Merlin Everybody Knows (Except You!)

Merlin often congratulated himself on being a splendid keeper of secrets. He'd been in Camelot for months now as a member of the Royal Household - serving the Crown Prince no less - and nobody had the slightest clue that he was (according to Gaius at least) one of the most powerful warlocks of his generation. (Except of course for Lancelot who had caught him enchanting the weapon that had killed the Griffen, but that was a quirk, Merlin decided...and so really shouldn't be counted).

Since he was so good at being able to hide things, he was pretty certain that nobody guessed at, or even noticed, his growing adoration for his master. If he was totally honest with himself, even at their first meeting Merlin had found Arthur rather easy on the eye - even if he had behaved like an arrogant overprivileged prat! - but as he got to know the man, his original feelings of irritation and hostility had gradually been replaced first with respect and lately with something approaching worship!

He knew that his feelings were improper. Arthur was a man, obviously, and thus Merlin really shouldn't be going weak kneed like some blushing maiden whilst thinking of him . Arthur was Crown Prince and Merlin was a mere peasant from a tiny impoverished village so there was absolutely no point whatsoever mooning over the fellow since there was obviously not a cat in hell's chance that anything could ever happen between them. He couldn't help it though. Arthur was still as handsome as he had been upon their first meeting and of course now that he was The Prince's manservant, Merlin had the opportunity to study at his leisure the downright grace of the man. As he rode his horse, as he trained with his knights, hell - even as he simply walked around the castle! Merlin also had the privilage to attend Arthur in his chambers so saw him every day in various states of undress, helping him to bathe, waking him from slumber in the mornings (this was possibly the highlight of his day...) and attending to his wardrobe. Merlin felt that he knew the contours of Arthur's chest and back as well as he knew the contours of his own face, and he liked what he saw. A lot. Too much, maybe. Sometimes it was hard not to stroke that back in reverance as he checked that Arthur's tunic sat correctly across his shoulders. He often worried that he'd let his hands linger a bit too long on Arthur's body but the Prince had never complained so he thought maybe that he was overanalysing.

Over and above all this however, Merlin had learned that beneath the facade of arrogance and occasional prattishness there actually hid a noble, brave and loyal soul. It had taken a while for Merlin to pick up on this, since Arthur could be really rather maddening sometimes. However, realisation had been growing steadily since the day the Prince had apologised to him and then reinstated him after having sacked him during the Valiant affair. Merlin had been gobsmacked that the actual Crown Prince had sought him out (a mere peasant!) to apologise for doubting his word. He wasn't the only one that had been shocked by this - the other servants had confided in him that until he arrived, the average time that anyone served as manservant to the Prince was three months and to fired in the first week as Merlin had been was really not uncommon!

Then Merlin had also been utterly bamboozled to learn that Arthur had risked life and limb to bring the Morteus flower to cure him after he had been poisioned - what a hero!

Although ill advised, Merlin could not fail to admire the man's bravery when Arthur had ridden out to face the Griffen. The Prince was simply not willing to send Knights in his stead into a situation that could very easily have resulted in death.

And despite constantly bickering with, or complaining about Morgana, Arthur had been beside himself with worry when she had been afflicted with the mystery illness that had almost killed her. It was Arthur's insistance that they bring Edwin Miurdan in to help when Gaius had given up hope of being able to save her. (OK, in retrospect that hadn't been the best idea, thought Merlin, but Arthur's intentions had been noble...).

Merlin remembered with a frown how Arthur had been almost immediately besotted by Sophia and how he had harboured a little pang of jealousy within himself until it had become apparent that shewas actually one of the sidhe and had ensorcered the Prince. Merlin thought back to when he had pulled the Prince from Lake Avalon after Sophia and her father had tried to kill him. The memory made him shiver involuntarily. He had held Arthur in his arms, not sure if the Prince was alive or dead. He had felt that his heart might break if Arthur was beyond help, unable to imagine existance without him. It was in that moment that he knew that his feelings for the Prince might well be love. Since then his every waking thought was for his master in a way that went way beyond his manservantly duty!

So, with powerful magic AND a massive crush on the Crown Prince to keep hidden, Merlin was very pleased to be such a brilliantly skilled keeper of secrets!

But apparently his skills were not as well honed as he'd thought. During Arthur's coming of age crowning ceremony, Merlin thought that Gwen may have tumbled his game. He had been innocently standing at the back of the room with her, holding a pitcher of wine and watching as Arthur was sworn in by Uther. The Prince had looked outstanding that day, dressed as he was in ceremonial red with his hair shining almost as brightly as the crown that Uther had placed upon his son's head. Merlin felt personally responsible for the shinyness of that hair, having mixed up a special concoction of camomile flowers and beer which he had (eventually) convinced the Prince was the perfect shampoo. Before the event Arthur had been a bundle of nerves and tension and had been snarkier than usual with Merlin, but of course none of this was evident now, and he was nobility personified as he swore his oath and stood up with the crown in his hair looking positively angelic. Merlin looked on, quietly bursting with pride and adoration. His heart was so full that he heaved a great, happy sigh. Gwen was standing beside him and shook him from his reverie when she said, "So how does it feel to be the manservant to the Crown Prince of Camelot?"

Part of Merlin wanted to confide in Gwen and admit that he adored this man and was so enamoured of him sometimes he felt his heart might burst. But he couldn't. Instead he said as casually as he could, "Washing his royal socks will be even more of a privilage"

"You're proud of him really, even though you complain about him constantly" replied Gwen.

Did he? He hadn't realised.

"I am not" he blustered, unable to take his eyes off his Prince.

"You are" insisted Gwen, grinning knowingly up at him, "I can see it in your face"

Melin's stomach did a backflip, wondering just how much his face might be giving away. Reluctantly he turned his gaze away from the Prince and looked directly at Gwen as he insisted earnestly, "Those socks are very clean, of course I'm proud of them".

Any further denial - or possible confessio - was forgotten when the window beside him shattered into a thousand pieces and the Knight on a black horse crashed into the throne room and threw down his gauntlet.

...

Merlin had watched from the sidelines as first Sir Owain and then Sir Pelinor had taken up the mysterious horseman's challenge and been slain on the tournament field. He had seen Arthur's frustration at not being the one to fight and his distress when these two brave good men had fallen. He had wanted to hug the Prince, to comfort him, to give the fellow an opportunity to show some emotion - to grieve - Uther would not tolerate such weaknesses in his son and Merlin could see how tense Arthur had become because of all this pent up sorrow.

When Merlin realised that the mystery Knight was undead and therefore unkillable, he was so relieved that it hadn't been Arthur that had taken up the gauntlet.

And then the dollophead had gone and thrown down the gauntlet himself! Merlin thought his heart had stopped in the moment that Arthur issued the challenge, and it took all of his self control not to scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO" at the top of his voice in front of the whole tourney ground. He was in a panic - how could he possibly use magic to save Arthur when this time the fight was against something already dead?

He thought he'd cracked this problem after reading about mortal magic and so headed out in the dead of night to burn the wraith with a spell. He was convinced that he could kill it and save his Prince from having to fight it. But he had failed - he stared in disbelief as the thing simply stood in the ring of fire he'd conjured, unharmed, and then ran for his life as it turned it's hollow souless eyes onto him. What the hell could he do now? There was nothing for it. He would have to plead with Arthur not to face the thing.

He barged into the bed chamber without thinking to knock and totally ignored Arthur's (rather half hearted) admonishment about not doing so. He launched straight into his plea, telling the Prince that he had to pull out otherwise he was likely to die. It took all of his self control not to reveal his true feelings as he pleaded with Arthur.

"Just pull out. You're the Crown Prince and no one wants to see you die over some stupid challenge" he said, and almost added, "I can't bear to watch you killed and can't even consider life without you"

"I'm not a coward" was Arthur's response.

"I know that!" exclaimed Merlin' "I've stood there and I've watched you overcome every fear you've ever faced" (and loved you more for it)

"That's what's required of me" replied Arthur brusquely.

"But you are more than that, you're not merely a warrior, you're a Prince - a future King!" Merlin was almost shouting in frustration and desperation by now (and was thinking and almost saying 'You're my reason for living').

But Arthur wasn't listening, insisting that "nobody is unbeatable".

Merlin wanted to throttle him and wanted to scream in frustration. The man was so bloody stubborn! Instead he calmly and bluntly stated, "If you fight him you will die"

Arthur's only comeback was, "I'm not listening to this". Merlin was at his wit's end. He walked back over toward Arthur, intent on shaking or maybe slapping some sense into him.

"I'm trying to warn you Arthur" he shouted, and was desperate enough that he really was on the verge of saying, "Please, for me, don't go and get yourself killed - I couldn't bear it!" but before he'd managed to spit out this declaration Arthur had swung around and was holding the sword at his throat with a look of murder in his eyes.

"AND I'M TRYING TO WARN YOU MERLIN!" he bellowed.

Merlin was frozen in shock for a second and fought back an almost irrisistable urge to scream at his Prince for being so damned noble and so bloddy stubborn, or to lean in and kiss him and to cling to him and plead again for him not to fight. But the look of raw fury in Arthur's eyes shook him to his senses and instead he stormed out of the room. He got about five paces down the corridor before he broke down in tears of frustration and rage. He was desperate! Unless he did something drastic - and he had no idea what that would be - that may well have been the last time he saw Arthur alive. He couldn't bear it!

He stormed back towards Gaius' chambers but changed his mind about half way there. He didn't want Gaius to see him like this and anyway he knew that he stood no chance of sleeping this night. Instead he headed off toward the library. He knew it's be deserted at this hour so at least he would be able to cry himself out undisturbed, and could carry on searching through books to see if there was anything - anything! - that might help him save Arthur.

...

He could have kissed Geoffrey the librarian when he told him about the sword 'begotten in the dragon's breath' and how it could kill something already dead. At last! A plan! He thought about bringing Arthur's sword from the Armoury, then remembered that the Prince had been wielding it in his room (and had almost taken his head off with it!). No, he thought, something special and strong was called for. He thought about Tom the Blacksmith - Gwen's father - and dashed off to Gwen's house in the lower town.

Bless her, Gwen went straight to the forge and came back with a magnificent sword. Merlin was no expert in weaponry but even he could tell that it was a thing of beauty and exquisite workmanship. He held it in his hands and studied the blade with something approaching awe.

"My father will kill me if he finds out I've taken it" said Gwen as he looked at the sword.

"He'll understand", said Merlin, "You did it for Arthur". He glanced up when Gwen gave no reply and caught her giving him a knowing look.

"I knew you were proud of him really" she said, but her eyes showed understanding. Merlin smiled back sheepishly. He wasn't quite ready to disclose all his feelings for Arthur just yet, but he knew that Gwen knew, and that she'd be the one person he would be able to confide in. But right now, there was a sword to burnish and a Prince to save from almost certain death!

...

The Dragon took a lot of convincing to do the deed. Merlin had pleaded with him and reasoned that if Arthur died then he would have no destiny. The dragon had understood his unspoken words that without Arthur his reason for living would be gone. Finally the Dragon conceded but was maddeningly insistent that Merlin promise that only Arthur wield it. After giving a solemn promise, Merlin stood back and shielded himself from the flames as the dragon breathed fire onto the blade. He could hear the magic singing all around him as the flames died down and when he looked up at the still glowing sword his breath caught in his throat. It was magnificent! It's physical form had not changed apart from a runic engraving close to the hilt, but it was suddenly aglow with beauty and humming with magic. As Merlin gazed upon it it struck him as the perfect physical embodiment of his love for Arthur. Like Arthur it was strong and perfectly formed and eminating a golden glow. Like Merlin it was thrumming with magical power and ready to do the Prince's bidding. Merlin decided on the spot that he would present it to his Prince the following morning and let him know exactly how he felt.

...

Merlin awaited Arthur in the armoury the following morning. He couldn't resist looking at and holding the beautiful sword as he waited. It's beauty and thrumming power were hypnotic. He imagined Arthur's reaction when he presented it and made his declaration of love. He imagined Arthur fighting the wraith and beating it and how in joy and relief he might embrace Merlin. He imagined a future when Arthur was King and fought off Camelot's foes with this fine blade and Merlin at his side. He imagined...

Suddenly he was shaken from his reverie by the voice, not of Arthur, but of the King! "That's a fine blade", said Uther, echoing Merlin's own thoughts back to him.

"It's for Arthur" blurted Merlin, hastily putting down the sword and covering it with cloth - he wanted only Arthur to admire it's beauty.

"He won't be needing it today, I will be taking Arthur's place" said Uther in a voice more subdued than anything Merlin had ever heard from him.

Merlin was astonished, "B-but Sire - Arthur should be the one that fights today"

"The grievance is with me, the fight is mine" answered Uther somewhat distractedly whilst flicking the cloth back and studying the enchanted sword more closely.

Merlin was flustered. He could almost hear the magic humming off the thing and was sure that Uther must be able to sense something too. "I have your own one" he said, heading off to bring Uther's own blade.

"That'll do" said the King softly, "It's likely to make little difference"

Merlin was in a panic. Surely Uther would feel the magic as soon as he touched the blade, and he'd just remembered the promise he'd made to the dragon. "I'll get you your sword" he insisted.

"This one will be fine". The King seemed almost hypnotised by the sword!

"No Sire, you don't understand, that sword was made specifically for Arthur" pressed Merlin. He couldn't let the King use it!

"Who made it?" asked Uther.

"Tom the blacksmith"

"It's worthy of a King" crooned Uther, marvelling at the feel of the thing. Merlin's stomach clenched. He had to fight with himself not to reply to this that yes, it had been made for the future King, who was worthy of the title. He concentrated hard on doing up the buckles of Uther's armour. This was so wrong. HIs mind raced to find a way to somehow fix this mess.

"You would be better off with a sword you trusted" he insisted, when he could trust himself to speak again.

"No, it has almost perfect balance" said Uther as he weighed it in his palm, "Tom's not the royal swordsmith, I'm surprised Arthur went to him"

"No, that was me" blurted Merlin. Uther stopped dead and for the first time since entering the room - possibly since Merlin had arrived in Camelot - he looked Merlin squarely in the eyes. "I felt he needed a better sword" continued Merlin, hoping that he's not unwittingly broken Court Protocol by not going to the appointed swordsmith.

"You show him the most extraordinary loyalty" stated Uther, looking searchingly at Merlin's face.

Merlin felt in that moment that Uther could read his mind, so looked down and quietly said, "It's my job, Sire"

"Beyond the line of duty" continued Uther, his gaze not wavering from Merlin's face.

Merlin decided to take the bull by the horns and confess... "Well you could say there is a bond between us"

There. He'd said it. He was certain that his face showed exactly the depth of fwwling he harboured for Arthur.

Uther paused for a moment, still looking fixedly at Merlin. Merlin thought that he was on the verge of being flogged, or put in the stocks, or maybe banished, or even possibly executed for such presumption. His heart was in his throat, his legs ready to make a run for it if need be...and he really was not expecting Uther's next words.

"I'm glad. Look after him" said the King as he left the armoury, heading off to the tourney ground and almost certain death.

Merlin was stunned. He just stood and watched the King go and let out a breath that he hadn't even realised he had been holding. He had confessed his feelings for Arthur to the King, and the King had given him his blessing! Merlin couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. Whatever the outcome of this day, he would tell the Prince how he felt and that Uther himself had approved!

...

Despite his distaste for the shedding of blood, Merlin felt drawn to watch Uther fight the wraith. He felt he must keep close to the sword. If Uther insisted on using it, Merlin would at least keep an eye on it, and take it away to Arthur as soon as the fight was over, whatever the outcome. He was as shocked as anyone else when the sword hit home and the wraith burst into flames and dissapeared. He felt a jolt of something like physical pain when Uther simply tossed the sword aside once he had won the fight. How could he so carelessly discard such a thing of beauty?

...

At the end of a very long day in which he hadn't had a chance to see Arthur, Merlin lay on his cot contemplating what he might say to the fellow. Gwen knew, the Dragon knew, Gaius was always telling him off for his unerring devotion for the Prince, now even Uther knew and approved! It was time Arthur knew too!

Merlin was shaken from his musings by the voice of the Great Dragon in his head. He was reluctant to explain to the beast what had actually occured that day, but experience had taught himthat it was pointless to ignore the calling.

The creature was not happy when Merlin related the day's events. Not happy at all! For a few moments, Merlin thought it might incinerate him on the spot and it's shouts would shake out the very foundations of the Catle! The Dragon was implacable, despite Merlin's many apologies. Much as it pained Merlin, he offered to bring the sword to be destroyed. But apparently, "what is made cannot be unmade".

Merlin had no idea what he could do to make amends, "What do you want me to do?" he pleaded in exasperation. The Dragon's reply made his heart sink.

"Take the blade far from here and place it where no mortal man can ever find it".

After a sleepless night, Merlin went straight off at dawn to do just that. He picked up the sword from it's place in the armoury and studied the utter beauty of the thing. His heart was heavy as he wrapped it up in cloth and headed off into the forest, bound for the most distant lake of the Kingdom. As he hiked there he thought back over the events of the last few days. He was such an idiot. What had he been thinking? Of course he couldn't tell Arthur how he felt! Of course they were nothing more than master and servant! Of course he could never ever, ever, ever let Arthur know about his magic so of course the Prince would never truly know him. As he acknowledged this last fact a little bit of his heart died.

He reached the water's edge and unwrapped the sword from it's cloth for one final time. For the last time he held it in his hand and looked upon it's golden beauty. He never wanted to let it go. But, before he was tempted to do otherwise, he pitched it with all his might as far away as he could, into the heart of the icy lake. As he watched it hit the surface and sink below the water he felt his dreams shatter and his heart break.

He resolved that his love for Arthur would be just like that sword - indestructable, but hidden away from mortal man for ever.


End file.

Merlin, Angst