Morgana as she grabbed for him.
Her hood tumbled off her head as she buried her face in the collar of Merlin's robes. He gripped her close, breathing out a soft sigh of relief.
"Am I too late?" she questioned in a hushed whisper, dragging Merlin backward into the room. "I came as quickly as I could."
"Morgana, did anyone--"
She scoffed, tucking her loose hair behind her ear. "As if anyone ever notices my coming or going."
Merlin frowned and said nothing, taking her back into a tight hug and holding on as fiercely as he dared. They both knew she was here on borrowed time. No amount of repeals could fix the broken trust between Camelot's people and Morgana. Her banishment had come with great hailing by much of the castle's inhabitants. Arthur had fought it as long as he dared, begging with his own court to let her stay, at least once a year, without being hassled. He could have imposed the decision as king, but even Merlin knew to do so would be disaster.
He kissed the side of her hair, breathing in the scent of forest and wood smoke.
"Gwen needs you," he answered.
"She needs a lot more than that, I'm sure." Morgana took her hair in hand and knotted it at the base of her neck, drawing up the hood of her forest green cloak over it. "Where's Arthur? No doubt creating a scene."
Merlin shrugged, leaning back into the hall. No one was coming, and he took Morgana by the hand, leading her back in the direction he had come. "I don't know. He didn't sleep much last night."
"Poor boy."
Sniggering, Merlin curled Morgana in close to his side, whispering a few words to cause her to vanish, while staying firm and warm against his side. Their movements were practiced as they passed through the crowded laundry room and made it to the steps. Merlin kept his expression neutral until the reached the upper corridor; there, he picked up speed and urged Morgana to keep up without looking or talking to her.
He pressed open the unbarred door to Arthur's bedroom. "Arthur, are you still--" he began, but Arthur wasn't willing to wait.
"There you are, Merlin. What kept you?"
"He ran into trouble," Morgana spoke up as she breezed past Merlin through the open door. Merlin chuckled at Arthur's stunned expression and dismissed the spell. He grinned widely when Arthur spun on the spot and swept Morgana into a large hug. "Honestly, Arthur," she chided, casting a despairing glance in Merlin's direction while wrapping her arms around Arthur's neck. "Did you miss me?"
"Morgana, you shouldn't be here," Arthur said, grasping her frail arms and holding her away from him.
"As if I would miss this." Morgana tilted her chin. "It's been haunting my dreams for weeks. You'll just have to deal with it."
"Haunting?" Arthur's eyes narrowed, and Merlin stepped forward to intervene if he needed to. The trouble was that he had no idea how. "Morgana."
"She'll be fine." Morgana patted Arthur's cheek fondly, causing a dulled flush to rise into Arthur's face. "Stop worrying so."
"It's been two days."
"Oh, has it?" Morgana peered over her shoulder. "Merlin?"
Merlin shook his head and held up his hands.
"I thought so." She turned her attention back to Arthur's storming expression. "Arthur, you're going to have to calm down. Do you want Gwen to worry?"
"Of course, I don't."
"Then relax. Here, have your breakfast before it gets cold. You don't want to waste your food."
Someone cleared their throat in the doorway, and the three turned to face the young maid who was balancing a tray off food, gawking at Morgana before remembering her place. She ducked into a deep curtsy and set the food on the table where Arthur was pointing. Never once raising her head, she left the room as hurriedly as she had come, leaving them standing there with varied expressions.
Arthur was the one to break the silence. "You'll have to go."
"Not until I've seen Gwen."
"It isn't safe here, Morgana. And I can't dog your steps to protect you."
"I don't need your protection at any rate. I've survived this long without you, haven't I? There are worse things in the world than a drunken lord who is clumsy with his weapon."
Merlin shivered, unable to look away from her. They never asked. Asking was out of the question, but he would give just about anything to know who he had to kill for putting that edge in her tone. She stood tall in the center of Arthur's bedchambers as if she lived there still and had the undeniable right to be exactly where she was.
He caught her by the arms, feeling her tense and flinch beneath his palms before slowly settling. "Arthur..."
"Your Majesty?"
Arthur spun, sword in hand with a threatened glint in his eyes. The very air in the room stilled with its occupants.
"What is it now?" Arthur snarled, leveling his sword at the elderly servant's head. The man stared it down, unruffled in the slightest, making Merlin's opinion of the man rise considerably. Anyone who could keep a straight face while on the opposite end of Arthur's sword was a bit of a hero, really.
The servant bowed low. "You have a son, sire."
Merlin released Morgana and turned toward the servant with a wide smile. "You can probably go. I'll make sure His Majesty gets there." Dismissed, the man swiftly left the room, shaking his head. "You know, I'm pretty sure Gwen's going to want you right about now. You should probably g--"
Arthur dropped his sword to the ground and shoved past Merlin, running from the room.
Merlin waited a beat before risking a glance in Morgana's direction. "He'll be fine."
"I'm sure," she agreed, linking her arm through Merlin's, "but just to be certain..."
Merlin scratched the side of his neck and fell in step with Morgana. "We should... probably get him to slow down, yeah?"
"You're too good to him, Merlin." Morgana laughed freely as Merlin held up his hand and cast a spell on the King's backside. Arthur stumbled forward, losing his footing and fell with an angry yelp to the floor. "Careful, Arthur. The floor is slick."
"Merlin, what in the hell do you think you're doing?"
"It wasn't me."
"Do that again and I'll make sure you find the fastest way down the stairs."
Merlin glanced around him in feigned confusion. "Right, of course, sire. Here, let me just--" He bent and hauled Arthur up by the arm. "See, nothing wrong."
"You're going to get me killed."
"No, no, I'm pretty sure that's what I was preventing from happening, yeah."
Arthur tore his arm away and stalked down the stairs, leaving Merlin and Morgana to follow at a more sedate pace. Halfway down, Merlin spelled Morgana invisible once more, more of a necessity now than it had been before. He felt her hand slip away from his arm, catching at his robes with careful fingers.
It was a battle, fighting their way toward the doors of Gwen's chambers. Arthur's path lay clear before him, but as soon as he passed, a crush of people filled the open space. Merlin kept stepping on people's toes --sometimes deliberately-- to keep pace with him, and Morgana didn't fair any better.
He stopped once he got to the doorway, glaring at all the self-entitled nobles before sweeping in as ungracefully as ever, catching the doors and letting Morgana enter before slamming them shut in eager faces. He sagged forward against them, wordlessly revealing Morgana to the remaining inhabitants of the room. He enjoyed Gwen's tired but still delighted cry of excitement.
When Merlin lifted his head, he found Arthur standing before him with a passel of blankets and a frightened expression.
"I don't know what I'm doing."
It had been fourteen hours since Arthur had admitted that very same thing to him when Gwen had been carried to a separate chamber. Merlin shrugged and gestured toward the bed where Morgana was tenderly stroking Gwen's forehead, brushing her hair back as they talked in quiet tones.
Arthur's mouth twisted and turned, finally letting loose the smile Merlin knew must have been hiding since he'd received the news.
"May I see him? Please?" Gwen held out her arms sluggishly, struggling to sit up. Morgana slipped her arms around the other woman's shoulders to help. "I haven't... I just want to see him."
Arthur surged into action, cradling the infant close to his chest, awkward and unsure while moving closer to Gwen's bedside. Merlin thought he could see Arthur cataloging every inch of the newborn's pinched face even as he settled on the soft mattress, pressing in close to Gwen's side.
They'd be all right, he decided, hanging back by the door. Even if Arthur looked paler than ever before and Gwen seemed ready to pass out from exhaustion, Merlin knew they'd be all right. Morgana stood, leaving Arthur to support Gwen and joined Merlin at his side.
"Do you think we should tell Arthur he's holding that poor child wrong?" she asked with ill-concealed happiness.
Merlin's nose wrinkled in amusement. "No. He might actually drop him."
Morgana merely laughed.