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The very first time Arthur acknowledged Merlin’s help, he was stood on top of the battlements. But it wasn’t Merlin to whom he spoke.
“All I do know is that I had help. Someone knew I was in trouble and…sent a light To guide the way.”
Merlin leaned all the way around from where he had hidden himself, chasing after the sound. Magic. Such obvious, blatant magic. And Arthur talked about it so casually, with his father right next to him.
Was he trying to get Merlin executed?
“Who?” Morgana’s voice had probably taken less than a moment to speak, but it flooded through to Merlin like a wave. He can’t know. Anything but that.
“Whoever it was, I’m only here because of them.” At those words, Merlin’s mind relaxed, and his fingers went slightly numb. The strange thing was, even though he hadn’t been in Camelot for long, he already knew his fate. His destiny. The way his world was going to go. Protecting the royal prat, never receiving any credit. Working from the shadows.
But Arthur knew.
Except for the fact that he didn’t. And hopefully never would.
Some distant part of him heard Morgana’s voice again, whispering to Arthur before Merlin’s gaze was captured back over the top of the battlements. The legions of Bayard’s men trotted away through the tress, blue cloaks steaming out, leaving Camelot behind, probably for a very long time. Innocent enough they may be, but Bayard would not be so quick to forgive being imprisoned in the same dungeon as his staff, and Uther wasn’t a man who trusted easily.
But Merlin liked watching them leave. That, just like the blue they wore, they would wash away all of the strain and struggle of the last few days, brushing it out of Camelot like the morning breeze. Returning it back to nature, where all terrible things land, in the end.
It was over, or perhaps, not so much.
“Arthur?” For a second, Merlin worried he had given away his place, but it was not his voice who spoke. And there was only one other man on the planet who dared call him as such. And Merlin allowed his brain to fade out again, listening to the beating of the hooves and cracking of twigs, letting himself nurse his wounds in peace.
His head almost cracked against the stone as he lay it there, sunlight basking across his pale face. And he smiled, just to himself.
It was the kind of smile that only Arthur could bring out of him, really.
Exasperated. Exhausted. And yet, so very, very relieved.
*
If there was anything Merlin had never expected, was that it was going to happen again. The credit was a one time thing surely, and for a while, that seemed to be enough for both of them. Arthur continued to be a prat and get himself into far more trouble than he was worth. And, once it was all over, Arthur would smile at Merlin with all the force of the sun, and everything would be forgiven, all the hard work, and the injuries that went far deeper than his skin and bones. Then, his hair would be ruffled, and a different topic entirely would be discussed, and that would be that.
Or, at least in Merlin's mind.
Merlin wasn't hiding. He really wasn't, he could never. But, the thing was, he had been entirely too distracted with his magical research the night before to actually remember to get any sleep, and as such had elected too...not attend to Arthur in the morning. Or fetch his breakfast. Or take the time to find somebody else to go and replace him. In his defence, he had just fought a manticore. Surely, that would count for something.
So, when Merlin heard the typical stomping of Arthur's boots down the stairs, he did the only thing he possibly could, and clambered into a nearby barrel. Even though the wood, he could tell Gaius was giving him a very firm look, eyebrows included. The worst kind.
But, it was Merlin's surprise, when Arthur didn't throw the door open like he already had a replacement prepared, but opened it carefully. Slowly. It should have been a sign of danger and yet...Merlin was interested. He couldn't help it.
“Gaius?”
Outside the barrel, a chair creaked, and fabric ruffled.
“Yes, sire?”
“Is Merlin here?”
To Merlin's astonishment Arthur was whispering, quiet as he possibly could.
“I'm afraid not sire, I sent him to collect urgent herbs this morning. Completely unavoidable, and he'll probably be gone for...a while now, I should think.”
“Good.”
It seemed that neither Gaius nor Merlin was expecting that answer, because even in the constrains of the barrel, Merlin forced his hand up to cover his shout of surprise.
“My Lord?” The shock echoed back in Gaius's voice.
“It's probably for the best, for this conversation.”
Wood screamed on the other side, and Merlin fought desperately against the urge to sneeze. Not sure if it would be more embarrassing to be uncovered hiding in a barrel, or to warp himself slightly wrong, and have to be taken out of the barrel by force. He would very much rather the answer to that question to be neither.
“Very well then.” Papers ruffled. Light leaked through the sides of the barrel and Merlin blinked, finding himself feeling rather drowsy all of the sudden, with the new flash of heat that seemed to come alongside it. But he needed to know. And to not get stuck in the barrel. That too. “Speak your mind, my Lord. I have nothing much else that needs to be done urgently.”
Arthur gave a long, thoughtful sigh, that Merlin had previously thought he was entirely incapable of making. But perhaps there really was a first time for everything.
“Do you know anything about....magical lights?”
The drowsiness of a quiet morning that had filled Merlin flooded off him in an instant, and his veins ran with ice.
“Magical light?”
“Or, well, magical help I suppose. In the form of light. What kind of sorcerer would do such a thing? Was it not a sorcerer? How did they know I was in trouble?”
Merlin's heart hammered against his ribs, so hard he feared they might break. Because of all things, Merlin knew Gaius. He knew what he was like, he knew what he was going to do. And as he was, stuck tight inside a barrel, there was nothing whatsoever that he could possibly do to stop it from happening.
“It seems to me, My Lord, that you might have something of a Guardian angel.”
“A what? Are you implying some sort of religious significance or deity?”
“Nothing of the kind, My Lord. Instead...perhaps you have gained a protector of some kind. An individual who cares, and who cared enough to send help.”
“A sorcerer.”
“Indeed. As strange as it may sound, I do believe that is the most likely case.”
There was a long moment of silence, in which Merlin could only bring up his nail to bite. It burned, already bitten down to the point of blood. He pulled his hand away immediately. Ow.
“Thank you Gaius, you have given me much to think about.”
Another scraping of the chair legs against the floor. It reverberated. Merlin could almost swear that he could feel it in his very bones, perhaps. Footsteps padded against the floor, and the door closed. Just as quietly as the first time.
Merlin soon decided that any patience he could of had was long gone, popping his head out of the barrel to stair daggers at Gaius. Who then proceeded to walk over, and give Merlin a quite unearned smack on the back of the head.
*
Merlin didn't forget about it. He just couldn't. It was like a fundamental wall that had grown in his mind. Arthur knew he had a protector. Arthur didn't care. Arthur was grateful that he was being protected, even if he didn't know that it was Merlin doing it, and perhaps would have a very different reaction if he did.
And Arthur knew that protection in the form of a light. An instinctual, magical light that had saved Arthur's life and yet had been completely and utterly unintentional. Almost laughably so, being as Merlin was dying at the time, and had almost no idea how he'd actually pulled it off to begin with. But, once he learned the spell, he could never forget it.
Merlin had always lived a life with power at his fingertips, burning lighting under his skin, and sending earthquakes through his bones. But this power was different. Because this was a power over Arthur. A type of magic that Arthur not only liked, but knew and trusted to some degree. Found comfort in.
So, perhaps it was only natural, truly, that he began to use it in the way he did. He really couldn't help it after all. Some things were just too tempting for there own good.
Such as when they got lost in the woods, just the two of them, soaked to the skin and breathing heavily. Arthur had clutched onto Merlin's arms, lashes dampened by the rain, and blinking heavily. The two had chocked and coughed and heaved through it. At one point, Merlin sunk down into the mud, and Arthur's shaking hands had to pull him out. He hardly managed, showing just how weak the pair truly where, left alone without horses, or knights, or packs in that weather.
And so Merlin knew he needed the light, to guide them both home.
He knew better than anyone that Arthur was hardly the most observant at the best of times, let alone in distress. And, after all, when one knows another loves a spell so much, what more could they do than learn to practise it without words at all?
“Merlin, look!”
Arthur pointed out to just a few feet in front of them, where a little white light was glowing. Merlin blinked at the sight of it, even knowing it was his. The sudden brightness hurt. So badly, overwhelming his eyes and his senses. But Arthur didn't seem to agree much at all.
Merlin wasn't standing on his own, leaning on the hard bend of Arthur's armour, as he pulled his way to the light, dragging Merlin along with him.
“Have you come to take us home, little light?” He distantly heard Arthur ask, and couldn't help but nod his head. Arthur didn't feel it, still staring out at the little light that began to move, leading them back to Camelot in ways only magic truly knows how.
A moment later, Merlin fell asleep. He didn't need to be fully aware for the little light anyhow.
And, of course, that little moment of magic hadn't been enough for them. For either of them, and Merlin knew it. He knew, distantly, how Arthur had reacted the first time. But after seeing it, hearing it, even from his dazed state...it was something Merlin knew he would never be able to move on from. How Arthur spoke to the light like it was something precious, special, something to cosset and protect and love.
Things that Merlin would never be able to experience with Arthur, but his magic could. His magic could love and protect and care, just like Arthur. And, now he had the chance, his magic was going to love Arthur to bits.
That being said, only some things changed. Merlin still saved his life like normal. Except this time, instead of just knocking Arthur out, he would send the light to flicker in the corner of his eye, and watch Arthur seem to light up himself with the joy of just seeing it. Sometimes when he knew Arthur was having a hard day, or had achieved something amazing, he would allow the little light to shine back at him in the mirror, or off the blade of his sword.
Just for a moment. Just for that feeling.
And even, some nights, when everything was much, much worse.
Merlin had awoken in the middle of the night, and his magic was bursting from his skin. He gasped at the feeling, only watching in amazement as his clothes wrapped themselves around him, entirely on their own. His door swung open. And a sword prodded it's handle at his hand.
It was all it took for him to take off running. And he knew exactly where he was going first.
After almost a full year of making the trip, the way to Arthur's chambers was a simple one. And nobody, even the very late night staff who worked until daybreak, didn't bat an eye to see him running through the corridors, probably breaking some curfew rule or another. The candlelight flickered across the walls, going through patches of light and dark, until his eyes blurred with tears he didn't know he was shedding.
Because his magic was burning him. And he needed to get there fast.
Especially once the sound reached his ears. Arthur. Screaming.
Merlin skidded down the final corridor.
Howling. Wailing.
Merlin knew better than to throw the door open, and perhaps it was a good thing that he did, because what he saw stopped his heart completely. Instead of the attacker's he was expecting, Arthur thrashed and screamed on his bed, clutching the sheets in hands that, even from a distance, Merlin could tell were caked in sweat.
Merlin longed to run forward, to run his hands through that blond hair, to coax Arthur back to the world of the living. To promise he was safe. But Arthur would throw him away, scream, shout, and be left alone without any of what he would need. And Merlin would also be alone.
But he couldn't watch this. But he also couldn't help.
Or, rather, perhaps there was something that could.
The spell for Arthur's light came easily to his mind, and it flowed into his bedroom like a ghost, making it's way towards Arthur's bed. Please wake him up, Merlin begged, please, somehow, make him up.
The light sat directly above Arthur in the dim room, slowly becoming brighter and brighter above his bedside, and Merlin could only watch, eyes blown wide with wonder at the sight before him.
Arthur started awake, with a harsh breath. He jerked as if to shoot out of bed, but stopped when he saw the light. Illuminated as he was, Merlin could only watch as Arthur's chest moved up and down harshly. The sheets were still clutched in his hands.
“It's you,” Arthur said eventually, staring up at his light that had moved higher above his head. Dimming slightly so Arthur would not have to squint. Or move from where he was lying down. “You've come back for me, again.” He moved to sit up, but the light lowered, forcing him to stay still. “But I'm not in danger, I don't think. I don't need to be led anywhere.”
The light flashed, brighter, dimmer. Brighter. Dimmer.
“I wish I could talk to you. The real you. I...owe you. So very much. My guardian angel. Always keeping me safe....no idea...what I did to earn this loyalty from you,” the longer Arthur spoke, the more tired his voice seemed to grow, his eyes flickering closed again. The light dimmed, staying by Arthur's bedside. Long after Merlin's own eyes had slipped shut. Shimmering ever so slightly in the moonlight, reflecting like a star in and of itself.
*
Of course, with there new...situation, it was probably only natural that some unforeseen situations might happen. Namely, Arthur becoming a little too comfortable with the new situation that he was in. Again, it started very small. Almost unnoticeable really, if Merlin wasn't who he was.
Almost a full year after the nightmare incident, after many more saves, and just as many times with the light, a servant girl approached Merlin one morning.
“Excuse me, are you Merlin? Prince Arthur's manservant Merlin?”
Merlin turned, with a bright smile on his face.
“That's me!” He tried in his best morning voice. It was, unfortunately, still far too early.
She looked left and right in a hurry, and Merlin felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. It could have been anything: abusive noble, magical practise, a manipulative witch in disguise. Merlin had, in his own mind, quite seen it all. He could only hope that it wasn't another love potion. He really wasn't in the mood for those, at only-the-gods-would-know in the morning.
“Is something the matter?” he asked after a moment, in which she said nothing.
“I'm not...sure? You see, I really wasn't trying to be nosy or nothing, but I was cleaning the corridor outside His Royal Highness Prince Arthur's bedroom and I heard some...strange noises. I wasn't trying to invade his space, but I was worried he was hurt, and so I opened the door...and...and...”
“And what?” Merlin asked, stomach in his shoes. He wished he could remember her name to reassure her, even if just a little bit. He almost wished she was willing to do the same.
“I saw him, crying. But he was talking in riddles. Something about it not coming to him this time, begging for a 'little light'? Something about an angel. I'm so sorry I was nosy, but now I'm worried he's very ill. Now I may not be very smart, but I think it might have been gibberish. You're a physician as well as his servant. You helped my little girl once. Surely you can help him too?” She sounded quite frantic, and Merlin reached forward and laid his hands on her shoulders. Mostly to calm his own heartbeat.
“I will go and check on him myself, I promise.”
That seemed good enough for her, as Merlin rushed up to Arthur's chambers to give him what he needed. Even if that wasn't him. But instead a little, round, ghostly light.
And, apparently, Arthur's guardian angel.
*
It still, didn't stop there. As ridiculous as that very thought seemed. After that morning, Merlin became more careful, laying spells all over Arthur's chambers to alert him to distress signals, to always have the light ready to go, to come to Arthur. He became just a little more vigilant in looking after his life.
Because Merlin had almost failed him.
And Arthur had, very nearly, lost all faith in his guardian light. And now he knew he would have to work twice as hard to possibly restore that trust.
And restore he did. Perhaps a little too well at that.
“Merlin you don't need to worry.”
Except for that fact that Merlin did. Very much so, he needed to be worried.
“You're going on an incredible dangerous mission alone, to retrieve an incredible dangerous, magical object. Because you're worried it's going to start possessing people. People that could very well include you.”
“Merlin I'm going to be fine.”
“You're going alone.”
“I'm doing no such thing.”
Merlin brightened at that.
“Brilliant who are you bringing with you?”
“My angel, of course.” That was the other thing that had started to happen over the previous few seasons. Arthur talking openly about his angel, his light, to Merlin. To Gwen. Sometimes to Gaius. Very occasionally to Morgana. If he was honest with himself, Merlin would say it unnerved him, being talked about without his knowledge. Being talked about to himself by someone who didn't know.
In other words, he felt awful about it. Not that he would ever be able to tell that to Arthur.
“That's not you going with someone! That's not even a person, it's a light!”
“A light that has saved my life more times than you can count!”
And, just like that, something happened that almost never did. A fight. A real fight.
“That doesn't matter! What if it doesn't show up? Or, even if it does, it's magic Arthur. What if it gets possessed, or just attacks you!”
“You have no idea what you're talking about!” Arthur roared in his face, taking steps closer and closer.
“Don't I? Do you not think that it might be a better idea to have someone come with you, even with the magic that's oh-so protective?” Merlin was shouting as well, unable to stop his voice raising to match Arthur's.
Behind them, the fire crackled loudly.
“Watch your tone when you talk to me! You can't come and that's final!”
“And why is that? Have I not proven my loyalty? Proven that I can be trusted? For years?”
They were inches apart, staring deep into each other's eyes.
“You don't have a light,” Arthur said after a moment, his voice dropping completely to hardly even a whisper. “And there's no guarantee my angel will protect you like it will me. And I couldn't...bare it if that happened.”
And, a moment later, Arthur was kissing him.
*
And Merlin did, in fact, follow him on that quest.
*
Merlin knew something had to change. Something very, very important. Because after that kiss, everything changed between them. Everything and nothing, all at the same time.
They spoke more now, Arthur bringing him to his chambers, late in the evenings. And they talked about everything imaginable. Everything except Merlin's magic. It was like a dam had burst between them, and it could no longer stop leaking: flooding even. Almost like they had to keep talking, before it drowned them both.
And Merlin was already being drowned. By the weight of his secrets.
So he tried to change things. Just as he knew he had too.
It wouldn't do for Arthur not to trust the light to protect them both, even if Merlin was the one putting himself in harm's way in order to do it.
And so, the next time they were attacked, Merlin's story was ready. It was ready when Arthur was knocked out, and he bought the monster down. When he whispered a spell for strength and picked Arthur up. He carried him, for a while. Until he found a gaping cave mouth, coated in a thick layer of moss, and surrounded by a beautiful set of trees, covering the opening even more so.
The inside had moss as well, allowing Merlin to lay Arthur down, and clamber up beside him. He took a deep breath, before resting his head on Arthur's chest, and closing his eyes.
Arthur woke him, hours later in a panic. And with a rather vicious shake of Merlin's shoulder.
“Merlin!”
“Arthur! Arthur it's alright, we're okay!” He tried, but Arthur looked panicked, looking left and right before spotting the cave mouth. At some point, it had started to patter with rain. Nothing too heavy, just enough to look out over it and wonder if the world was crying, with just a little of the sadness the world had to offer.
“What happened?” came the demand, and even blinking off his sleep, he was ready to answer it.
“The light...it came. After you fell, it...I don't know, it knocked the creature out, and then...it just turned to dust!”
“My angel?”
“No! The creature,” Merlin said, only slightly annoyed. “Anyway, then the light came over to me, and kind of...swooped us up. And it dropped us off here.”
“Did you thank it?” Arthur asked quickly, before Merlin sent him a quizzical look. “They did us a favour Merlin, we owe them so very much.”
Arthur's arms found Merlin's again, pulling him back into a long hug from behind.
“I know we do.” And it was true, Merlin owed so much to that little light. Even if it was him it was coming from. And even if it was that which was going to break their relationship apart in the end. What little of it existed, or would ever possibly exist.
Because there was no way that Arthur would be able to forgive the lies. And Merlin knew, in his shoes, he wouldn't be able to either.
*
Much to Merlin's chagrin, saving himself with the light in Merlin's eyes had quite the opposite effect. Or, well, in some senses. On one hand, Arthur certainly trusted the light more than ever, looked out for it for guidance. Lived his life more freely, And that was good, to a degree. To a very specific, safe degree that Merlin would have preferred that he stick too. Which, of course, he didn't.
Because Arthur being Arthur decided to do something even more obvious. Live his life too fully, too freely. Because Arthur had become something that Merlin never would have thought. Reckless. A word that before, he would never have dared associate with him, even when those traits appeared.
But of course Merlin they could go after the monster on their own, Arthur's angel would save them.
But of course they could greet the dubious foreign dignitaries, because the light would be their to rescue them in things went sour.
But of course they could go into dangerous terrain known for cave-ins and dangers, because Arthur's guardian had already proven it could carry them away to safety.
Because now Arthur trusted it to take care of Merlin, he seemed to loose all care for himself at all.
And it had led them to the one place they should have never even attempted to tread again. That Merlin should have warned about more clearly, finally put his foot down, before they went to the Valley of the Fallen kings.
But Arthur had been so sure. So confidently, comfortably, sure. And Merlin couldn't bring himself to disappoint him. Not again. Never again.
He should have predicted the attack, did predict the attack.
And he should have predicted Arthur turning around at just the wrong moment and seeing his eyes flash golden, the one symbol of his magical strength he had been unable to hide, unable to tune down until it was very nearly unnoticeable.
So, it was even more of a surprise when Arthur didn't react at all, and continued the fight.
The light flew around, knocking the bandits to the floor, leaving all of what Arthur had to do as running around and stabbing them as they went down. And Merlin just stood there, staring at his back and wondering what it would be like, on the pyre when they finally burned him alive.
He wondered just how bright that light would be.
*
“I understand if you have nothing to say to me,” Merlin began, legs burning heavy under him. “But you have to know, I do it for you Arthur, I always do it for you.”
Arthur stopped, and spun around, staring into Merlin's soul.
“What in Gods names are you blathering about now?”
Merlin stuttered out something that vaguely resembled some form of words, although even he couldn't be quite sure about them.
“You saw! I know you saw!”
“Saw you cast the light, of course I did.”
Merlin gulped, head hanging low, waiting for Arthur's rage to settle down upon him, burning like a flaming inferno.
“It was nice to finally see it with my own eyes. I was a little worried that it would leave from the middle of your chest or something, like your soul leaving. I'm glad it was just coming out of thin air.”
Merlin physically felt his jaw drop.
“But...I...but....”
“Ah. I see. You didn't know.”
“I didn't...how could I possibly...”
“I suspected from the very first time, of course. In that cave, I heard this voice that seem to come from the light. It was your voice, telling me to climb, to move and to climb. For a while I thought I imagined it, or that the light was using someone I trusted to get to me to do what it wanted. But overtime...I can't explain it really, it just felt like you. But I was never quite sure. Not until now.” Arthur began to walk again, slinging an arm over Merlin's limp shoulder. And Merlin followed along, at risk off falling to the ground in his shock. He almost wanted to reach back and grab Arthur by the arm, to hold himself up.
It certainly wasn't a nice feeling, at that.
“And you're....you're....okay with that?”
Arthur leaned over, placing a delicate kiss right on the side of his face. Even though they had held each other in their arms, that was the first time they had kissed since their initial one. It was brief, soft. So gentle that Merlin could almost bring himself to doubt that anything had happened in the first place, It seemed almost too likely.
Arthur's hand reached up to cup his jaw, and turned his head again. And then, he laid another kiss on the other side of his face, just as gentle as the first.
“My little light.”
He kissed Merlin on the forehead.
“My protector.”
He leaned down a little, kissing Merlin on the tip of his nose, making him laugh.
“My guardian angel.”
The third kiss came to his lips, and Merlin couldn't help but lean into it. Pressing back on Arthur as if afraid he would disappear given half the chance. That none of this was quite real at all.
But Arthur's hands were soft and gentle as they cupped his face, and even so once he drew back, staring into Merlin's eyes like there was no other place in the world he would rather look.
“Do you really think I would have been quite to willing to just trust a random sorcerer with my life, with your life? Do you think I would just follow a light no matter where it might lead, because it had taken me safely somewhere once?”
Merlin reached his hand up to cup Arthur's other cheek, and sighed into him.
It was like all of the weight of the world had fallen out of him in a single, fast moment. Imperceptible, quiet.
“And I can only hope that, perhaps, one day, you can trust me to guard you as much as I trust you to do the same. And it's going to take some time, lots of time perhaps.”
Arthur's face broke into an even brighter smile, big and wide.
And pulled Merlin in for another kiss.
This one was different, as grins had crept up on both their faces and refused to leave. Their teeth clanked against each other, making them both look quite ridiculous. But Merlin could want nothing more, even as he pulled back with a stinging face and aching teeth.
“And I'm more than willing to wait that. As long as it takes.”
And Merlin couldn't wait for anything more.