Swimming with the Sidhe - Chapter 7
Title: Swimming with the Sidhe
Author: gwylliondream
Genre: Canon era
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 53,589
Author's notes: Swimming with the Sidhe was written for paperlegends and as a kinkme_merlin fill for this prompt.
Disclaimer: All Arthurian characters are the property of BBC/Shine and their creators. The Calming Manatee and most of its words belong to HT (the Human Typist) of the Calming Manatee meme.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime! Thanks so much for reading!
History would remember Arthur’s defeat of the Saxons at Camlann as his greatest victory. In reality, it wasn’t much of a ground battle for Arthur. He spent much of the time giving commands to his men from high on the back of the dragon, Aithusa. Beside him, Merlin cast fury from his fingertips upon the enemy.
The Sidhe had arrived undetected to the forest around the Saxon camp. They scattered to the trees, each tiny fairy landing as a gentle breeze upon the leaves, the disturbance insufficient enough to raise the Saxon’s alarm. Merlin guided Aithusa to a nearby ridge where he and Arthur hoped to determine whether the Saxons were on the move for Camelot yet. Merlin wasn’t surprised when they were approached by a scouting party wearing the colours of Caerleon.
“I knew Annis had faith in me,” Merlin said, reaching back to lay a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.
“Hail, King Arthur,” a swordsman cried. “It’s true, as our queen told us it would be-he is returned. I can hardly believe my eyes.”
Arthur swung down from Aithusa’s back and greeted the men as they gathered around the dragon with Merlin still atop his scaly hide.
“I appreciate each and every one of you,” Arthur began. “And I send my warmest regards to your queen. Today, we fight with honour to prevent the Saxon’s attack on the innocent kingdom of Camelot. When we are successful, we will all share in the glory of justice done.”
Merlin beamed at Arthur as he spoke, the men nodding and raising their weapons in agreement with his words. A lump formed in Merlin’s throat when he saw the willingness of the Caerleon army to follow Arthur into battle, risking their lives for this man and the kingdom of peace he promised to deliver.
As quickly as he could, Arthur gathered information from Annis’s men. He learned that armies from Camelot, Nemeth, and Gawant had planned to intercept Cerdic before the Saxons could launch their attack. Rodor had men positioned to the west where they could disarm riders who ventured afield if the Saxons planned to attack Camelot’s western flank. Camelot’s army, led by Leon, Arthur’s first knight, would meet the Saxons head on, supported by Gawant. They had planned to ride from Camelot at dawn and would stop the Saxons where they were met. Godwyn had apparently recognized the value of an alliance with Arthur while he lived, and decided to add his weight to Camelot’s side.
“Godwyn,” Arthur said with surprise when he climbed onto Aithusa’s back. “Looks like he’ll be joining us.”
Merlin chewed his lip and calculated the strength of Camelot’s allies against the decimated Saxons. The battle would likely be won even if the Sarrum of Amata and Alined joined Cerdic in the fray. “Given a choice, most people will choose peace over war,” Merlin said. “They believe in the peace you’ll bring. They believe in you.”
“And you,” Arthur said, leaning forward to whisper in Merlin’s ear.
“Let’s get on with it,” Merlin said, wanting nothing more than for the battle to be over so he could have this man, this king, to himself.
“For the love of Camelot!” Arthur cried.
“Aithusa, áwegflíeh,” Merlin urged the dragon into the air.
On, they soared toward Camelot, finding Leon and the knights as they rode toward the Saxon camp. Aithusa circled low with Merlin and Arthur secure on his back and Arthur’s men whooped in joy when they recognized their king, well and truly alive again. They raised their swords in salute as Aithusa hovered over them on the forest pathway. Merlin was pleased to see that the men had disregarded the fact that magic was still illegal in Camelot. They seemed to greet Arthur’s manservant and Aithusa with the same enthusiasm as they had their king. With the fire-breathing dragon leading the way, Arthur’s men charged the Saxon’s camp, catching them off-guard before they had departed for their assault on Camelot.
The battle began with a blast of dragon fire as Aithusa got Cerdic’s attention, the way only a dragon could.
“Surrender now, Cerdic,” Arthur called from the hovering dragon’s back, “Let the citizens of Camelot live in peace.”
Merlin could tell, even from their height above the Saxon camp, that Cerdic was confounded by Arthur’s appearance when he had been certainly slain by Mordred’s sword. The Saxon king must have believed Arthur to be an apparition because he stamped out the fire with his charred boots and ordered his men to attack.
The clash of sword to shield rang through the countryside as the men fought. The Sidhe went to work under Adaneth’s leadership. The tiny fairies flew into the Saxon’s eyes and blinded them with their sharpened claws, causing the Saxons to lose their advantage in a parry when they tried to swat the winged creatures away.
The Sidhe’s air assault was enhanced by Aithusa’s breath of flames that he used with Merlin’s guidance. Circling above the men, Merlin watched for trouble and defended Arthur’s knights with the unleashing of his own fiery magic against the Saxons. Aithusa swooped low to allow Arthur to communicate with his men on the ground when it was necessary, his great white wings beating in the morning air. Camelot’s army, along with the Sidhe, were joined by forces from Caerleon, Nemeth, and Gawant. All told, Arthur and his allies had the Saxons outnumbered ten to one.
The battle ended quickly with a Saxon retreat after Cerdic was struck down by Leon. Without a leader, those who would have divided Camelot’s wealth among themselves and their allies in Arthur’s absence took to the hills, leaving their battered camp and most of their weapons behind.
Merlin was glad to see that most of Camelot’s army were spared from injury in the brief battle. What wounds needed mending could be healed by Gaius and himself when they returned to Camelot. He shifted his position on Aithusa’s back, turning to congratulate Arthur on the victory when he felt the sharp pang of pain pierce the flesh of his thigh. No one had seen the stray Saxon bolt from a crossbow that had flown through the air to strike him when their battle was all but lost. Merlin didn’t have time to contemplate the final act of Saxon aggression. He instinctively reached to protect the injury from further harm, keeping the lifeblood from gushing out over the empty field of battle. In doing so, he lost his balance upon Aithusa’s back. As he slid over the edge, the dragon’s scales slippery under the worn soles of his boots, Arthur caught his hand.
Merlin dangled there for a fraction of time, suspended over the field of death and destruction.
“Hold tight,” Arthur said, his eyes wild.
“I will,” Merlin said, not daring to adjust for a better grip of Arthur’s leather glove.
“Get down, Aithusa! Down!” Arthur demanded, not knowing how to communicate in Merlin’s dragon speech.
Merlin thought that if he could just ignore the pain in his thigh, he’d be able to summon his magic. His eyes flashed gold, but the slip of sweaty sorcerer fingers against the fine leather of a king’s glove happened too quickly. The next thing Merlin remembered was the sudden jolt of landing on the ground, his body bouncing once with the impact, and Arthur’s voice, screaming, “No!”… and then nothing, for a long, long while.
To Merlin, it seemed like he had been asleep on a rainy morning when he had no chores to do for the king. No polishing of armour, no mucking out the stables, no shining up the brass, he could just lie there in the blissful warmth of his tiny bed in the alcove beside Gaius’s workshop. Through the haze of his dreams, he remembered Arthur commanding Aithusa to return to Camelot. “Your master needs you to carry him home, Aithusa,” Arthur said solemnly, his voice drifting though Merlin’s memory like a tale his mother would have read to him from a storybook.
Percival and Leon had reverently loaded Merlin’s limp body onto Aithusa’s back while Arthur held him secure in his arms. Then, there was the sound of beating dragon wings and a chilly breeze that rushed past Merlin’s ears.
“We’ll be home soon, love,” Merlin remembered Arthur’s whispered promise after the men mounted their horses.
Despite his state of sleep, he still felt sorry that Arthur missed his opportunity to celebrate his victory. It was this sadness that pulled him toward awakening, although he couldn’t yet manage to speak a word.
He never saw the worry in Gaius’s eyes when he watched his apprentice laid on the cot in his workshop. He never felt the press of Gwen’s fingers as she staunched the flow of blood with a strip of fabric she had torn from the sleeve of her own dress. He never heard Arthur’s protests when his men tried to lure him away so he could address the court about his return to life.
But by noon, when Arthur returned to Gaius’s workshop from meeting with his council, Merlin could discern the voices of those who surrounded him. Their words hummed together, sometimes meaninglessly, like the rumble of distant thunder that faded when the sky cleared.
“Just a bump on the head,” Gaius said, assuring Arthur that Merlin would recover quickly.
Although Merlin’s eyes had not yet opened, he imagined Gaius raising an eyebrow when Arthur insisted that the wound to Merlin’s thigh was more dangerous than the jolt of his body hitting the ground.
“He’s lost so much blood,” Arthur said.
“Merlin has withstood far worse than this, Sire,” Gaius said with authority. “And usually it’s been at your expense, if I may dare say. The bolt barely pierced his thigh before it was deflected. As long as the area is kept clean and shows no sign of infection, Merlin should make a complete recovery.”
“I’m so grateful you were here to help him when we returned,” Arthur said warmly.
“It was the least I could do after all he’s been through,” Gwen said, and Merlin could envision Arthur clasping her hand for comfort while they both sat at his side.
“I wish he would awaken,” Arthur complained. “Why is he still sleeping?”
“That’s to be expected,” Gaius said. “He fell a great distance. And from what I understand, if you hadn’t gotten Aithusa to descend when you did, he would have fallen from an even greater height and sustained worse injuries. As it is now, he’s only had the wind knocked out of him. I can find no evidence of broken bones. He just needs to rest.”
“Well, I plan to stay here until he wakes,” Arthur said, resolutely.
“Very well then,” Gaius said, and there was a shuffle of fabric where Merlin imagined him donning his cloak. “As long as you both are here, you may as well make yourselves useful by keeping watch over Merlin. I must deliver these medicines to the others who were injured in battle. I won’t be gone long.”
“Thank you, Gaius. I’ll come find you if there’s any change in his condition,” Gwen said.
The door closed and the air in the room grew heavy with words unsaid.
While Merlin’s body slept in silence, his mind wandered the endless roads of that would bring him back to Arthur. The muffled trickling of a stream at his side reminded him of the manatee whose words guided him now. He followed the path along the shore and stepped into the water as a damp cloth was pressed to his forehead by an unseen hand.
“I can do that,” Arthur said, his hand taking the cloth from Gwen and dipping it in the basin of cool water.
“Very well, but I need to do something,” Gwen said. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. This is completely my fault. If I hadn’t put him in the dungeon, we could have resolved things without it coming to this. And the bump on his head? That was my guard’s doing at my command! I’m truly mortified by my behaviour.”
“He’ll understand that you only meant well,” Arthur said with a shake of his head. “It’s his nature to believe the best in everyone. In fact, he told me that he hopes that you will be his friend again someday.”
“That makes my heart hurt even worse,” Gwen said with a sob. “How could I have treated him as I did? Merlin… so sweet and guileless. I only hope that he can forgive me.”
Merlin felt Gwen take his hand. The warmth of her palm against his cool skin soothed him. The horizon opened for Merlin as the water lapped against his thighs, the stream’s bottom shifted soft beneath his feet.
“I’m sorry that ruling the kingdom was more of a challenge than anyone could have anticipated,” Arthur said. “But you did the best you could. No one can question that.”
“I don’t know how you do it,” Gwen said, her hand gently squeezing Merlin’s. “You maintain everyone’s respect, but are both fair and just at the same time.”
“It’s taken a lifetime of practice,” Arthur said. “More than one lifetime, now. It’s not easy, but with the advice of good counsel it becomes easier.”
Merlin sensed his caregivers’ movement as Arthur clasped Gwen’s shoulder in appreciation.
“What’s taken a lifetime, I’ve ruined in a week,” Gwen lamented.
“That’s nonsense, Gwen,” Arthur said. “Don’t blame yourself. You were only enforcing the laws that had been made for the good of the kingdom. Listen to me-you did your best under very trying circumstances. There’s no shame in that.”
“There were so many things to do, so many partnerships to maintain-so much war,” Gwen said thoughtfully.
“I’m sure Leon’s advice was useful to you,” Arthur said. “He’s a good man.”
“He was a star in all of this, a guiding star,” Gwen said. “Of course I grieved over your death-please don’t be mistaken. Despite our differences, there truly will never be another man like you, another ruler as noble and proud. I’m only sorry that I couldn’t do justice to your legacy.”
“I’m glad to hear that you missed me,” Arthur said with a laugh.
“I did miss you,” Gwen said, her hand leaving Merlin’s.
“You look well,” Arthur said. “Considering all you’ve endured in my absence.”
“It wasn’t all bad,” Gwen said.
“Leon saw to that,” Arthur said.
“Arthur…” Gwen said.
In his slumber, Merlin strode forward, wading deeper. He paused and dipped his shoulders beneath the water. His arms lengthened as he swam each stroke to follow the flow of the stream.
“I’d never suggest it, if I thought it would put Camelot in danger,” Gwen began. “But now we’ve both seen the havoc your death would create, not only for Camelot, but for all of Albion… it gives me a good reason to reconsider my future… our future.”
“Are you willing to abdicate your throne to me, my queen?” Arthur asked, and Merlin could almost see the glint in Arthur’ eye, and hear the relief in his voice.
“If you want to look at it that way,” Gwen said, her laughter echoing in Gaius’s musty workshop as it had done when she was still a girl.
When Merlin’s head surfaced above the water, he heard Gwen’s laughter and remembered how she had welcomed him when he first arrived in Camelot. She had trusted him in friendship and kissed him with affection. They were soon inseparable in their goal to mould Arthur into the great king he was destined to become. Merlin swam toward her voice, hoping he would be joined in friendship with her again.
“Gwen…” Arthur’s voice was serious. “You have long needed more than I can ever give you.”
“You understood what I was proposing, then. You have been so accommodating, to allow me time with Leon,” Gwen said after a while, and Merlin could see her furrowed brow in his sleep. “But with your death, I know now what’s been missing, and I think perhaps you know what has been missing from your life as well.”
Merlin felt Arthur’s fingers as they brushed back the damp hair from his forehead, wet with the moisture from Gaius’s cloth.
“You always were the wisest of my advisors,” Arthur said. “You see me, as no other can.”
“I’ve felt the kind of love we both can have, but I’ll only feel it again when I am free to do so without the fear of hurting you,” Gwen said.
“You know that you can’t hurt me,” Arthur said, his fingers stilling.
“I do know,” Gwen said. “It’s Merlin you want. It always has been. I see the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. I’d be a fool to stand between you and him. And you’d be a fool to spend another day of your life resisting him.”
Arthur’s fingers trailed over Merlin’s face, slid down his arm, and intertwined with Merlin’s fingers.
“But I married you,” Arthur said. “I do love you.”
“Arthur, this is about our happiness-mine, and yours both. You know that our marriage is in name only. Besides, our marriage ended with your death. The people will understand that, even if they question it at first,” Gwen said.
“Guinevere,” Arthur said, and Merlin felt Arthur break contact with him while he touched Gwen’s arm. It was a more intimate touch than Merlin had ever imagined them sharing in their marriage. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to leave you, if this isn’t what you want, no matter that it will free me to love Merlin. You must tell me.”
“Arthur, it would be like asking the sun not to rise, the stars not to shine, to let this marriage keep us both from the one who makes us whole, the one who makes us feel alive, the one who makes us live. It’s time to end this, and start anew,” Gwen said.
Merlin launched himself forward, keeping pace with the tide, in pursuit of the freedom that eluded him. He raised his head above the water and sighted his goal lurking just out of reach in the deep water of the ocean that lay ahead.
“You are free,” Arthur said.
“As are you,” Gwen replied. And Merlin heard the touch of their lips, then the rustle of fabric as Gwen stood to leave.
“I’ll expect you in the council chamber tomorrow after breakfast when we welcome Adaneth and the Sidhe to their place at the Round Table,” Arthur said.
“I’ll be there,” Gwen said, walking toward the door. “And with your permission, I’d like to move my belongings out of your chambers as soon as possible. Leon’s quarters are not extravagant, but we will make do.”
“Of course,” Arthur said, and then he suddenly added, “but there’s no need for you to live with Leon beside the stables. My father’s old chambers have been vacant for some time now. There would be plenty of room for both of you. I wish you might consider moving there-but only if it would suit you.”
Gwen’s footsteps quickly crossed the stone floor back to Arthur. “You are as generous and noble as I always believed you were.” And then she kissed him again before retreating.
“Gwen?” Arthur said, stopping her.
“Yes?” she replied, raising the latch of the door.
“About Merlin… and me… how did you know?” Arthur asked.
“Really, Arthur…” Gwen began, and Merlin could hear the smile in her voice. “Poetry? Did you ever expect anyone to believe that?”
And then the door closed and Merlin was alone with Arthur again.
“Come now,” Arthur whispered, wringing out the cloth in basin and pressing it to Merlin’s brow. “Did you hear any of what Gwen and I said?”
Merlin focussed on a distant shadow on the horizon, and swam harder to reach it. The pain surged in his thigh as he kicked through the waves.
“Gwen knows that I love you,” Arthur said. “She says we’re free to be together. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You just need to wake up.”
Arthur dabbed the cloth across Merlin’s face, his fingers brushing against his lips. Merlin’s tongue darted out seeking the cloth’s moisture.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked in disbelief. “You’re thirsty… you need water.” Arthur dropped the cloth and poured water from a pitcher into a goblet that Gaius had left at Merlin’s bedside.
Merlin reached for Arthur before he could vanish into the swirling sea.
“Arthur?” Merlin tried to speak, opening his eyes and pulling Arthur’s hand to him.
“Easy, Merlin,” Arthur said when Merlin’s hands frantically grabbed at the goblet of water he held out him.
“What happened?” Merlin asked. As much as it pained him to tear his eyes away from Arthur, he steadied the cup as it met his lips, his eyes drifting shut as he drank his fill.
“What happened,” Arthur said. “I’ve been worried to death about you.”
Merlin snorted. He watched Arthur go to the door where he instructed a messenger to find Gaius. Then he was back at Merlin’s side, stroking his hair and refilling the goblet with fresh water for Merlin to drink.
“I thought I was dreaming,” Merlin said. “Was Gwen here? I dreamed she wasn’t angry with me anymore.”
“You didn’t dream that,” Arthur said taking the empty goblet from Merlin. “She was here. You must have heard parts of our conversation because you’re right-she’s no longer angry with you.”
“I’m so glad,” Merlin said. “And you’re not angry with me? I held onto your hand as long as I could. And Aithusa-”
“I could never be angry with you,” Arthur said, taking Merlin’s hand and pressing kisses to the inside of Merlin’s wrist, the bruises long since faded. “And Aithusa did fine. He’s out by the stables being fed and watered. I think his throat must get awfully dry when he spews out those flames.”
When Gaius returned, he examined Merlin from head to toe and could find nothing wrong with him besides the wound that tore the flesh of his thigh.
“And, that it’s time you had a bath,” Gaius said. “You smell like you’ve been sleeping by the shore at low tide.”
“That’s surprisingly accurate,” Arthur said. “Come along, I’ll have a bath drawn for you in my chambers.”
“Let me get some clothes from my room,” Merlin said, limping toward the alcove. “And I want to tell you about Morforwyn and how he led me back to you. I followed the water like he told me I should. Wait here for me and I’ll tell you more about it.”
Arthur folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe.
Gaius raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to remind him that he can’t tell you what to do?” Gaius asked.
Arthur drummed his fingers against his arm and looked at the ceiling. “No, we’ve moved beyond that,” he replied.
Merlin grinned when he heard Arthur’s words. He was tempted to elaborate on them for Gaius. Instead he picked through the clothes that were strewn on the floor of his alcove. He gave his tunic a sniff and decided that he could leave Gaius to sort out the rest of what had happened between Arthur and him. The idea of a hot bath in Arthur’s chambers sounded wonderful. And spending time alone with Arthur sounded even better.
“But try to avoid getting your bandaging wet,” Gaius called to him as he limped out the door, Arthur supporting him with an arm wrapped around his shoulders.
“I can’t make any promises,” Merlin said. “At least it doesn’t feel too bad right now.”
By the time he got to the bottom of the stairs that led to Arthur’s chamber, he had second thoughts. His thigh ached and he couldn’t wait to take the pain remedy that Gaius had pressed into Arthur’s hand.
“You should be taking it easy,” Arthur said, taking more of his weight. “I could carry you up?”
“I’m not a girl, Arthur,” Merlin said with disdain. “I can’t very well have you carry me upstairs like you’ve saved a damsel in distress.”
Arthur just shook his head and laughed. Merlin had never seen him so happy, his eyes so bright, his smile so brilliant. Gathering his strength, Merlin limped up the steps with Arthur behind him, ready to save him from breaking his neck if he tumbled down the stairway.
Inside Arthur’s chambers, the bath had already been filled and the fire had been stoked against the autumn chill. Merlin dipped a finger into the bath water and sulked at the lukewarm temperature.
“I figured we’d save time by just using my bath water from this morning,” Arthur said, barring the door behind him. “That way we can have some privacy without servants bustling in with their buckets of hot water.”
“I can reheat it, if that’s what you mean,” Merlin said, remembering all the times he had kept Arthur’s bath water the perfect temperature.
Arthur leaned over and rested his palms on the edge of the tub. “At least I wasn’t very dirty after spending all that time sloshing around in the lake with the Sidhe,” Arthur said.
Merlin turned his head and caught Arthur’s eyes. “Do you want to watch?” he asked.
Arthur straightened and took Merlin into his arms, his eyes flickering over Merlin’s face.
“I’d like that. I remember last night when you warmed our bedroll,” Arthur said. “I think I finally understood that your magic is so much more than evil or good. It’s a part of you-a part of the very fabric of who you are. I could feel it move through you when we touched. I hope you know that I could never rail against magic again.”
“Very well, then,” Merlin said, and after pausing to appreciate the look of adoration on Arthur’s face, his eyes flashed gold.
Steam rose from the water in the tub and the air of Arthur’s chambers was filled with fragrant herbs.
Arthur tilted forward and left a soft kiss on Merlin’s lips.
“I’ll leave you to your bath, then,” Arthur said. “I’ll return soon.”
Merlin watched Arthur unbolt the door, closing it gently behind him. He shucked out of his jacket and sat in a chair to remove his boots, not wanting to add stress to the bandaged wound on his thigh. As he pulled his tunic over his head, he realized that he had never been naked in Arthur’s chambers before. He couldn’t really decide whether he should be feeling shy or not. Of course Arthur had seen him naked countless times before as they bathed while on patrol or jumped into a lake while hunting on a hot summer day, but this was a little different.
He slid his breeches and smallclothes off in one motion, hoping to minimize the pain from his injury. Stepping inside the tub, he soon realized that the wound was close enough to his knee that if he sat with his knee bent just so, he could keep the bandage dry.
He filled the dipper and poured the hot water over his hair and worked out the tangles with his fingers. On the low cupboard beside the tub, he found a cake of Arthur’s favourite soap and used it to scrub the dirt from his hair, leaving it to steep in a white lather.
After scrubbing his skin, he sat back and let the water wash over him. The heat soaked into his muscles and soothed the tender aches he suffered from his fall from Aithusa’s back.
He closed his eyes and let his mind turn over the events of the past days-his realization that he was in love with Arthur, the battle with the Saxons, Arthur’s death and rebirth, being thrown into the dungeons, Kilgharrah’s death, Aithusa returning like a needy child, disagreements with Gwen and Gaius, the acceptance of the Sidhe and the magic that would likely follow-all his decisions and concerns had been eased and calmed by the appearance of the manatee at the lake. Morforwyn had always assured Merlin that he was doing the right thing, even if he wasn’t always successful. Even when Merlin’s plan to raise Arthur from the dead with the horn of Cathbhadh hadn’t worked, Morforwyn had been supportive and had helped him find another way.
He wondered where the manatee was now. Merlin hoped that Morforwyn had found his way toward the freedom Merlin made available to him, if that was what he truly desired. It still seemed strange to Merlin when he considered the differences between what he desired and what he only thought he desired when the great dragon had offered his advice. Merlin supposed the difference was that now his love for Arthur was free to grow without concern for destiny and the great kingdom Arthur might lead. All they had to worry about now was each other and the love that had blossomed between them-no thanks to Merlin’s secret-keeping.
Merlin opened his eyes. The last time he and Arthur were in his chambers together, he was telling Arthur that he couldn’t join him as he prepared for war against Morgana and the Saxons. Arthur had been so disappointed in him. He should have told him about his magic right then, but what good would it have done if he couldn’t use it to help Arthur? He shook his head, glad that the days of keeping his magic a secret were over.
The soft rap of knuckles sounded on the door.
Merlin’s head snapped up and he was relieved to see Arthur returning to him with a tray of food and a jug of watered wine.
“It’s only me,” Arthur said, setting the tray on the table and bolting the door behind him. “I’ve brought food-you must be starving.”
Merlin settled back into the bath and abandoned the idea of being self-conscious about his nakedness. This was Arthur, the same Arthur he had known for years, and the same Arthur he had loved for as long as he could remember, even if he didn’t always realize it at the time. “I am,” Merlin said. “It seems like days since we ate those pear tarts.”
”We?” Arthur asked, carrying the tray to Merlin. “As I recall, you enjoyed them all for yourself.”
“Sorry,” Merlin said with a smile. He started to get out of the tub, but Arthur stopped him by pulling a chair close to where he soaked.
“Your hair,” Arthur said. “It’s as white as that old man you disguised yourself as.”
“Oh. Did you never recognize me?” Merlin asked. He took a goblet of wine from the tray and sipped some of the liquid down, hoping it would ease some of his pain without the need for Gaius’s remedy that might make him sleep again.
Arthur sat beside him and leaned in close. “I always thought that there was something familiar about him,” he said taking a fingerful of suds from Merlin’s hair. “I just couldn’t put my finger on it.” Merlin went cross-eyed as Arthur deposited the suds from his finger onto his nose.
Then, Merlin watched as Arthur lifted the dipper. He closed his eyes and let Arthur drip the water through his hair, working out the soap with gentle touches of his fingers. Merlin felt truly cherished by the attention Arthur lavished on him. Arthur refilled the dipper and rinsed Merlin’s hair again, not stopping until Merlin was certain that his hair was black and shiny as always.
When Arthur seemed satisfied, Merlin reached for the cupboard beside the tub where he grabbed a sheet of linen.
“You looked like you were deep in thought when I came in,” Arthur said, popping a grape into his mouth before offering one to Merlin. “What were you thinking about?”
Merlin dried his face on the linen and let out a long breath. He looked around the room, the impending sunset lighting the stone walls with a crimson glow. “I was remembering how sorry I was that I had to leave you the last time we were in this room together. I had lost my magic and couldn’t go with you to Camlann.”
“You mentioned that Morgana did that to you,” Arthur said grimly. “I’m so sorry.”
Merlin carefully held onto the edge of the tub and stood. He felt Arthur’s eyes on him as he wrapped himself in the cloth. The droplets of water trickled down his chest.
“Will you stay now?” Arthur asked hopefully, but he glanced away, unsure. Merlin didn’t let it bother him. He had put up with the king’s stunted emotions for most of his adult life. He had no plans to let them subdue the joy in his heart now. There was nothing that could stop him, except maybe one thing.
“Arthur,” Merlin said, brushing the golden hair from his brow and letting his fingers slide down his face until they rested under his chin. He tilted Arthur’s face toward him to force Arthur to meet his gaze. “You’d have to send me to the dungeons in cold iron to make me leave you tonight.”
That earned him a small grin from Arthur, but Merlin wasn’t going to let him stop there. Merlin stepped into Arthur’s embrace, not caring that the linen fell to the floor. The feel of his hot damp skin on Arthur’s dry tunic and breeches made Merlin let out a moan of pleasure. It had been years since he had even dreamed of anyone touching his cock, besides himself. The soft weave of Arthur’s breeches against his skin was too much to keep quiet about and he pressed his hips forward so he could feel it again while Arthur’s hands roamed his naked back.
Merlin felt Arthur’s teeth skim across his sensitive ear lobe. It sent a tingle through Merlin that went straight to his cock, which hardened further as Arthur nipped and licked, his breath warm in Merlin’s ear.
“Listen to you,” Arthur whispered, his lips smiling against Merlin’s neck. “Gaius always said, one whiff of a barmaid’s apron and you’d be singing like a sailor.”
“Oh, come now, I’ve only had one sip of wine, and you haven’t heard me sing yet,” Merlin laughed.
“I’m hoping I’ll get to,” Arthur said with a smile.
Emboldened, Merlin’s fingers went to the laces of Arthur’s tunic and he began to loosen their knot. For all his eagerness, Arthur watched him fumble to get the laces undone. Eventually, Merlin gave up on the knot and magicked the knot undone with a flash of gold in his eyes. He hoped that Arthur wouldn’t think it was too forward of him, using magic to help get him naked.
Merlin slipped his hands beneath the hem of Arthur’s tunic, the white one that had always been Merlin’s favourite. Arthur’s muscles contracted at the touch of Merlin’s fingertips as Merlin stripped it from him, letting it land on the floor. Arthur stood before Merlin now as Merlin had seen him dozens of times, with his flat belly and his taut chest with its golden skin and smattering of light hair. Only now, the skin was Merlin’s to touch, the perfect pink nipples were Merlin’s to lick and to suck with a passion that he didn’t know he possessed a week ago.
It was hard to think about any of the events of the past week when Arthur framed Merlin’s face in his hands and kissed him thoroughly. Merlin’s mouth opened under Arthur’s and he welcomed the intrusion of Arthur’s tongue as he slid it against his own, exploring and tasting. When they broke apart for air, Arthur stepped back to kick off his boots, ever mindful of the damp bandaging on Merlin’s thigh that they were trying to keep dry.
“Maybe we should take the bandage off,” Merlin suggested, his half-hard cock vying for more attention than the injury.
“If you think that’s a good idea,” Arthur said. “You’re the physician.”
Arthur took Merlin’s hand and led him to his bed. “Sit here,” Arthur said. “Gaius will have your head if your wound starts bleeding again.”
Arthur slid his hands down Merlin’s arms and knelt on the floor in front of him. He untied the bandaged with practiced hands that had tended his mens’ injuries in battle and on the practice field for more years than Merlin cared to think about.
“That doesn’t look so bad,” Merlin said when Arthur pulled the bandage away. He was relieved to see that the injury had already begun to heal without any sign of infection.
“It’s bad enough for me to think that you have ever suffered any injury in the defence of Camelot,” Arthur said, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s knee.
Merlin slid his fingers into Arthur’s golden hair. “But that’s what I do best,” he said. “I defend you.”
Arthur stood and stroked Merlin’s shoulders. He leaned and touched his forehead to Merlin’s. “Still, I think you’d better lie down, to take the strain off it,” Arthur said.
“As an assistant to Camelot’s physician, I think you’re right,” Merlin said.
He let Arthur guide him down into the bedding and he settled amongst the comfortable pillows and blankets that he arranged himself a thousand times. But today, he smiled when he felt the mattress dip beside him and the press of Arthur’s body, warm and naked against his back.
“I’m glad your wound looks like it’s healing,” Arthur said, slipping an arm around Merlin’s waist. “If anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I would do.”
“I’ll be fine,” Merlin said, turning his head to find Arthur’s lips for a kiss. “It hurts, but there’s no need to worry.”
Arthur left a trail of kisses across Merlin’s cheek and down his jaw. “When you were asleep today, and you wouldn’t awaken… it terrified me,” Arthur said.
Merlin rolled onto his back and reached up to stroke Arthur’s hair. “I may have lost you once, but you won’t lose me,” Merlin said.
“You’re everything to me. It’s always been you, even Gwen knew it,” Arthur said. “If I ever lost you…”
Merlin could tell Arthur was struggling for words, so he did the best thing he could think of and kissed him again.
Arthur’s skin felt warm against Merlin’s, even though Merlin had just come out of the hot bath. He stretched his legs against Arthur’s gently, determined not to disturb his healing thigh.
“We’ll have to move slowly,” Arthur said, stilling Merlin with a hand on his bare hip.
“I am moving slowly,” Merlin said, lazily kissing Arthur again.
With a flash of his magic, Merlin ignited the wicks of the candles that littered the table, the nightstand and the shelf beside the bed. Arthur propped himself up on one elbow to look at Merlin and Merlin smiled when Arthur looked impressed.
“How could I never have known?” Arthur asked, running his hand from Merlin’s hip to his chest.
“I was very good at keeping it a secret,” Merlin whispered. The sensation of Arthur’s fingers on his naked body made Merlin want to drag Arthur on top of him, to rut against him until he came.
“I want to touch you,” Arthur said.
Merlin had no complaint. He dragged Arthur’s hand down his chest and keened loudly when Arthur’s fingers wrapped around his hard cock. He felt Arthur’s smile against his neck and it made him flush with warmth when Arthur tugged at him awkwardly, his left hand working the slick out of him while Merlin bucked into his hand.
“What?” Arthur asked, playfully nipping at Merlin’s earlobe.
“It feels so strange,” Merlin said, before a short huff of laughter escaped his chest.
Arthur’s hand stilled and he stopped breathing in Merlin’s ear.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked, “Do you mean to tell me that in all these years no one has ever taken you?”
The candles stuttered in the silence.
Merlin reached down to grasp Arthur’s hand where it was touching him. “What I lack in experience, I make up for in enthusiasm,” Merlin said hopefully, pulling Arthur’s head back to his shoulder with his other hand.
“You’re sure you want this?” Arthur asked softly, moving his hand in tandem with Merlin’s.
Merlin closed his eyes, not wanting to reveal any uncertainty, in case it was there. In truth, he could think of no better way to surrender his virtue.
“Arthur, please...” Merlin whined, squeezing his hand tighter and urging Arthur to move faster.
“Show me, Merlin,” Arthur whispered encouragingly into Merlin's ear. “Show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone in your bed.”
Merlin turned his head to capture Arthur's lips with his own, but Arthur was gone. He had crawled down the bed to occupy the space between Merlin’s legs.
“Tell me what you think about,” Arthur said, his breath hot against the paper-thin skin of Merlin’s balls.
“I think of you fucking me,” Merlin said, louder than he meant to.
Merlin spread his legs wider as Arthur flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin.
“You’re beautiful, Merlin,” Arthur whispered, gently pushing his shoulder under Merlin’s knee to lift his leg and protect his injury. “As beautiful as I always imagined you to be.”
Merlin felt like he was going to burst from the pleasure of it, Arthur’s voice, his hands, his tongue. He slung his forearm across his mouth to keep himself from crying out.
Arthur's fingers crept lower, petting the soft skin that had never been touched before. When he brushed his fingertips over Merlin’s hole, Merlin gasped.
“The oil,” Merlin whispered, squeezing his cock so he wouldn’t come too soon. “I read about it in one of Gaius’s books.”
Arthur shuffled across the bed and reached into the nightstand drawer for the oil that Merlin knew he used on himself from time to time.
“You’re sure?” Arthur whispered, more serious than Merlin had ever heard him speak before.
Merlin nodded, lost in the feeling of Arthur’s fingers, slow and certain as they worked him open. He felt like a fool for never understanding before how good it would feel to have Arthur ministering to his body’s every need. When he was gasping for breath and pushing back onto Arthur’s fingers, Arthur slid forward to press his thighs against Merlin’s. He paused and let his gaze roam over Merlin’s face.
“Please, Arthur,” Merlin said. “I’m going to be spent before we’ve started.”
When Arthur pushed his cock inside him, it was slow and only a tiny bit painful, but Merlin could take it. He had slain an evil priestess and brought a king back from death. He had commanded dragons and befriended a manatee. He had let his magic run free and had given himself to the man he loved. This was nothing, compared to all those things.
Arthur carefully gripped Merlin’s trembling thighs as they moved together, his eyes scanning Merlin’s face for any sign of discomfort. Merlin dug his fingernails into Arthur’s forearms and bit down on his bottom lip, wanting to prolong the feeling of being utterly adored for as long as he could, but it was hopeless.
With one final push, a shout of pleasure was ripped from Merlin’s lungs as his seed coated his chest, his magic flaring and spiraling from his fingertips with his bliss. The flicker of magicglow seemed to spur Arthur on. His hands tightened their grip and he let out a breathless whine that lasted for ages as he spent himself inside Merlin.
When Arthur opened his eyes again, he looked with wonder at the sparkles of magic that swirled through his bedchamber like feathers from a pillowfight.
After mopping up the mess and kissing Merlin again, Arthur flopped onto his back. “Why didn’t we do this a long time ago?” he asked, pulling Merlin close.
“I didn’t know you wanted to,” Merlin said, diving for Arthur’s lips again. He flinched in dismay when Arthur lightly cuffed the back of his head.
“Idiot,” Arthur said, his breath ghosting Merlin’s cheek.
“What was that for?” Merlin asked.
“You’ve kept your promise,” Arthur said, nuzzling into the space beneath Merlin’s ear.
“Which promise was that?” Merlin asked.
Arthur drew back and scanned Merlin’s face. In the quiet candlelight of the king’s bedchamber, Merlin thought Arthur’s eyes took on their own magical light.
“When I asked you to keep being you,” Arthur said, pressing another kiss to Merlin’s lips. “You’ve done it. You’re insolent, argumentative, outspoken, you commit treason at least once every day, and you spend far too much time in the tavern.”
“You love me,” Merlin protested, stroking Arthur’s calf with the toes of one foot.
“I do,” Arthur said. “What are we going to do about that?”
“We could do it again,” Merlin said.
And so they did.
In the days that followed, Arthur regained his kingdom and the respect of all the people of Albion. A feast was held to honour those who fell in the battle with the Saxons and Morgana. Of all the king’s knights, none was remembered with more honour or gratitude than the noble and brave Sir Gwaine.
As a favour to Merlin, Gwen arranged for Hunith to live at the court. In Hunith, Arthur finally had what he had always wanted and never thought he would have, a mother’s love.
With the help of the Sidhe, magic was reinstated in the realm and magic users lived and worked alongside those who remembered the time when magic was outlawed through the land. With Merlin at his side, Arthur brought Camelot into its golden age.
And somewhere in the depths of the open sea, a manatee smiled.
The end
Author: gwylliondream
Genre: Canon era
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 53,589
Author's notes: Swimming with the Sidhe was written for paperlegends and as a kinkme_merlin fill for this prompt.
Disclaimer: All Arthurian characters are the property of BBC/Shine and their creators. The Calming Manatee and most of its words belong to HT (the Human Typist) of the Calming Manatee meme.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime! Thanks so much for reading!
History would remember Arthur’s defeat of the Saxons at Camlann as his greatest victory. In reality, it wasn’t much of a ground battle for Arthur. He spent much of the time giving commands to his men from high on the back of the dragon, Aithusa. Beside him, Merlin cast fury from his fingertips upon the enemy.
The Sidhe had arrived undetected to the forest around the Saxon camp. They scattered to the trees, each tiny fairy landing as a gentle breeze upon the leaves, the disturbance insufficient enough to raise the Saxon’s alarm. Merlin guided Aithusa to a nearby ridge where he and Arthur hoped to determine whether the Saxons were on the move for Camelot yet. Merlin wasn’t surprised when they were approached by a scouting party wearing the colours of Caerleon.
“I knew Annis had faith in me,” Merlin said, reaching back to lay a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.
“Hail, King Arthur,” a swordsman cried. “It’s true, as our queen told us it would be-he is returned. I can hardly believe my eyes.”
Arthur swung down from Aithusa’s back and greeted the men as they gathered around the dragon with Merlin still atop his scaly hide.
“I appreciate each and every one of you,” Arthur began. “And I send my warmest regards to your queen. Today, we fight with honour to prevent the Saxon’s attack on the innocent kingdom of Camelot. When we are successful, we will all share in the glory of justice done.”
Merlin beamed at Arthur as he spoke, the men nodding and raising their weapons in agreement with his words. A lump formed in Merlin’s throat when he saw the willingness of the Caerleon army to follow Arthur into battle, risking their lives for this man and the kingdom of peace he promised to deliver.
As quickly as he could, Arthur gathered information from Annis’s men. He learned that armies from Camelot, Nemeth, and Gawant had planned to intercept Cerdic before the Saxons could launch their attack. Rodor had men positioned to the west where they could disarm riders who ventured afield if the Saxons planned to attack Camelot’s western flank. Camelot’s army, led by Leon, Arthur’s first knight, would meet the Saxons head on, supported by Gawant. They had planned to ride from Camelot at dawn and would stop the Saxons where they were met. Godwyn had apparently recognized the value of an alliance with Arthur while he lived, and decided to add his weight to Camelot’s side.
“Godwyn,” Arthur said with surprise when he climbed onto Aithusa’s back. “Looks like he’ll be joining us.”
Merlin chewed his lip and calculated the strength of Camelot’s allies against the decimated Saxons. The battle would likely be won even if the Sarrum of Amata and Alined joined Cerdic in the fray. “Given a choice, most people will choose peace over war,” Merlin said. “They believe in the peace you’ll bring. They believe in you.”
“And you,” Arthur said, leaning forward to whisper in Merlin’s ear.
“Let’s get on with it,” Merlin said, wanting nothing more than for the battle to be over so he could have this man, this king, to himself.
“For the love of Camelot!” Arthur cried.
“Aithusa, áwegflíeh,” Merlin urged the dragon into the air.
On, they soared toward Camelot, finding Leon and the knights as they rode toward the Saxon camp. Aithusa circled low with Merlin and Arthur secure on his back and Arthur’s men whooped in joy when they recognized their king, well and truly alive again. They raised their swords in salute as Aithusa hovered over them on the forest pathway. Merlin was pleased to see that the men had disregarded the fact that magic was still illegal in Camelot. They seemed to greet Arthur’s manservant and Aithusa with the same enthusiasm as they had their king. With the fire-breathing dragon leading the way, Arthur’s men charged the Saxon’s camp, catching them off-guard before they had departed for their assault on Camelot.
The battle began with a blast of dragon fire as Aithusa got Cerdic’s attention, the way only a dragon could.
“Surrender now, Cerdic,” Arthur called from the hovering dragon’s back, “Let the citizens of Camelot live in peace.”
Merlin could tell, even from their height above the Saxon camp, that Cerdic was confounded by Arthur’s appearance when he had been certainly slain by Mordred’s sword. The Saxon king must have believed Arthur to be an apparition because he stamped out the fire with his charred boots and ordered his men to attack.
The clash of sword to shield rang through the countryside as the men fought. The Sidhe went to work under Adaneth’s leadership. The tiny fairies flew into the Saxon’s eyes and blinded them with their sharpened claws, causing the Saxons to lose their advantage in a parry when they tried to swat the winged creatures away.
The Sidhe’s air assault was enhanced by Aithusa’s breath of flames that he used with Merlin’s guidance. Circling above the men, Merlin watched for trouble and defended Arthur’s knights with the unleashing of his own fiery magic against the Saxons. Aithusa swooped low to allow Arthur to communicate with his men on the ground when it was necessary, his great white wings beating in the morning air. Camelot’s army, along with the Sidhe, were joined by forces from Caerleon, Nemeth, and Gawant. All told, Arthur and his allies had the Saxons outnumbered ten to one.
The battle ended quickly with a Saxon retreat after Cerdic was struck down by Leon. Without a leader, those who would have divided Camelot’s wealth among themselves and their allies in Arthur’s absence took to the hills, leaving their battered camp and most of their weapons behind.
Merlin was glad to see that most of Camelot’s army were spared from injury in the brief battle. What wounds needed mending could be healed by Gaius and himself when they returned to Camelot. He shifted his position on Aithusa’s back, turning to congratulate Arthur on the victory when he felt the sharp pang of pain pierce the flesh of his thigh. No one had seen the stray Saxon bolt from a crossbow that had flown through the air to strike him when their battle was all but lost. Merlin didn’t have time to contemplate the final act of Saxon aggression. He instinctively reached to protect the injury from further harm, keeping the lifeblood from gushing out over the empty field of battle. In doing so, he lost his balance upon Aithusa’s back. As he slid over the edge, the dragon’s scales slippery under the worn soles of his boots, Arthur caught his hand.
Merlin dangled there for a fraction of time, suspended over the field of death and destruction.
“Hold tight,” Arthur said, his eyes wild.
“I will,” Merlin said, not daring to adjust for a better grip of Arthur’s leather glove.
“Get down, Aithusa! Down!” Arthur demanded, not knowing how to communicate in Merlin’s dragon speech.
Merlin thought that if he could just ignore the pain in his thigh, he’d be able to summon his magic. His eyes flashed gold, but the slip of sweaty sorcerer fingers against the fine leather of a king’s glove happened too quickly. The next thing Merlin remembered was the sudden jolt of landing on the ground, his body bouncing once with the impact, and Arthur’s voice, screaming, “No!”… and then nothing, for a long, long while.
To Merlin, it seemed like he had been asleep on a rainy morning when he had no chores to do for the king. No polishing of armour, no mucking out the stables, no shining up the brass, he could just lie there in the blissful warmth of his tiny bed in the alcove beside Gaius’s workshop. Through the haze of his dreams, he remembered Arthur commanding Aithusa to return to Camelot. “Your master needs you to carry him home, Aithusa,” Arthur said solemnly, his voice drifting though Merlin’s memory like a tale his mother would have read to him from a storybook.
Percival and Leon had reverently loaded Merlin’s limp body onto Aithusa’s back while Arthur held him secure in his arms. Then, there was the sound of beating dragon wings and a chilly breeze that rushed past Merlin’s ears.
“We’ll be home soon, love,” Merlin remembered Arthur’s whispered promise after the men mounted their horses.
Despite his state of sleep, he still felt sorry that Arthur missed his opportunity to celebrate his victory. It was this sadness that pulled him toward awakening, although he couldn’t yet manage to speak a word.
He never saw the worry in Gaius’s eyes when he watched his apprentice laid on the cot in his workshop. He never felt the press of Gwen’s fingers as she staunched the flow of blood with a strip of fabric she had torn from the sleeve of her own dress. He never heard Arthur’s protests when his men tried to lure him away so he could address the court about his return to life.
But by noon, when Arthur returned to Gaius’s workshop from meeting with his council, Merlin could discern the voices of those who surrounded him. Their words hummed together, sometimes meaninglessly, like the rumble of distant thunder that faded when the sky cleared.
“Just a bump on the head,” Gaius said, assuring Arthur that Merlin would recover quickly.
Although Merlin’s eyes had not yet opened, he imagined Gaius raising an eyebrow when Arthur insisted that the wound to Merlin’s thigh was more dangerous than the jolt of his body hitting the ground.
“He’s lost so much blood,” Arthur said.
“Merlin has withstood far worse than this, Sire,” Gaius said with authority. “And usually it’s been at your expense, if I may dare say. The bolt barely pierced his thigh before it was deflected. As long as the area is kept clean and shows no sign of infection, Merlin should make a complete recovery.”
“I’m so grateful you were here to help him when we returned,” Arthur said warmly.
“It was the least I could do after all he’s been through,” Gwen said, and Merlin could envision Arthur clasping her hand for comfort while they both sat at his side.
“I wish he would awaken,” Arthur complained. “Why is he still sleeping?”
“That’s to be expected,” Gaius said. “He fell a great distance. And from what I understand, if you hadn’t gotten Aithusa to descend when you did, he would have fallen from an even greater height and sustained worse injuries. As it is now, he’s only had the wind knocked out of him. I can find no evidence of broken bones. He just needs to rest.”
“Well, I plan to stay here until he wakes,” Arthur said, resolutely.
“Very well then,” Gaius said, and there was a shuffle of fabric where Merlin imagined him donning his cloak. “As long as you both are here, you may as well make yourselves useful by keeping watch over Merlin. I must deliver these medicines to the others who were injured in battle. I won’t be gone long.”
“Thank you, Gaius. I’ll come find you if there’s any change in his condition,” Gwen said.
The door closed and the air in the room grew heavy with words unsaid.
While Merlin’s body slept in silence, his mind wandered the endless roads of that would bring him back to Arthur. The muffled trickling of a stream at his side reminded him of the manatee whose words guided him now. He followed the path along the shore and stepped into the water as a damp cloth was pressed to his forehead by an unseen hand.
“I can do that,” Arthur said, his hand taking the cloth from Gwen and dipping it in the basin of cool water.
“Very well, but I need to do something,” Gwen said. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. This is completely my fault. If I hadn’t put him in the dungeon, we could have resolved things without it coming to this. And the bump on his head? That was my guard’s doing at my command! I’m truly mortified by my behaviour.”
“He’ll understand that you only meant well,” Arthur said with a shake of his head. “It’s his nature to believe the best in everyone. In fact, he told me that he hopes that you will be his friend again someday.”
“That makes my heart hurt even worse,” Gwen said with a sob. “How could I have treated him as I did? Merlin… so sweet and guileless. I only hope that he can forgive me.”
Merlin felt Gwen take his hand. The warmth of her palm against his cool skin soothed him. The horizon opened for Merlin as the water lapped against his thighs, the stream’s bottom shifted soft beneath his feet.
“I’m sorry that ruling the kingdom was more of a challenge than anyone could have anticipated,” Arthur said. “But you did the best you could. No one can question that.”
“I don’t know how you do it,” Gwen said, her hand gently squeezing Merlin’s. “You maintain everyone’s respect, but are both fair and just at the same time.”
“It’s taken a lifetime of practice,” Arthur said. “More than one lifetime, now. It’s not easy, but with the advice of good counsel it becomes easier.”
Merlin sensed his caregivers’ movement as Arthur clasped Gwen’s shoulder in appreciation.
“What’s taken a lifetime, I’ve ruined in a week,” Gwen lamented.
“That’s nonsense, Gwen,” Arthur said. “Don’t blame yourself. You were only enforcing the laws that had been made for the good of the kingdom. Listen to me-you did your best under very trying circumstances. There’s no shame in that.”
“There were so many things to do, so many partnerships to maintain-so much war,” Gwen said thoughtfully.
“I’m sure Leon’s advice was useful to you,” Arthur said. “He’s a good man.”
“He was a star in all of this, a guiding star,” Gwen said. “Of course I grieved over your death-please don’t be mistaken. Despite our differences, there truly will never be another man like you, another ruler as noble and proud. I’m only sorry that I couldn’t do justice to your legacy.”
“I’m glad to hear that you missed me,” Arthur said with a laugh.
“I did miss you,” Gwen said, her hand leaving Merlin’s.
“You look well,” Arthur said. “Considering all you’ve endured in my absence.”
“It wasn’t all bad,” Gwen said.
“Leon saw to that,” Arthur said.
“Arthur…” Gwen said.
In his slumber, Merlin strode forward, wading deeper. He paused and dipped his shoulders beneath the water. His arms lengthened as he swam each stroke to follow the flow of the stream.
“I’d never suggest it, if I thought it would put Camelot in danger,” Gwen began. “But now we’ve both seen the havoc your death would create, not only for Camelot, but for all of Albion… it gives me a good reason to reconsider my future… our future.”
“Are you willing to abdicate your throne to me, my queen?” Arthur asked, and Merlin could almost see the glint in Arthur’ eye, and hear the relief in his voice.
“If you want to look at it that way,” Gwen said, her laughter echoing in Gaius’s musty workshop as it had done when she was still a girl.
When Merlin’s head surfaced above the water, he heard Gwen’s laughter and remembered how she had welcomed him when he first arrived in Camelot. She had trusted him in friendship and kissed him with affection. They were soon inseparable in their goal to mould Arthur into the great king he was destined to become. Merlin swam toward her voice, hoping he would be joined in friendship with her again.
“Gwen…” Arthur’s voice was serious. “You have long needed more than I can ever give you.”
“You understood what I was proposing, then. You have been so accommodating, to allow me time with Leon,” Gwen said after a while, and Merlin could see her furrowed brow in his sleep. “But with your death, I know now what’s been missing, and I think perhaps you know what has been missing from your life as well.”
Merlin felt Arthur’s fingers as they brushed back the damp hair from his forehead, wet with the moisture from Gaius’s cloth.
“You always were the wisest of my advisors,” Arthur said. “You see me, as no other can.”
“I’ve felt the kind of love we both can have, but I’ll only feel it again when I am free to do so without the fear of hurting you,” Gwen said.
“You know that you can’t hurt me,” Arthur said, his fingers stilling.
“I do know,” Gwen said. “It’s Merlin you want. It always has been. I see the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. I’d be a fool to stand between you and him. And you’d be a fool to spend another day of your life resisting him.”
Arthur’s fingers trailed over Merlin’s face, slid down his arm, and intertwined with Merlin’s fingers.
“But I married you,” Arthur said. “I do love you.”
“Arthur, this is about our happiness-mine, and yours both. You know that our marriage is in name only. Besides, our marriage ended with your death. The people will understand that, even if they question it at first,” Gwen said.
“Guinevere,” Arthur said, and Merlin felt Arthur break contact with him while he touched Gwen’s arm. It was a more intimate touch than Merlin had ever imagined them sharing in their marriage. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to leave you, if this isn’t what you want, no matter that it will free me to love Merlin. You must tell me.”
“Arthur, it would be like asking the sun not to rise, the stars not to shine, to let this marriage keep us both from the one who makes us whole, the one who makes us feel alive, the one who makes us live. It’s time to end this, and start anew,” Gwen said.
Merlin launched himself forward, keeping pace with the tide, in pursuit of the freedom that eluded him. He raised his head above the water and sighted his goal lurking just out of reach in the deep water of the ocean that lay ahead.
“You are free,” Arthur said.
“As are you,” Gwen replied. And Merlin heard the touch of their lips, then the rustle of fabric as Gwen stood to leave.
“I’ll expect you in the council chamber tomorrow after breakfast when we welcome Adaneth and the Sidhe to their place at the Round Table,” Arthur said.
“I’ll be there,” Gwen said, walking toward the door. “And with your permission, I’d like to move my belongings out of your chambers as soon as possible. Leon’s quarters are not extravagant, but we will make do.”
“Of course,” Arthur said, and then he suddenly added, “but there’s no need for you to live with Leon beside the stables. My father’s old chambers have been vacant for some time now. There would be plenty of room for both of you. I wish you might consider moving there-but only if it would suit you.”
Gwen’s footsteps quickly crossed the stone floor back to Arthur. “You are as generous and noble as I always believed you were.” And then she kissed him again before retreating.
“Gwen?” Arthur said, stopping her.
“Yes?” she replied, raising the latch of the door.
“About Merlin… and me… how did you know?” Arthur asked.
“Really, Arthur…” Gwen began, and Merlin could hear the smile in her voice. “Poetry? Did you ever expect anyone to believe that?”
And then the door closed and Merlin was alone with Arthur again.
“Come now,” Arthur whispered, wringing out the cloth in basin and pressing it to Merlin’s brow. “Did you hear any of what Gwen and I said?”
Merlin focussed on a distant shadow on the horizon, and swam harder to reach it. The pain surged in his thigh as he kicked through the waves.
“Gwen knows that I love you,” Arthur said. “She says we’re free to be together. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You just need to wake up.”
Arthur dabbed the cloth across Merlin’s face, his fingers brushing against his lips. Merlin’s tongue darted out seeking the cloth’s moisture.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked in disbelief. “You’re thirsty… you need water.” Arthur dropped the cloth and poured water from a pitcher into a goblet that Gaius had left at Merlin’s bedside.
Merlin reached for Arthur before he could vanish into the swirling sea.
“Arthur?” Merlin tried to speak, opening his eyes and pulling Arthur’s hand to him.
“Easy, Merlin,” Arthur said when Merlin’s hands frantically grabbed at the goblet of water he held out him.
“What happened?” Merlin asked. As much as it pained him to tear his eyes away from Arthur, he steadied the cup as it met his lips, his eyes drifting shut as he drank his fill.
“What happened,” Arthur said. “I’ve been worried to death about you.”
Merlin snorted. He watched Arthur go to the door where he instructed a messenger to find Gaius. Then he was back at Merlin’s side, stroking his hair and refilling the goblet with fresh water for Merlin to drink.
“I thought I was dreaming,” Merlin said. “Was Gwen here? I dreamed she wasn’t angry with me anymore.”
“You didn’t dream that,” Arthur said taking the empty goblet from Merlin. “She was here. You must have heard parts of our conversation because you’re right-she’s no longer angry with you.”
“I’m so glad,” Merlin said. “And you’re not angry with me? I held onto your hand as long as I could. And Aithusa-”
“I could never be angry with you,” Arthur said, taking Merlin’s hand and pressing kisses to the inside of Merlin’s wrist, the bruises long since faded. “And Aithusa did fine. He’s out by the stables being fed and watered. I think his throat must get awfully dry when he spews out those flames.”
When Gaius returned, he examined Merlin from head to toe and could find nothing wrong with him besides the wound that tore the flesh of his thigh.
“And, that it’s time you had a bath,” Gaius said. “You smell like you’ve been sleeping by the shore at low tide.”
“That’s surprisingly accurate,” Arthur said. “Come along, I’ll have a bath drawn for you in my chambers.”
“Let me get some clothes from my room,” Merlin said, limping toward the alcove. “And I want to tell you about Morforwyn and how he led me back to you. I followed the water like he told me I should. Wait here for me and I’ll tell you more about it.”
Arthur folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe.
Gaius raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to remind him that he can’t tell you what to do?” Gaius asked.
Arthur drummed his fingers against his arm and looked at the ceiling. “No, we’ve moved beyond that,” he replied.
Merlin grinned when he heard Arthur’s words. He was tempted to elaborate on them for Gaius. Instead he picked through the clothes that were strewn on the floor of his alcove. He gave his tunic a sniff and decided that he could leave Gaius to sort out the rest of what had happened between Arthur and him. The idea of a hot bath in Arthur’s chambers sounded wonderful. And spending time alone with Arthur sounded even better.
“But try to avoid getting your bandaging wet,” Gaius called to him as he limped out the door, Arthur supporting him with an arm wrapped around his shoulders.
“I can’t make any promises,” Merlin said. “At least it doesn’t feel too bad right now.”
By the time he got to the bottom of the stairs that led to Arthur’s chamber, he had second thoughts. His thigh ached and he couldn’t wait to take the pain remedy that Gaius had pressed into Arthur’s hand.
“You should be taking it easy,” Arthur said, taking more of his weight. “I could carry you up?”
“I’m not a girl, Arthur,” Merlin said with disdain. “I can’t very well have you carry me upstairs like you’ve saved a damsel in distress.”
Arthur just shook his head and laughed. Merlin had never seen him so happy, his eyes so bright, his smile so brilliant. Gathering his strength, Merlin limped up the steps with Arthur behind him, ready to save him from breaking his neck if he tumbled down the stairway.
Inside Arthur’s chambers, the bath had already been filled and the fire had been stoked against the autumn chill. Merlin dipped a finger into the bath water and sulked at the lukewarm temperature.
“I figured we’d save time by just using my bath water from this morning,” Arthur said, barring the door behind him. “That way we can have some privacy without servants bustling in with their buckets of hot water.”
“I can reheat it, if that’s what you mean,” Merlin said, remembering all the times he had kept Arthur’s bath water the perfect temperature.
Arthur leaned over and rested his palms on the edge of the tub. “At least I wasn’t very dirty after spending all that time sloshing around in the lake with the Sidhe,” Arthur said.
Merlin turned his head and caught Arthur’s eyes. “Do you want to watch?” he asked.
Arthur straightened and took Merlin into his arms, his eyes flickering over Merlin’s face.
“I’d like that. I remember last night when you warmed our bedroll,” Arthur said. “I think I finally understood that your magic is so much more than evil or good. It’s a part of you-a part of the very fabric of who you are. I could feel it move through you when we touched. I hope you know that I could never rail against magic again.”
“Very well, then,” Merlin said, and after pausing to appreciate the look of adoration on Arthur’s face, his eyes flashed gold.
Steam rose from the water in the tub and the air of Arthur’s chambers was filled with fragrant herbs.
Arthur tilted forward and left a soft kiss on Merlin’s lips.
“I’ll leave you to your bath, then,” Arthur said. “I’ll return soon.”
Merlin watched Arthur unbolt the door, closing it gently behind him. He shucked out of his jacket and sat in a chair to remove his boots, not wanting to add stress to the bandaged wound on his thigh. As he pulled his tunic over his head, he realized that he had never been naked in Arthur’s chambers before. He couldn’t really decide whether he should be feeling shy or not. Of course Arthur had seen him naked countless times before as they bathed while on patrol or jumped into a lake while hunting on a hot summer day, but this was a little different.
He slid his breeches and smallclothes off in one motion, hoping to minimize the pain from his injury. Stepping inside the tub, he soon realized that the wound was close enough to his knee that if he sat with his knee bent just so, he could keep the bandage dry.
He filled the dipper and poured the hot water over his hair and worked out the tangles with his fingers. On the low cupboard beside the tub, he found a cake of Arthur’s favourite soap and used it to scrub the dirt from his hair, leaving it to steep in a white lather.
After scrubbing his skin, he sat back and let the water wash over him. The heat soaked into his muscles and soothed the tender aches he suffered from his fall from Aithusa’s back.
He closed his eyes and let his mind turn over the events of the past days-his realization that he was in love with Arthur, the battle with the Saxons, Arthur’s death and rebirth, being thrown into the dungeons, Kilgharrah’s death, Aithusa returning like a needy child, disagreements with Gwen and Gaius, the acceptance of the Sidhe and the magic that would likely follow-all his decisions and concerns had been eased and calmed by the appearance of the manatee at the lake. Morforwyn had always assured Merlin that he was doing the right thing, even if he wasn’t always successful. Even when Merlin’s plan to raise Arthur from the dead with the horn of Cathbhadh hadn’t worked, Morforwyn had been supportive and had helped him find another way.
He wondered where the manatee was now. Merlin hoped that Morforwyn had found his way toward the freedom Merlin made available to him, if that was what he truly desired. It still seemed strange to Merlin when he considered the differences between what he desired and what he only thought he desired when the great dragon had offered his advice. Merlin supposed the difference was that now his love for Arthur was free to grow without concern for destiny and the great kingdom Arthur might lead. All they had to worry about now was each other and the love that had blossomed between them-no thanks to Merlin’s secret-keeping.
Merlin opened his eyes. The last time he and Arthur were in his chambers together, he was telling Arthur that he couldn’t join him as he prepared for war against Morgana and the Saxons. Arthur had been so disappointed in him. He should have told him about his magic right then, but what good would it have done if he couldn’t use it to help Arthur? He shook his head, glad that the days of keeping his magic a secret were over.
The soft rap of knuckles sounded on the door.
Merlin’s head snapped up and he was relieved to see Arthur returning to him with a tray of food and a jug of watered wine.
“It’s only me,” Arthur said, setting the tray on the table and bolting the door behind him. “I’ve brought food-you must be starving.”
Merlin settled back into the bath and abandoned the idea of being self-conscious about his nakedness. This was Arthur, the same Arthur he had known for years, and the same Arthur he had loved for as long as he could remember, even if he didn’t always realize it at the time. “I am,” Merlin said. “It seems like days since we ate those pear tarts.”
”We?” Arthur asked, carrying the tray to Merlin. “As I recall, you enjoyed them all for yourself.”
“Sorry,” Merlin said with a smile. He started to get out of the tub, but Arthur stopped him by pulling a chair close to where he soaked.
“Your hair,” Arthur said. “It’s as white as that old man you disguised yourself as.”
“Oh. Did you never recognize me?” Merlin asked. He took a goblet of wine from the tray and sipped some of the liquid down, hoping it would ease some of his pain without the need for Gaius’s remedy that might make him sleep again.
Arthur sat beside him and leaned in close. “I always thought that there was something familiar about him,” he said taking a fingerful of suds from Merlin’s hair. “I just couldn’t put my finger on it.” Merlin went cross-eyed as Arthur deposited the suds from his finger onto his nose.
Then, Merlin watched as Arthur lifted the dipper. He closed his eyes and let Arthur drip the water through his hair, working out the soap with gentle touches of his fingers. Merlin felt truly cherished by the attention Arthur lavished on him. Arthur refilled the dipper and rinsed Merlin’s hair again, not stopping until Merlin was certain that his hair was black and shiny as always.
When Arthur seemed satisfied, Merlin reached for the cupboard beside the tub where he grabbed a sheet of linen.
“You looked like you were deep in thought when I came in,” Arthur said, popping a grape into his mouth before offering one to Merlin. “What were you thinking about?”
Merlin dried his face on the linen and let out a long breath. He looked around the room, the impending sunset lighting the stone walls with a crimson glow. “I was remembering how sorry I was that I had to leave you the last time we were in this room together. I had lost my magic and couldn’t go with you to Camlann.”
“You mentioned that Morgana did that to you,” Arthur said grimly. “I’m so sorry.”
Merlin carefully held onto the edge of the tub and stood. He felt Arthur’s eyes on him as he wrapped himself in the cloth. The droplets of water trickled down his chest.
“Will you stay now?” Arthur asked hopefully, but he glanced away, unsure. Merlin didn’t let it bother him. He had put up with the king’s stunted emotions for most of his adult life. He had no plans to let them subdue the joy in his heart now. There was nothing that could stop him, except maybe one thing.
“Arthur,” Merlin said, brushing the golden hair from his brow and letting his fingers slide down his face until they rested under his chin. He tilted Arthur’s face toward him to force Arthur to meet his gaze. “You’d have to send me to the dungeons in cold iron to make me leave you tonight.”
That earned him a small grin from Arthur, but Merlin wasn’t going to let him stop there. Merlin stepped into Arthur’s embrace, not caring that the linen fell to the floor. The feel of his hot damp skin on Arthur’s dry tunic and breeches made Merlin let out a moan of pleasure. It had been years since he had even dreamed of anyone touching his cock, besides himself. The soft weave of Arthur’s breeches against his skin was too much to keep quiet about and he pressed his hips forward so he could feel it again while Arthur’s hands roamed his naked back.
Merlin felt Arthur’s teeth skim across his sensitive ear lobe. It sent a tingle through Merlin that went straight to his cock, which hardened further as Arthur nipped and licked, his breath warm in Merlin’s ear.
“Listen to you,” Arthur whispered, his lips smiling against Merlin’s neck. “Gaius always said, one whiff of a barmaid’s apron and you’d be singing like a sailor.”
“Oh, come now, I’ve only had one sip of wine, and you haven’t heard me sing yet,” Merlin laughed.
“I’m hoping I’ll get to,” Arthur said with a smile.
Emboldened, Merlin’s fingers went to the laces of Arthur’s tunic and he began to loosen their knot. For all his eagerness, Arthur watched him fumble to get the laces undone. Eventually, Merlin gave up on the knot and magicked the knot undone with a flash of gold in his eyes. He hoped that Arthur wouldn’t think it was too forward of him, using magic to help get him naked.
Merlin slipped his hands beneath the hem of Arthur’s tunic, the white one that had always been Merlin’s favourite. Arthur’s muscles contracted at the touch of Merlin’s fingertips as Merlin stripped it from him, letting it land on the floor. Arthur stood before Merlin now as Merlin had seen him dozens of times, with his flat belly and his taut chest with its golden skin and smattering of light hair. Only now, the skin was Merlin’s to touch, the perfect pink nipples were Merlin’s to lick and to suck with a passion that he didn’t know he possessed a week ago.
It was hard to think about any of the events of the past week when Arthur framed Merlin’s face in his hands and kissed him thoroughly. Merlin’s mouth opened under Arthur’s and he welcomed the intrusion of Arthur’s tongue as he slid it against his own, exploring and tasting. When they broke apart for air, Arthur stepped back to kick off his boots, ever mindful of the damp bandaging on Merlin’s thigh that they were trying to keep dry.
“Maybe we should take the bandage off,” Merlin suggested, his half-hard cock vying for more attention than the injury.
“If you think that’s a good idea,” Arthur said. “You’re the physician.”
Arthur took Merlin’s hand and led him to his bed. “Sit here,” Arthur said. “Gaius will have your head if your wound starts bleeding again.”
Arthur slid his hands down Merlin’s arms and knelt on the floor in front of him. He untied the bandaged with practiced hands that had tended his mens’ injuries in battle and on the practice field for more years than Merlin cared to think about.
“That doesn’t look so bad,” Merlin said when Arthur pulled the bandage away. He was relieved to see that the injury had already begun to heal without any sign of infection.
“It’s bad enough for me to think that you have ever suffered any injury in the defence of Camelot,” Arthur said, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s knee.
Merlin slid his fingers into Arthur’s golden hair. “But that’s what I do best,” he said. “I defend you.”
Arthur stood and stroked Merlin’s shoulders. He leaned and touched his forehead to Merlin’s. “Still, I think you’d better lie down, to take the strain off it,” Arthur said.
“As an assistant to Camelot’s physician, I think you’re right,” Merlin said.
He let Arthur guide him down into the bedding and he settled amongst the comfortable pillows and blankets that he arranged himself a thousand times. But today, he smiled when he felt the mattress dip beside him and the press of Arthur’s body, warm and naked against his back.
“I’m glad your wound looks like it’s healing,” Arthur said, slipping an arm around Merlin’s waist. “If anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I would do.”
“I’ll be fine,” Merlin said, turning his head to find Arthur’s lips for a kiss. “It hurts, but there’s no need to worry.”
Arthur left a trail of kisses across Merlin’s cheek and down his jaw. “When you were asleep today, and you wouldn’t awaken… it terrified me,” Arthur said.
Merlin rolled onto his back and reached up to stroke Arthur’s hair. “I may have lost you once, but you won’t lose me,” Merlin said.
“You’re everything to me. It’s always been you, even Gwen knew it,” Arthur said. “If I ever lost you…”
Merlin could tell Arthur was struggling for words, so he did the best thing he could think of and kissed him again.
Arthur’s skin felt warm against Merlin’s, even though Merlin had just come out of the hot bath. He stretched his legs against Arthur’s gently, determined not to disturb his healing thigh.
“We’ll have to move slowly,” Arthur said, stilling Merlin with a hand on his bare hip.
“I am moving slowly,” Merlin said, lazily kissing Arthur again.
With a flash of his magic, Merlin ignited the wicks of the candles that littered the table, the nightstand and the shelf beside the bed. Arthur propped himself up on one elbow to look at Merlin and Merlin smiled when Arthur looked impressed.
“How could I never have known?” Arthur asked, running his hand from Merlin’s hip to his chest.
“I was very good at keeping it a secret,” Merlin whispered. The sensation of Arthur’s fingers on his naked body made Merlin want to drag Arthur on top of him, to rut against him until he came.
“I want to touch you,” Arthur said.
Merlin had no complaint. He dragged Arthur’s hand down his chest and keened loudly when Arthur’s fingers wrapped around his hard cock. He felt Arthur’s smile against his neck and it made him flush with warmth when Arthur tugged at him awkwardly, his left hand working the slick out of him while Merlin bucked into his hand.
“What?” Arthur asked, playfully nipping at Merlin’s earlobe.
“It feels so strange,” Merlin said, before a short huff of laughter escaped his chest.
Arthur’s hand stilled and he stopped breathing in Merlin’s ear.
“Merlin?” Arthur asked, “Do you mean to tell me that in all these years no one has ever taken you?”
The candles stuttered in the silence.
Merlin reached down to grasp Arthur’s hand where it was touching him. “What I lack in experience, I make up for in enthusiasm,” Merlin said hopefully, pulling Arthur’s head back to his shoulder with his other hand.
“You’re sure you want this?” Arthur asked softly, moving his hand in tandem with Merlin’s.
Merlin closed his eyes, not wanting to reveal any uncertainty, in case it was there. In truth, he could think of no better way to surrender his virtue.
“Arthur, please...” Merlin whined, squeezing his hand tighter and urging Arthur to move faster.
“Show me, Merlin,” Arthur whispered encouragingly into Merlin's ear. “Show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone in your bed.”
Merlin turned his head to capture Arthur's lips with his own, but Arthur was gone. He had crawled down the bed to occupy the space between Merlin’s legs.
“Tell me what you think about,” Arthur said, his breath hot against the paper-thin skin of Merlin’s balls.
“I think of you fucking me,” Merlin said, louder than he meant to.
Merlin spread his legs wider as Arthur flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin.
“You’re beautiful, Merlin,” Arthur whispered, gently pushing his shoulder under Merlin’s knee to lift his leg and protect his injury. “As beautiful as I always imagined you to be.”
Merlin felt like he was going to burst from the pleasure of it, Arthur’s voice, his hands, his tongue. He slung his forearm across his mouth to keep himself from crying out.
Arthur's fingers crept lower, petting the soft skin that had never been touched before. When he brushed his fingertips over Merlin’s hole, Merlin gasped.
“The oil,” Merlin whispered, squeezing his cock so he wouldn’t come too soon. “I read about it in one of Gaius’s books.”
Arthur shuffled across the bed and reached into the nightstand drawer for the oil that Merlin knew he used on himself from time to time.
“You’re sure?” Arthur whispered, more serious than Merlin had ever heard him speak before.
Merlin nodded, lost in the feeling of Arthur’s fingers, slow and certain as they worked him open. He felt like a fool for never understanding before how good it would feel to have Arthur ministering to his body’s every need. When he was gasping for breath and pushing back onto Arthur’s fingers, Arthur slid forward to press his thighs against Merlin’s. He paused and let his gaze roam over Merlin’s face.
“Please, Arthur,” Merlin said. “I’m going to be spent before we’ve started.”
When Arthur pushed his cock inside him, it was slow and only a tiny bit painful, but Merlin could take it. He had slain an evil priestess and brought a king back from death. He had commanded dragons and befriended a manatee. He had let his magic run free and had given himself to the man he loved. This was nothing, compared to all those things.
Arthur carefully gripped Merlin’s trembling thighs as they moved together, his eyes scanning Merlin’s face for any sign of discomfort. Merlin dug his fingernails into Arthur’s forearms and bit down on his bottom lip, wanting to prolong the feeling of being utterly adored for as long as he could, but it was hopeless.
With one final push, a shout of pleasure was ripped from Merlin’s lungs as his seed coated his chest, his magic flaring and spiraling from his fingertips with his bliss. The flicker of magicglow seemed to spur Arthur on. His hands tightened their grip and he let out a breathless whine that lasted for ages as he spent himself inside Merlin.
When Arthur opened his eyes again, he looked with wonder at the sparkles of magic that swirled through his bedchamber like feathers from a pillowfight.
After mopping up the mess and kissing Merlin again, Arthur flopped onto his back. “Why didn’t we do this a long time ago?” he asked, pulling Merlin close.
“I didn’t know you wanted to,” Merlin said, diving for Arthur’s lips again. He flinched in dismay when Arthur lightly cuffed the back of his head.
“Idiot,” Arthur said, his breath ghosting Merlin’s cheek.
“What was that for?” Merlin asked.
“You’ve kept your promise,” Arthur said, nuzzling into the space beneath Merlin’s ear.
“Which promise was that?” Merlin asked.
Arthur drew back and scanned Merlin’s face. In the quiet candlelight of the king’s bedchamber, Merlin thought Arthur’s eyes took on their own magical light.
“When I asked you to keep being you,” Arthur said, pressing another kiss to Merlin’s lips. “You’ve done it. You’re insolent, argumentative, outspoken, you commit treason at least once every day, and you spend far too much time in the tavern.”
“You love me,” Merlin protested, stroking Arthur’s calf with the toes of one foot.
“I do,” Arthur said. “What are we going to do about that?”
“We could do it again,” Merlin said.
And so they did.
In the days that followed, Arthur regained his kingdom and the respect of all the people of Albion. A feast was held to honour those who fell in the battle with the Saxons and Morgana. Of all the king’s knights, none was remembered with more honour or gratitude than the noble and brave Sir Gwaine.
As a favour to Merlin, Gwen arranged for Hunith to live at the court. In Hunith, Arthur finally had what he had always wanted and never thought he would have, a mother’s love.
With the help of the Sidhe, magic was reinstated in the realm and magic users lived and worked alongside those who remembered the time when magic was outlawed through the land. With Merlin at his side, Arthur brought Camelot into its golden age.
And somewhere in the depths of the open sea, a manatee smiled.
The end