Hold My Hand As I Hold My Breath

"Merlin. Just go to sleep."

Merlin wriggled once more against Arthur's chest, completely unable to keep still despite how absolutely exhausted he was. It was almost hot beneath the covers on Arthur's bed. He'd spent some nights there, most of them after he'd nearly died and his magic had locked him in time – 'stasis,' Gaius had called it – and, rarely, back before Arthur had known of his magic, back when they'd still been having sex.

And crap. There was another problem creeping up.

"Merlin. I have a lot to do tomorrow–" Arthur caught himself. "We. We have a lot to do tomorrow. We both need to get some sleep. So if you could stop puncturing me with your bony limbs?"

Merlin tried, for the hundredth time that night, to not puncture Arthur with his bony limbs. In fact, he went the extra mile and tried very, very hard to go to sleep. He even closed his eyes so hard spots pocked out of the black. He imagined drifting into dreamland, his body heavy and mind empty. Completely empty, because if he let any thoughts come in then he would–

Argh.

"Merlin!"

"I'm sorry!" He scrambled out from the bed, trying to kick off the covers and get away from Arthur at the same time. Arthur reached out for him, propped himself on one elbow, and managed to almost sit up by the time Merlin scrambled himself right off the edge of the bed. He hit the floor butt-first. In second place and nearly right behind his butt was his left elbow, which smacked itself at just the right angle to make that tingle of pain itch along the edge of his bones. Merlin groaned. Like he wasn't already in horrendous amounts of pain from his arm and the headache that refused to abate from his battles against Uther's assassins and Morgana – who also, it turned out, wanted to try her hand at assassinations. So just a lot of assassinations.

Arthur sighed. Merlin watched Arthur's face come into view up above him. That golden hair fell into those gorgeous eyes as Arthur decided to lie upon his bed sideways – and the very fact that it was wide enough to do that just, ugh – and propped his head upon his crossed arms. "What are you doing?"

Merlin looked around. Half of the blanket was wrapped around his legs. At least another quarter of it was draped all over the floor. He looked back up. "Um... sleeping on the floor?"

"Not with my blanket, you're not." Arthur reached out a hand to tug at the blanket curled around Merlin's ankle.

Merlin started untangling himself more gently. "I'll just go to Gaius and stay in my room, then. I can't sleep, so I should at least let you get your rest."

"You are not leaving," Arthur said, his voice just as dictatorial as usual. Merlin rolled his eyes. "And you're certainly not returning to that closet of a room. I've named you my consort. I kissed you in front of my entire kingdom." Merlin flushed horribly at the reminder of what had happened just hours earlier. He'd thought only about having Arthur back from Morgana's enchantment. At the time, exactly what it meant had been lost on him. "We are, at the very least, engaged. And as soon as possible, I plan to have us properly wed. If no church will do the ceremony, then I know of another group that might."

Merlin's brain exploded. In the messy aftermath, all he could hear, circling like some chirping bird, was the word wed. "What?"

Arthur huffed and rolled his eyes. "A king's consort can't be seen staying in the back of the physician's chambers. Really, Merlin. Stop fighting me!"

Merlin stopped fussing with the covers and crossed his arms, mimicking Arthur's previous position. "Fine! But I can't sleep; you'll just be sleepy and even more irritable if I stay."

Arthur yanked hard enough to force Merlin onto his back, still tangled in the red blankets. Merlin just barely kept from smacking his head against the floor. "This is about tomorrow, isn't it? You've already stood in front of the crowds hundreds of times. Stage fright now–"

"I was never the one they looked at!" Merlin said. "It was always you. I was just decoration. Servants never had to worry about being seen."

"You always did," Arthur said with a smirk.

Merlin just barely kept from sticking him tongue out at the prat. "Yes, thank you. But – it's different. It's... it's bad enough your people saw us – I mean, they only just got the idea of me having... having magic, and now I'm also..."

"What? I kissed you. And they've known you were my consort for quite some time, apparently." Arthur shifted a bit on the bed. Merlin didn't miss how Arthur's shifting dragged him another inch closer, bumping his legs solidly against the edge of the bed post. "None of this is new."

Merlin flushed. "It's one thing to be your consort and still be your servant. Not much changed. Yes, people asked for my help, but that wasn't anything revolutionary. I'd already had plenty of people trying to get to you through me – favors, opinions, secrets." The news made Arthur blink as if in surprise. Merlin rolled his eyes. "How could you possibly think people hadn't been trying to get to you through me? Information, opportunities. Most were just people vying for power, but some..." He shifted and shrugged again. "Well, anyway. I always had that. And others still came to me, because I'm..." he waved a hand. "Because of who I am and what I can do." He grimaced, then forced it out. "Because I have magic. They thought I would go against you, that I had a plan, or that I could be coerced to try to harm you."

Arthur's face had once more contorted into something he didn't recognize. He stared at it for a time. Slightly widened bright blue eyes, slightly furrowed brow. Lips in a frown, but the small wrinkles on his forehead showed more thought processing than Arthur in anger usually allowed. Surprise? Confusion? Anger? Worry?

Ah. Could it be? Could that actually be... shame?

Merlin sighed and plopped back, because there was no point in trying to deter Arthur in anything, even his most ridiculous emotions. "The point, Arthur, is that nothing had changed until..." He waved a hand. Shivered. "And now what? I'm supposed to... stand up there and... and..." He waved his hand a bit more... emphatically. "Be all... princely? For the first time, knowing they know that I'm only there because you... like me in bed?"

Arthur's face contorted again. This time it was easily recognizable: the face of a prat. "I would never choose you as my king consort – nor would I have led you on so – if I were only interested in sex, Merlin!"

"I know that, you dollophead!" The two shared glares for a moment. But, well, it was late, and they were tired, and it was just too much energy to do more. Merlin closed his eyes. "But the people won't. I mean, yes, I have magic, and yes, you decided to fight for me, so anyone who knows you or me or has any sense in their heads, they might see there's something more. But there are plenty who will see only that..." And he flushed just thinking about it. "I'm good in bed," he finished, because though he knew plenty of cruder ways to put it, he would need Gwaine to express them.

"Merlin." Arthur shifted again on the bed, as if he couldn't get comfortable. Well, he was leaning over the edge. "There will always be people who choose to think the worst of those in power. There will always be those who choose to think the worst of people in general. They are not who matter."

Merlin would not have expected any sort of wisdom from Arthur, despite the fact that the man had been raised to deal with these things. The words nonetheless held truth. So many people wanted to see Arthur as nothing better than his father, simply because he carried the Pendragon name. So many people chose to believe the worst in him, even with everything he'd done and everything he was doing.

He fidgeted on the floor. "And if they talk badly about you?"

Arthur eyed him. "You mean any worse than you do?"

It made Merlin laugh. "All right, all right." It took a while to untangle himself completely and get the comforter back into place, but he managed to get that done one second before Arthur grabbed him and pulled him down to the bed.

The kiss dove deeper than the one in front of the whole of the kingdom. Arthur's tongue peeked through Merlin's lips. Merlin wrapped his arms around those broad shoulders to Arthur's back. The kiss had no aim to it, despite how insistent it quickly became. Neither of them had the energy to go much farther that night. But now they twirled around one another, tangling their legs together in the sheets, their arms about one another's necks and waists, their fingers tracing along the contours of muscle and bone. Arthur's hands were so gentle as they traced along the bandages on his upper arm, as they held his head to keep it from sliding roughly against the sheets. Merlin finally broke off the kiss and gasped into Arthur's neck. He was hard, but he was sleepy, and they had, as Arthur had said, a big day starting in the early morning. He groaned.

"It's been too long," Arthur said quietly. When just before his touch had been firm and demanding, now it gentled to caress his shoulder, just above the stark white bandages. "It feels like we've had too many things happen; every time we get close..."

Merlin almost finished with, 'your dad found out and got angry.' But, well, that wouldn't do either of them any good. And Uther was dead now. Hence, perhaps, why they finally had the time.

In a horribly morbid way, it almost made Merlin giggle. Uther had worked very hard to keep his son from having a sex life.

"We'll rest tonight," Arthur said, sounding as if the words produced physical pain. Which, if Arthur was half as hard as Merlin, it probably did. "And we'll take our time tomorrow."

Merlin moaned. "That might have been possible before you said that last part."

Arthur shoved him lightly; it was still enough for him to lose his place on Arthur's chest and slide down his side. "Merlin!"

"I'll just... go take care of this," he mumbled. He moved to try to once more untangle his legs.

"Oh, no," Arthur said. With both arms, he reached out and grabbed Merlin up. "You are not taking care of your problem and then leaving me to take care of mine. I am your king."

"And I'm your king consort," Merlin said on a quick retort. Then he realized what that sounded like and flushed.

Arthur's entire body softened immediately. "Yes. You are." And he pulled Merlin in for yet another kiss, his tongue licking at Merlin's lips, entreating entrance, before delving in. A claim. A promise. Merlin leaned back on the bed and let Arthur rise above him. His cock strained against his slacks, trying to meet the tent in Arthur's own. "While I would very much prefer this to be a bit more, I am very tired. Someone's kept me up all night shoving their bony appendages into me."

"You're a knight," Merlin panted, lifting his hips to rub against Arthur and make them both groan. "You're strong enough to handle a couple of bruises, aren't you?"

"Strong enough?" Arthur spluttered. "I'll show you strong enough." He grabbed Merlin's ass and yanked him up against his groin. The fabric of their clothing chafed against the sensitive flesh, but beyond that was the feel of Arthur's hard length bobbing against his own. Merlin threw his head back.

"I wish I knew a way to spell these clothes off us!"

"I should have known," Arthur grunted. "Of course your magic is useless when it counts, Merlin." And Arthur plopped Merlin back on the bed to divest himself of his pants. Merlin did the same, much faster, because Arthur did not have any practice at all with dressing or undressing himself. Because of this, Merlin's hands were the first free, and he immediately put them to use sliding between their bodies and awkwardly grabbing Arthur's dick. He cursed and jumped. "Dammit, Merlin!" But he didn't sound angry, so Merlin fisted the long, hot length in his fingers and slid up to the head. With one thumb he rubbed at the slit. Arthur groaned and snarled as his pants got tangled in the sheets and refused to come off. Merlin laughed. "Oh? Funny, is it?" Arthur gave up on his pants and thrust up into Merlin's hand, forcing him to move his thumb aside.

Arthur used Merlin's hand as a tool, pumping out a slow, regular rhythm within Merlin's fingers. He throwing his head back as he moved, arching his neck for Merlin to reach and lick. Merlin's cock throbbed as it hung untouched in the air. Merlin huffed against the place where he licked. "For a king, you're not looking after your subject very well."

"Subject?" Arthur smirked. Merlin knew he did; he knew that tone of voice. "I only see a consort in here."

Merlin opened his hand and flicked a finger against Arthur's dick. Arthur gasped above him. When Arthur bent his back to glare down at him, he sent his king a winning smile. "Want something, my lord?"

Arthur's eyes glinted. "Oh, I want much, my consort." And he wrapped one hand around Merlin's weeping cock and tugged Merlin straight to the edge. "Will you refuse your king?"

Merlin arched up, his legs and arms spread-eagled to make access easier for Arthur. "Aren't I king consort? Doesn't that make me a king, too?"

Arthur chuckled. "There you go. Now you're getting it." He leaned down and pulled Merlin into another kiss. "You're a king. My king. Not a companion."

A king. A horrifying, heady feeling that made Merlin's head spin. That gripped his chest and made it hard to breathe again. That made his heart race for the exit. Yet here he was. Staying. Despite it all.

He looked at Arthur. For it all.

They didn't last long. All it took was rewrapping his hand around Arthur's dick and nibbling down that chest for Arthur to lose it. And all Arthur needed to do was shudder through his orgasm and continue pumping Merlin for him to come, as well. They shook against one another, and when they were done, Merlin ripped off the tangled sheet, and they fell against one another beneath the comforter. Arthur curled one arm around Merlin's back as Merlin snuggled into his chest, and within seconds, he was asleep.

"Thanks in large part to the attacks by the Lady Morgause, it appears most of the country fully supports your... relationship with..." The councilman stuttered to a halt, his eyes shifting toward Merlin. It was true that they'd known each other for almost two years; Merlin had become part of the inner circle of manservants who could, and thus would be forced to, enter these discussion rooms. He'd endured hours of standing at attention just so that Arthur could mock him for something afterward. Now, the biggest change should be Arthur sitting in Uther's seat. Instead, it was Merlin sitting where Arthur once had. Where once he'd stood apart, unimportant, his opinions unheard, now all eyes were on him. On what he would say.

"My consort," Arthur said. "They've accepted Merlin as my consort, despite my father's old laws on magic."

One man, a shorter, fatter one with a large mustache, spoke up. "Sire – Your Highness. Are you sure it's a good idea to abolish such laws? It will be seen as a coup."

"It may have, gentlemen, if not for the fact that the people chose it." Arthur steepled his fingers and leaned forward. It was his warning sign, as close to his fighting position as he got within this room. "As long as one's magic is used to help, as in to heal or to tend to crops or homes, or to entertain, and it does not harm someone, steal from them, or enchant them, it will be legal. The people have spoken."

"Sire!" A beanpole in a golden brown jacket stood. "That could greatly upset the balance of this country! Not only would it disturb the efforts of hard working people, it could lead to a repopulation from other countries – a change in work force, a veritable army of magic-users lying in wait."

Arthur sat straight and glared at the man attempting to loom over him. "Yes, it will necessitate major alterations, both in our laws and in our attitudes." He waited a long moment, until the man quailed and sat down. Then he turned to the full room. "That is why we are going to convene here every day and discuss this until we reach at least a few consensuses. And that better not take too long, because I expect to be able to give a more formal announcement of Merlin's new title before the week is out. First, the laws governing the usage of magic." Arthur turned to him. "Merlin." Merlin jumped. It was very clear that Arthur was trying to not roll his eyes. "You know more about magic than the rest of us combined. Your input will be of most use here."

Merlin shifted in his seat. "With all due respect, my lord," and he shifted again, because he wasn't certain if that was the term he should use for Arthur in public anymore, "I know very little. I... wasn't able to do much – my village knew nothing, and I hid it away all my life. I – King Uther had Gaius act as his expert on all things magic. His word would be better."

"That man hid secrets from the late king," the short, fat councilman said. "If anything, he should be tried for treason!"

Merlin's back stiffened as a few murmured their agreement.

"I will hear nothing more of this," Arthur said, his voice low. Merlin glanced at him. Arthur looked positively livid. "Gaius was a loyal friend to my father, and remains a loyal friend to me. He protected my consort while he risked his life to stay by my side. If you have any evidence that he actively attempted to harm my father or this country – and that excuse does not include protecting Merlin, which I am guilty of doing myself – I would love to hear it now. Or do you think the crime mine, as well?"

The men were suspiciously silent at that. Merlin shrunk from the looks aimed his way.

"You still believe me to be enchanted," Arthur said. "Of course you do. How could anyone love a sorcerer? They're all evil monsters. Yes?"

"Sire," the beanpole said. "We're only taking caution–"

"No. You're not. You're still showing your own biases. Twenty years ago, my father had to subdue sorcerers who took control and harmed others. But during that time, how many innocent people did he kill? How many magic users who tried to help? A man should be judged not on what he can do, but on what he does."

"But sire," one said, and this one's name was one Merlin could actually remember: Lord Thoroughby. Merlin remembered it because of how hard he'd ridden Merlin's ass when he'd first arrived. He'd thought the name suited. "Just after we learn the Lady Morgana has magic, we see her use it to attempt to destroy this kingdom. She murdered the king; her sister enslaved you. Surely you can see how this looks–"

"What I believe the country saw, Thoroughby, was Morgause and my consort battling using magic. While my sister killed my father, I watched my consort nearly die to protect him. To protect a man who, for months, had been plotting to have him killed in secret for said magic. Now, if you've had enough of attempting to insult my affianced?"

The men squirmed in their seats even more than Merlin did. His arm burned slightly from the ointment Gaius had rubbed on it before the meeting that morning. He kept himself from touching it, however, knowing how the men in the room were more likely to jump at the smell of wounded flesh than turn the other cheek. Arthur kept his gaze on his council, and Merlin just tried to keep himself from looking like the idiot everyone always took him for.

"Sire. We are voicing concerns over your sudden acceptance of magic," the fat councilman said. Merlin should probably learn the men's names. "Your defensiveness begs the question as to just what your motivations are. Is this really for the benefit of Camelot? Or is it just for the sake of one man?" The tubby man turned oily eyes on Merlin.

"I will not pretend Merlin had nothing to do with my decision," Arthur said, leaning forward just a bit more, his eyes as cold as a blade. "Of course, when I first found out, I was in a position where I had to choose a man's life over some old prejudices. I did not handle it well." Here, Arthur looked at him, his face tugging into a frown. Merlin beamed at him in response, trying to show it was all right. "I took my own confusion out on Merlin. But a life is a life, and should not be taken without evidence of harm. It was not, however, a decision I could make alone. Hence why I turned to the people."

"You should have come to us," Beanpole said, daring to nearly interrupt Arthur.

Arthur glared a warning at the man. "Why? Are you saying you're a better spokesperson for the people than their own voices?"

"The people – Camelot loves you. They want you happy. And they might think this is for the best," Beanpole started.

"Enough." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "So what you're trying to tell me is that your opinion is far more important than anyone else's."

The men cleared their throat. "You chose us for that reason," the fat man said. Arthur's lips thinned.

"Actually, my father did." He stood. The men, as one, leaned back in their seats. "Gentlemen. You are here for council. You are not the people, nor has it ever been implied that you are. You are here to give advice to your king, not to stand in for those to whom you clearly have no interest in listening. Whatever you may think about my – and their – motivations – it is your job to assist in carrying them out, not in attempting to choose for us." He turned away. "This council is adjourned, for the moment. I expect all of you to return here tomorrow with less adversarial conduct."

Merlin stumbled clumsily to his feet, apparently having forgotten what it was like to sit down, and fumbled through the beginnings of a bow before he realized he probably shouldn't. He flamed red up to his ears and hurried off after Arthur.

Arthur was already at the door by the time Merlin managed to catch up to him, only to find Arthur waiting with the door open. He flushed all over again as he remembered that they were supposed to be equals. His heart's pounding felt like wings beating against his chest. He gave Arthur a dopey smile and slid past Arthur into the corridor. It felt strange, moving past Arthur. Having him hold the door open instead of the other way around. Having Arthur at his back felt like he'd lost him entirely. He had to turn back around just to make sure it was really Arthur and not some lurking phantasm.

"So... was that for the best?" Merlin asked, biting his lip as he specifically waited for Arthur to come abreast of him before continuing down the hall. "The council is already having a hard time accepting everything that's happened. Pushing them into a corner could make things even worse."

"They're already in that corner," Arthur said, and Merlin realized Arthur wasn't just telling him to shut up or talking at him. They were really doing this. Engaging in actual conversation. As equals. His heart fluttered all over again. "This is them lashing out because of it. They know they have nowhere to go. Even if I did listen to them and attempt to repeal the new stances I've taken, the people would be up in arms all over again. They may have started this fight for my sake, but they're following it through for their own."

People bowed as they passed, as usual, and Merlin nearly ducked back from Arthur on instinct. Someone caught his eye and quickly looked back down again. Merlin shivered. "So how bad is it going to be?"

"With them? Nothing more than headaches. With Camelot?" Arthur rolled his shoulders. "The people may have chosen to accept you, and thus to accept magic, but that doesn't mean they bothered considering all of the ramifications. An upsurge of magic in their everyday lives. Druids in the capital. New laws, the changing of old ones." Arthur smoothed his hand over his cheeks and chin, a motion he took whenever he needed to assure himself that he, if nothing else, looked the part of royalty. "I doubt they considered all of this to any extent when they spoke up. To them, there was merely an injustice happening before them, one committed to the man their prince loved, a man who protected him at all costs. In order to keep them comfortable, we'll have to move slowly. I don't know how that will be taken either way."

Merlin frowned, but he nodded. Change was never easy, but especially not this. If they had merely to take some grief from Arthur's council, they would count themselves lucky.

They passed the main halls and the guards silently guarding them on either side. Arthur nodded to his men as they passed. "Some sorcerers are also probably going to see this as a trap, and might try to attack first. I have to try to keep that from happening."

"How?"

Arthur shook his head, and Merlin immediately quieted. They were alone in the hall, at least for the moment, but that didn't mean that no one was listening.

They made it back to Arthur's room. On the table sat a small plate of snacks. Merlin went over and snatched up a few pieces first, nibbling on them as he wandered over to the fireplace. It had been stoked by someone – someone he could only hope wasn't George. Wouldn't that be horrible, to have been made king consort, only to have to bear George's company?

Wouldn't it be horrible to be waited on, by anyone?

He shifted, finally swallowing the food. "Well, good to see you embracing some parts of being king," Arthur said. And he bent down to grab some food of his own.

No point in informing the man that he always stole a few bites from Arthur's food to see if any of it had been poisoned. He was fairly certain it was something king consorts weren't supposed to do. "I don't know enough magic to be able to protect Camelot's borders properly," he said. "I need to do proper research on magic. Learn more. I can only do that with the druids."

Arthur frowned. "I'm not willing to have you run too far from my side," he said. At Merlin's predictable eye roll, he said, "not just because of that, Merlin. Of course I want you by my side for my own peace of mind–"

"And body," Merlin said with a snicker.

Arthur huffed. "Yes, fine. But also because there are people still who hold grudges against you. Like the man in the dungeon who harmed you. There are others who would do far more if they could get away with it. They might see you as an usurper, or an enchanter holding me under a spell. It would be safer if you stayed in the castle, at least for now."

Merlin frowned. Arthur sat at the table, but he was far too wound up to do the same. Besides, it still felt odd to walk and sit and move with Arthur as an equal. He still only saw himself as a servant, one who also happened to be a warlock. Arthur was the king, not him. To be honest, that was how he would prefer it. But being with Arthur meant compromise, and if some sort of title was what it took to stay by his side, then so be it. "But Arthur, I need to learn. Morgana knows so much more than me. As it is, she could easily steal straight back into Camelot, her sister with her, and we wouldn't know of it until she started attacking us again."

Arthur rolled his eyes again. "Sit down, Merlin, before you trip over your scatterbrain." At Merlin's offended look, he said, "didn't you hear what I said earlier? The laws we make are going to allow many things the people may not be prepared for. Like, for instance, druids entering Camelot." At Merlin's surprised grunt, Arthur sighed. "You don't have to skulk around anymore, Merlin. You're free to practice magic in the open. And so are the druids. You can learn with them. Here."

The concept nearly made Merlin's brain scatter, just as Arthur accused. Druids? Practicing magic? Inside the castle?

He must have made some sort of noise, because Arthur was giving him a funny look. An almost inscrutable one. "You never thought this could happen, did you?"

Mutely, Merlin shook his head.

Arthur sighed. "And some people actually think you orchestrated all this." He glared up. "Sit down already!"

Merlin sat.

They ate together, Merlin shifting and squirming so much Arthur got to glaring warningly at him whenever he so much as twitched. Merlin found the communion, shared in a way it never had been before, made his mind blank with happiness. He hadn't thought he would really want any of this, and certainly not that he would care for any of the so-called perks. But sitting together with Arthur at his table, knowing he wouldn't have to jump up and move away or tend to something else – knowing he was free to stay with Arthur like this, in the castle, where anyone could see them – made everything in him jump in nervous anticipation. A part of him still listened for approaching footsteps, but the rest... the rest just melted into the moment.

They could stay like this all day if they wanted (and if they didn't have several other things to do). This meant more than even Arthur probably understood. He was equal to him. They could be together without Merlin having to slip out of the chair or the bed or the room entirely. Merlin could be a part of Arthur's life in a way he hadn't before.

Arthur cocked his head. "You're quiet. It's alarming. What's going on in that head of yours?"

Merlin only then realized he was smiling like a fool. "I can sit here."

Arthur opened his mouth, likely to say something flippant, but he stopped. After a short moment, he nodded. "It's true. This is different." A crooked smile graced those full lips. "I must admit to enjoying it."

Merlin smiled with him.

"Especially since you're being quiet for once." Merlin threw a grape at him. Arthur laughed. "There. That's more like it. Worrying again, I take it?"

"Not really," Merlin said. "Not yet. I mean, a part of me is waiting for a servant or knight to come striding down the hall, and I would have to jump up and pretend to tend the fire or something. But I know I don't have to do that anymore. It's... nice. I don't know what to do with it, but it's nice."

"You don't have to do anything with it." Arthur was already finished his plate, and Merlin realized he'd just been pushing his own food back and forth more than eating it. Arthur tilted his head. "I must admit to some difficulty of my own. Whenever I got too close to you, I would be reminded of your station, of how you were nothing more than a servant, and I couldn't allow anything more to happen between us. I thought how, while I may have called you friend if you were a noble, or even a knight like Lancelot, I could not say such to a servant." Arthur closed his eyes for a short time. They were still closed when he said, "my father once – and gods help me, saying such things about a dead man – but he crushed the morteus flower I retrieved for you, trying to teach me that servants would give their lives for me, and that – that they were dispensable."

Merlin had already known that Gwen and Arthur and Gaius had all gone through something in order to save him; he'd also known that Arthur had placed himself in horrible danger for his sake. It had made him so thankful, and so proud, and so horrified, all at once. "No life is dispensable," Merlin said. "But some are less dispensable than others. I would be happy to–"

"Don't," Arthur said harshly, opening his eyes to nearly snarl at Merlin. "You are never allowed to say that."

Merlin smiled softly. "Ordering your consort, Arthur?"

"Yes," he said, and stood, moving around the table. "I expect you to eat your share, as well, consort." When Arthur bent down for a kiss, Merlin leaned his head back to accept it. "Eat. We have to meet up with the knights. I have to induct some into the order, and they must all swear fealty to you."

Merlin's jaw dropped. "They have to what?"

"Guinevere, as well," Arthur said, "though we'll get to that later. At the announcement, preferably. That way, we don't have the entire country leaning on just us; it will make people think that, if I die, you will not be the only one in line to the throne. It will help settle the peoples' nerves somewhat, and will stop any immediate plans of assassination. Though I will not actually be giving her such status. She will be queen in name and deed, but not in succession." He sighed as he moved to the table, shifting some papers around. "I'll have to see what she wants; she will be forced into the role forever – though she already agreed to that – but after things settle, it will be made clear that she does not hold any chance to the throne after my death. It will cause upheaval no matter what, but getting people used to her in a position of power will help the transition for all of us." Arthur looked at him. "You understand, of course; while the people may at first think she has rights to the throne, I have it well documented that she actually does not. If something happens to me, you will be king."

Merlin paled. "I won't let that happen." He bit his tongue to say the next words – that Merlin would die first. The pinch around Arthur's eyes told him he'd heard it, anyway.

"Whether you want it to happen or not," Arthur said, "it's a possibility. You are next in line now. By the end of the week, you will be officially known throughout the known world as my successor. There will be many who will attempt to move on you, either for favors or for ill gain or – or worse."

Merlin smiled. "I've had countless try to kill me for allying myself with you, Arthur." That punched look of shame crossed Arthur's face again. "I'm with you. And I'm stronger than I look. And... I'm not alone anymore." He shrugged. "Whatever happens, we can face it. I won't let anything happen to you."

Arthur's eyes darkened. "You are still mine. Not just one of my people now, but mine. It is not just my duty to protect you. It is my life."

Merlin's mind blanked again. The very fact that such words actually came out of Arthur's mouth... Merlin had to take a few moments to get control over his vocal cords again. "Okay. So if we have that, then we don't have to worry about... about succession. At least not yet." Things were new enough without being told that, should the worst come to pass, Merlin would be in charge of Camelot. Of, if Arthur truly had such a destiny to fulfill, the whole of Albion.

Arthur nodded and sat at the desk. "Well, we only have a few more minutes before we have to go, so maybe you should eat?"

Merlin looked down at his tray, then back up at Arthur. He looked back down once he caught the bright flush of red on his king's cheeks.

"We convene here to speak on two issues," Arthur said, standing before his throne,. Merlin stood stiff and awkward by his side. They both wore their best, which, for Arthur, meant his usual royal garb, complete with his red cape, and for Merlin meant borrowed clothing. Though, Arthur had seen fit to give him a red cape with Camelot's insignia on it, and perhaps that was the most important detail.

Gwaine grinned from ear to ear, casting Merlin look after look, wiggling his brows and looking back and forth between them with a leer. Merlin covered his mouth to keep from laughing. Arthur caught it, of course. "Could you attempt to act like you earned this position, Sir Gwaine?"

Gwaine's brows shot up, and for an instant, his grin slipped. "What?"

"That's right. You're going to be receiving a title. If you can pretend long enough to act like a knight." Gwaine stuck his tongue out at his king in front of the full congregation of knights surrounding him. Kay and several others gave him strongly disapproving looks. Leon, who stood at the head of them all, just closed his eyes as if willing for patience. "I gave you, Percival, and Lancelot the status of knight unofficially. This time, it will be as king."

Arthur stepped forward. "Gwaine. Percival. Lancelot. Step forward."

Lancelot was the one to step forward first, his stance strong, his eyes slightly wide as he stood before even Leon and knelt to one knee. He hung his head. Percival was next, and Gwaine slunk after the both of them, winking at Merlin before he knelt. Percival, even kneeling, was head and shoulders above the other two. Standing between the two of them, they looked like some sort of step ladder. Arthur stepped down to them, his cape flowing behind him. He held out his sword. "Do you, Lancelot, swear fealty to Camelot and to her oaths of service?"

Lancelot bowed still further. "I do swear my life and service to Camelot, to her king and her people. I swear to honor and uphold her laws and traditions, and to act with honor in all things."

Merlin couldn't see for sure how Lancelot was feeling, but he could imagine. He smiled brightly for his friend as Arthur placed his sword on Lancelot's shoulder and declared him an official knight of the realm. When Lancelot stood as bade, Merlin could see the tears in his eyes. Their gazes caught long enough for Merlin to send him another grin, and for Lancelot to smile back.

Percival's voice was surprisingly quiet at first, as if he was afraid that speaking would make this moment disappear. When no one interrupted him or laughed or told him to back away, his voice grew strong. And when he stood, he held his head high, so much more than a nobody from the countryside.

When Gwaine's turn came, Merlin was ready for the man to maul the oath to an inch of its life, and perhaps make a few sex jokes on the side. Instead, his voice was smooth, fluid, as he spoke the words that bound him to the country and its people. There was no hesitation. He was serious. By the slight flinching of Arthur's shoulders, Merlin could see Arthur was just as surprised as him. But apparently, at some point in his time with them, he had come to love Camelot.

But then he stopped, just at the end of the oath, and said, "I swear to honor and uphold her laws and her love of equality for all peoples. I cannot swear honor in all things, but I do swear myself to you and yours." Gwaine looked up then, breaking another tradition. "My sword is yours, title or no."

Merlin beamed. He thought he might just race down and hug the man. Of course, that probably wasn't the way a king consort should act. And it definitely wasn't the way a servant could act.

But he wasn't the only one smiling, and finally Arthur said, "stop trying to show up your fellow knights, Sir Gwaine. And lower your head."

Gwaine grinned and did as told. For once.

When all three stood together, Merlin's heart nearly burst. His friends each stood before him, their worlds changed for the better. By Arthur. The world opened for him, in this one instant, enough for him to see exactly what kind of world Arthur would create. Gwaine had said it himself – a world of equality. Perhaps there would always be people like servants, and people like nobles. But in Arthur's world, these people would all be recognized as indispensable.

Arthur's world accepted everyone.

"And now," Arthur said. "Perhaps the more important, and more difficult, of the two reasons we are here now." Arthur turned to Merlin and held out one hand. Merlin stared at it for a second before flushing and quickly stepping forward, nearly stumbling over himself, to reach out and come to Arthur's side. Arthur pressed his lips tightly together to keep from smirking. "Merlin is my king consort, and we are to be wed."

Gwaine whooped.

Merlin grinned, only to fall solemn when everyone else just stared at them. He only kept from fidgeting because of Arthur's hand squeezing tight against his. "I understand this may be difficult for many of you. Obviously, your loyalty is to me first. But with me comes Merlin. Whether you have a problem with this because he was once a servant or because of his magic–"

Gwaine practically jumped forward, bouncing in front of Merlin and kneeling before him, taking his free hand and bending his head over it. "Merlin, I would be honored to give my life in service to you. My king," he said, looking up quickly enough to catch the half-horrified look on Merlin's face. He laughed and stood. "Hey, by the way, speaking of magic – you have to let me spar with you. Just a little bit, I won't hurt him," he said, waving away whatever Arthur might have been about to say. "I am so curious."

Someone patted Gwaine on the shoulder. Only when Gwaine turned slightly could Merlin see it was Lancelot. He smiled at Gwaine. "Could you move? You're not the only one who wants to swear fealty."

"Eh?" Merlin said. Arthur squeezed his hand a little tighter.

"Sire." Lancelot stood before him, calling him sire like it was... like it was normal. Merlin had to bite his tongue to keep from correcting him. Lancelot bowed over his hand just as Gwaine had. Unlike Gwaine, however, who had made it almost like a game, Lancelot was intent as he bent down. "I swear my fealty to you, King Merlin, consort of His Highness, King Arthur. My sword, my shield, and my life, I lay before you, upon my honor as a knight and as a man." He kissed the back of Merlin's hand, right where a ring would be if he truly were a king. Merlin nearly snatched his hand from Lancelot's grasp.

When Merlin expected Percival next, it was Leon who stood before him once Lancelot moved away. He knelt and spoke as Lancelot had, handing his fealty over to Merlin as if he'd not once seen Merlin wrapped in rotten vegetables or covered head to toe in horse dung and hay. As if he hadn't watched Merlin tripping after Arthur or acting as his personal target or wearing that stupid hat. As if he hadn't worked loyally under a king who had wanted anyone like Merlin dead. He, too, kissed Merlin's finger. It was weird. Creepy. He took a second to grip Leon's hand and smile. Leon returned it easily.

Percival was next, but immediately after him was Kay, then Leopold. Another, and then Pell. And then it was a deluge of men, each of them kneeling before Merlin and vowing their lives to him. A few stood off to the side, watching the rest with narrowed gazes. But in the end, even they moved once Ulfius moved forward and, slowly, testing his aging joints, knelt before Merlin and pledged himself. Merlin stood stiffly before the man, ready for him to attack him. And while Ulfius did not kiss his finger, he did bow his head over it until his forehead touched Merlin's knuckles.

Every single knight swore their fealty, though the last of the few did so with stiff shoulders and curt, clipped sentences. Every last knight finally bowed as one to him, their promises standing in the air around them. Arthur looked at him, a slight frown on his lips. Usually, Merlin thought, the king held his sword over his men. Didn't they? He'd seen it done with a few knights, if they managed to pass Arthur's rigorous tests. But he, of course, didn't have a sword.

He bit his lip. It could backfire horribly. But every man bowed before him, and he was supposed to be their leader. In battle, Arthur always led his men. Merlin had to show that he belonged there, as well. That he would protect them.

"If you stand for me," Merlin murmured, his voice quiet because he didn't know if he could make it go any higher, "I will stand with you and keep you safe." He took a deep breath and looked to Arthur. Then, because he couldn't let this be something Arthur chose, he turned back. "Scildaƥ!"

In dozens of flashing lights, shields burst before each knight. Most jumped and grabbed for their swords. Gwaine grinned and poked the thing before him, making some unintelligible noise when his finger pressed against something solid. His grin nearly reached his ears. Lancelot bowed lower. Leon, after a short moment, followed suit.

The rest stared, most still standing as if ready to attack at a moment's notice. It was Kay who changed this; he pulled out his sword and held it before his face, point up, then knelt and laid it down on the floor before him. A sword for a shield. Trust for trust.

It took a few seconds for those in front of Kay to catch what he'd done, but as soon as they did, all of Merlin's friends did the same, even as short trickles did behind and around him. Many did not. But they at least pulled their hands from their swords, if only to keep them from seeming as if they were about to do as Kay had done.

Merlin looked at Arthur. He was carefully studying each knight's face, categorizing which didn't pay Merlin the same respect as others, which grimaced through the show of magic before them, each who bowed only slightly now, their hands clenched in fists. Merlin was the one to squeeze Arthur's hand this time. And when Arthur turned to him, he smiled.

It was progress. From here, they would make it through.

The second meeting of Arthur's council, held first thing in the morning, came directly on the heels of the two of them staying up nearly all night, not enjoying the fruits of their labor the way they both would have preferred, but instead by writing and rewriting invitations to druid leaders for a meeting in some neutral ground of their choosing. Well, by Arthur writing and demanding Merlin stay the hell in bed and rest, which he kept trying to not do, despite the pain radiating from his arm and head. The invitations would be sent after their official announcement of Merlin's engagement to Arthur. Arthur had set up a meeting with the religious leaders Uther's great-grandfather had set up, a religious leader named a priest of a fairly new religion – one that had outlawed same sex partnerships almost two centuries ago. Merlin had no idea how that would go, but he could only suppose the answer to be 'poorly.' But Arthur had already made it clear – that religion was not his, nor was it Camelot's. And, in the end, his word as king trumped their words as priests.

Merlin was afraid it would cause tension, perhaps even an attack on Camelot. But Arthur wasn't too sure.

"They would never allow it," Arthur said on their way to the council chambers. "Uther liked them because of their stance on magic, which is about as good as their stance on same sex partnerships. But they hold little power here, and their laws are still new enough to have suspicion laced with them. The people of Albion, even those here in Camelot, where the teachings weren't spurned, follow the traditions of the old gods, whether or not they believe in them. Engaging here would mean becoming an enemy of everyone here. There aren't enough of them to present a force, and they do not allow magic." Arthur frowned at that, but it was inevitable; if Arthur faced battle, Merlin would be there, as well.

"By the time they got their warriors here, hopefully the druids will have joined us. While most of us wouldn't want to fight, we could easily shield," Merlin said. "Even alone, I could probably do it, if it's a small enough force. I... I think I would need to learn more to be able to encompass the entirety of Camelot, but it's probably possible..."

Arthur had clapped Merlin on the shoulder. "One thing at a time." And then they'd faced the council.

They at least attempted to move past the starting point of allowing magic and accepting Arthur's autonomy, but beyond that, they seemed stuck. How many to allow at once? Which actions to permit? How to control the population? The workforce? How much should they get paid? Should knights be sent out to ensure the people's protection? The druids' protection? How to do so without making it seem like a new way to capture magic-users? How to even know if something like an enchantment has been placed over someone?

Arthur had to reign them in at the end, if only to make a few laws clear. One, that all sorcerers were welcome, regardless of circumstance, so long as they were not guilty of a heinous crime such as murder or beguilement. Two, that all sorcerers would have to follow the laws of Camelot, just as non-sorcerers must. And three, that all must meet with the king and his consort to speak with him. On this, Arthur would not back down. Every single one of his councilmen wanted to register every sorcerer to enter the kingdom, but, as Merlin pointed out, this would be seen as a trap. And it was not a way to foster trust between the two of them. It was just another way to exclude them, all while pretending to accept.

Merlin stepped in a bit more after that, pointing out some of the ways magic could be used to harm – ways Arthur had likely never even thought of. Exacerbating a poison, cursing the land and water, even the people themselves. Ways that, after only a few examples, Merlin could see the light in Arthur's eyes brighten, as he realized Merlin knew them all because he'd experienced them all. As he realized Merlin had protected Arthur or Camelot from such occurrences.

The council members also wanted to impose limits on the number of sorcerers entering Camelot a day, or a fortnight, or a moon's passing. But, as Merlin pointed out, that would include registering every sorcerer. Arthur shot the motion down before it could go farther than a few murmurs of agreement.

"Enough, gentlemen," Arthur said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We'll start setting the laws in place tomorrow, and then we'll be informing the people."

"Sire!" The fat councilman called over the expanse of the table, catching Arthur as he made to stand. Arthur stared at the man in surprise. He wasn't the only one; his actions were a serious breach in etiquette. Merlin tensed.

Arthur slowly continued standing, only then bothering to tilt his head in inquiry. "Speak, Holden."

Holden. Right.

"Sire, do you not think you are moving too quickly?" he asked. "All this nons... change. You are placing this country in enough danger as it is! I cannot agree to it, let alone to your hastiness!"

Arthur's hands clenched. His lips thinned. He took a deep breath.

"Ask the people," Merlin said. Every last one of them stared at him, most with faces of contempt. Merlin raised his head. "Ask the people what they think. We came this far because of what they decided. Shouldn't they decide again?"

"Don't be foolish," Beanpole said. The way he said it – it sounded like he thought he was talking to a child. "The people have been given too much control as it is. They chose, in effect, to usurp their previous king. And while it's good they've shown their new king their loyalty, they cannot be allowed any more power. Surely you see this?" The man looked to Arthur, ignoring Merlin completely.

"No," Merlin said. He leaned forward, then stood. "The people were asked because it's their lives on the line. Their lives, their choices. Arth – your king," he said quickly, hoping desperately that no one called him on it, "recognized that truth. Laws pass not only because the people need them, but because the people want them. The people will not stand for things to return to the way they were, no matter how much anyone may wish otherwise. Listening to them does not mean caving in to their desires. It means being a good leader. The people will not follow someone they don't trust."

Someone snorted. Another, a man who barely spoke up in these meetings, rolled his eyes.

Arthur's lips pressed into perhaps the thinnest line yet. "The people either accept a law or they do not. The only thing to stop them is fear. Do you find it appropriate to make our own people fear us?"

"If it's necessary," the fat man said.

"And in what world is it necessary?" he asked, not letting the man continue. "We aren't speaking of the few who break the laws, bandits or thieves or outlaws. We're speaking of tradesmen, of mothers and fathers and farmers. Why would they need to be afraid?"

Arthur stood, then, and held his hand at Merlin's back. "We will ask the people. And you will be silent. If you're wise, you'll excuse yourself from the rest of these talks." Arthur outright scowled when the man made to protest. "You protest every step of the way. You dismiss and ridicule every word out of my consort's mouth. It seems you don't understand exactly what you're called to do in this room."

"Your consort is a servant," the man muttered, just barely loud enough for Merlin to hear, and then, "the man is a sorcerer."

It was true that one of those truths alone would have been enough to doom Merlin. But Arthur just said, "you are excused of your duties entirely, Sir Holden. You will be escorted out of the castle. If you are wise, you will also make scarce your presence in this city."

Most men in the room spoke up at that. "Sire!" And, "you can't be serious!" And, "simply for speaking against you?"

"If it were merely that he spoke foully of these new laws or of my consort, all of you would be out on the streets." And just like that, every single man was silent again. "Mocking Camelot's people, ignoring their desires and going so far as to say we should bully them into submission – what right-minded king would allow such talk in his council room?"

Merlin bit his lip from stating the obvious – that Uther had allowed just that.

Apparently, Arthur's other council members were wise enough to keep their silence, as well.

"My knights will see you escorted out," Arthur said. "By the end of next week, we will be opening Camelot's doors to those with magic. If we wait too long, the people will think we are holding off, or planning something sinister. I will not have their faith in us wane."

It felt like they were going in circles with this council. While the world moved forward, Arthur's advisers seemed stuck in a loop that included only what they wanted. Merlin wanted to shake them; how could they expect anything to change, for better or for worse, if they insisted on remaining in one place for the rest of their lives?

True to his word, Arthur had a servant grab two knights to escort Holden out of the room and, Merlin could only presume, the castle. "Now," Arthur said when they were gone, "if we could actually get some work done, please?"

The rest of the meeting had gone well, even though the pain in Merlin's shoulder had reached nearly epic proportions by the time it ended. Arthur had been right about him needing to rest. Not like he would, of course. This wasn't something Arthur should have to face on his own. And even though they still hadn't gotten to anything Merlin was necessary for, he wanted to make sure Arthur knew he wasn't facing all of this alone. Which meant he would just have to deal with the pain until he could take care of it later. It wasn't the first time he faced hiding a wound and carrying on with his day, after all, and eventually, pain faded.

Not that Arthur listened to any of that.

"In bed, Merlin. Now. I mean it."

Merlin looked out the window. The sun shone brightly through the slits between the blinds, which Arthur had done a poor job of closing. He shook his head. "It's the middle of the day. There's still work to do, and–"

"And you have a splitting headache." At Merlin's surprised look, Arthur said, "as if I never have them at the end of these meetings. But yours is right on the heels of a head injury, and I will not have you getting worse instead of better. I intend to formally announce our wedding by the end of this week. How would it look if you were on death's door then?" Merlin didn't quite know, though he was certain it could potentially be bad. Arthur didn't give him time to answer, anyway. "Lie down. Anything we have to do can wait a couple of hours."

That was something Arthur had likely never said before in the history of his life. Merlin's lips quirked. "Usually you can't wait for me to do more work, sire."

Arthur wadded up a parchment and tossed it at Merlin's head. "Shut up and go to sleep!"

Merlin laughed. "And yet you give me no incentive to do so. Where's the threats of rotten cabbage? Mucking out the stables? Scrubbing your floors? Hm. Not seeing much of a reason to follow your orders anymore, Your Highness."

Arthur very slowly turned on him, and despite himself, Merlin found himself nearly taking a step back. Not like he was afraid of anything, but that show of power Arthur usually gave was back, and he was exuding strength even more than usual. Merlin nearly scrambled toward the bed, but Arthur caught his wrist. "Oh, no. You said you needed incentive. And, my dear consort, that's what I intend to give you."

Merlin gave a high-pitched chuckle and scooted back, away from Arthur's other arm. Arthur just pulled him forward. "Uh..."

"Oh? What's the matter? Not enough incentive?"

And Arthur swooped down for a kiss.

Merlin squeaked. He also may have jumped. Arthur's lips were bruisingly hard for about one single moment, and then they turned soft, soft as butter, seeking entrance without force. Cajoling. Merlin opened willingly beneath them. He wrapped his arms tight around Arthur's neck, then, an instant later, lowered them to his shoulders, his upper arms, and squeezed. He pulled Arthur closer.

How long had it been since they'd done this? Since they'd gone all the way physically? Before Uther had found out. Weeks before, actually; things had been too busy for Arthur to have the time to risk being with his servant without worrying about being caught.

And now – now they didn't have to worry about it. Now they could just be with each other, and if anyone interrupted, it would be on them, not on Arthur or Merlin. They would merely be interrupting a king with his consort, with his betrothed. The only faux pas would be that it was daytime.

Merlin bent his head forward, licked around Arthur's gums and teeth, searching out his tongue so they could meld. His body thrummed with heat. He burned with it. Shivered in it. His fingertips traced down the lines of Arthur's collarbone to his chest, skimming along the edges of his pecs and swirling back up to his nipples. Merlin's breath caught as he stared.

"Incentive enough?" Arthur asked.

"Huh?" Merlin blinked his way back up to Arthur's face. "What? Oh." They'd been talking about something like that. "Right. Yes?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and lifted Merlin up. He squeaked. Merlin clutched at his shoulders as Arthur hefted him over to the bed. "Lose your clothes, Merlin," Arthur said, and dropped him to sit on the side of the bed while he stood before Merlin and divested himself of his own.

Oh. He really, really needed to learn how to magic clothes away. It needed to be a priority.

He hurried to do as told, his fingers tripping all over themselves as he pulled his cape off, pausing and gently folding it before placing it on the nightstand beside the bed. Then he scrambled with his shirt and pants. Arthur, having tossed his cape and shirt over the back of his dressing screen, managed to get his pants off before Merlin, somehow. Probably because, whenever Merlin moved to take off his shirt, he found himself wincing. Stupid injured arm. It wouldn't have been a problem if he hadn't pushed himself that day.

Arthur zeroed in on it, of course, and grabbed Merlin's wrist to stop him from trying again. "Allow me."

Merlin had expected Arthur to drag off his shirt and take Merlin's skin to his mouth. Instead he softly shushed the cloth down Merlin's arms, letting the sleeves catch and hold Merlin's arms fast to his sides. He dipped his head down for a kiss. Merlin leaned his head back. It was slow, suddenly. Arthur rubbed his lips against Merlin's, slid his tongue just inside Merlin's mouth and just tasted, slowly. The press of lips was the only contact between them until Arthur lifted a hand and put it against the back of Merlin's head, holding it up and tilting it at the same time, so that each tiny brush of tongue delved a little deeper. Merlin moaned.

Arthur slid his fingers down Merlin's sides, wrapped them around his hips, and slid them beneath the line of his pants. His breath left him in a rush. He looked at Merlin like he was the most important thing in Camelot. Like nothing else could possibly catch his eye.

Merlin pulled his shirt the rest of the way off, biting back his wince as it scraped over his bandages, and reached up.

It wasn't like he hadn't memorized Arthur's features long ago. First from staring, usually when Arthur wasn't looking. And then, much later, by touch. He knew Arthur's lips better than he knew his own; the full, almost pouty look of them, the soft, yielding touch of pink flesh. He knew the lines that too often pulled Arthur's lips into a frown. All of this he traced, his body trembling with the knowledge that they would come together. For the first time since Arthur knew him. Inside and out.

Arthur huffed and wiped at Merlin's eyes. "Are you crying?"

"But..." Merlin ran his hands down the sides of Arthur's jaw and shrugged. "There were some days when I thought this would never happen again."

Arthur closed his eyes. He leaned forward until his head bumped lightly against Merlin's. "I'm sorry."

Merlin shook his head. His skin rubbed against Arthur's. "No. That's never how I thought it. I just feared I'd lost my place by your side."

That wasn't quite it, either. Really, he'd just thought this closeness between them had been gone. He'd thought that, even if they did miraculously manage to make up, they would never get to this point again. And yes, Arthur had argued against such suppositions for weeks now, and had fought to change his country, and had named Merlin his consort, and had kissed him in front of all his people. And intellectually, Merlin had known that meant this would be the level of closeness they reached once more. In his head, he'd known this was a sure thing.

But it was only now, when this moment was upon him, that he knew for sure that it wasn't just words. That it wasn't just necessary for his kingdom, or his people, or something Arthur would find more an obligation than a desire. Once Arthur had said it would happen, it was a done deal. But willingly? Happily? That was something else.

It was happening. It was real.

Of course it was. How ridiculous could he be?

He drew Arthur's face down for another kiss, ignoring the bright sting of pain from his arm. Not caring that a headache was beginning to brew on the back of his head. Arthur led him backwards onto the bed, those hands working on Merlin's pants as they slid along the blankets. They stopped, lying lengthwise across the mattress, Arthur's lips teasing Merlin's own with quick advances and retreats. Arthur's hands could pull Merlin's clothes only partly down his legs before being unable to both pull them off and continue kissing. Merlin took a chance and shoved them away himself. Arthur gasped as the pants yanked themselves off. "What?" Arthur pulled back, looked down at Merlin's naked legs and the pants puddled between them, then back up at Merlin. Merlin knew full well his eyes were only just fading from gold.

He leaned up on his elbows and tried desperately to hide the pounding of his heart in his chest. "Arthur?"

Arthur looked back down at the pants. "You said you couldn't do that!"

"I can only move them. I don't have the coordination necessary to–"

Arthur launched himself on top of Merlin. Arthur's weight crashed him back down to the bed. He squeaked. "Are you telling me," Arthur said, "that you could have hurried this along from the start?"

Before Merlin could even think to answer, Arthur was at his throat, nibbling along the pulse to his collarbone. He sucked in a breath and moaned. He raised the lower half of his injured arm just enough to rest it against the back of Arthur's head. While Arthur trailed a wet line from his collarbone to his chest, he lifted his legs and spread them. Arthur nestled between them.

Merlin slid one hand down Arthur's side, as far as he could reach, even as he arched his back into Arthur's mouth. That warm tongue swirled around his nipple. He keened and gasped. "Arthur."

Arthur wrapped his lips around the puckered nub and sucked. Merlin arched right into Arthur's mouth. He clenched his hand into Arthur's hair, into his hip. Even with the quick efforts of the night before, it had still been far too long. Merlin rubbed himself against Arthur, grunting in frustration when he could only feel Arthur's chest against his groin.

"Calm down, Merlin," Arthur said, his breath playing cold against Merlin's wet skin. Merlin whimpered. "We have time."

"Says you," Merlin groused, and pulled Arthur closer. When physical strength failed him, he pulled on his magic. Arthur gasped and froze, but let Merlin pull him down.

He started slow, letting Arthur adjust to the power the man had probably never thought about like this before. He kissed Arthur's cheeks, his jaw, before carefully meeting his lips. Arthur sighed and let him in. He took the chance to reach down and cup his sac. Arthur groaned as Merlin slid his thumb between the mounds. "Fuck, Merlin." Arthur panted and leaned up, giving Merlin a little more room to work. Those bright eyes went hazy and dark, almost midnight blue as Arthur stared heavy-lidded into Merlin's gaze. Merlin lost his breath.

Arthur groaned. Those eyes slipped into slits. "Merlin," Arthur whispered. There was something in his voice that was more than just his name. Merlin tilted his head, but didn't stop playing with Arthur's balls. "Yes?" How odd to not add 'sire' to the sentence.

He was silent for a moment, but finally, Arthur gathered up his abundant courage and spoke. "I want you to take me."

The words made Merlin pause. He thought perhaps he'd misunderstood. "What?"

Arthur huffed and rolled his eyes. "Can you not hear?" But Merlin caught the trembling in his limbs.

This was something they'd never gotten to do. If anyone had ever caught them together, it could have been shameful enough. Arthur might have gotten away with it, had he said he was taking Merlin to ensure he didn't get a female servant pregnant. For Uther, if not for Arthur, that excuse would have been enough to allow their actions. But Merlin taking Arthur? There would be no way to explain that. No way but that Arthur was giving Merlin power, and acting like 'the female,' and was weak. It would never have been allowed.

Merlin sucked in a breath. But now, of course, they could. He nodded very enthusiastically. "Oh, yes. Definitely yes. Why are we talking?" He slid both hands down to Arthur's thighs. There was some awkward shuffling as they switched positions, Merlin pulling his legs together while Arthur straddled him instead. But when they were done, their dicks rubbed slightly against each other with each breath Merlin took. He watched Arthur run those hands down his chest and could hardly think for how much he loved the man. "Arthur," he said, but couldn't think enough to finish his thought. All he could see was the man above him.

Arthur rubbed against Merlin, those golden strands falling into his eyes as he pushed down on Merlin's chest and moved. The weight of him, pressing down against him, the power and control he could feel in the tight coils of muscle beneath his fingers. Something surged inside him. He tamped it down, letting Arthur take control for a moment, letting him play the hard, rough length of his dick against his own. The heat, the dryness that almost burned, brought him back from the edge. "Oil?" he asked. His throat nearly rasped. He licked his lips.

Arthur grunted. When the left, the sudden cold that flashed over Merlin made him shiver. He watched Arthur turn and reach for the top drawer of his nightstand, appreciating the ripple of sinew along his waist and back, the bunching of the muscles in his ass as he tensed it to stretch further. He couldn't help but touch it, grip the skin in his hands. Arthur hissed and fumbled with the contents of the drawer. "Merlin!"

Merlin grinned and cupped the bottom of one cheek. "Yes?"

Arthur cursed and scattered the items in his desk a bit more before finally snarling and yanking the bottle of oil. He uncorked it even as he turned back to Merlin. His fingers glistened as he poured the oil on them and slicked both his and Merlin's dicks. Together. Merlin groaned and dipped his head back. He murmured Arthur's name again as those fingers curled and pumped. It was slick and wet, the oil quickly turning hot from the heat from their erections. Arthur bent his shoulders and slid his other hand down Merlin's body, holding his weight up with his knees and thighs. Merlin felt the trembling of the muscles beneath this hand.

He reached up and took the vial of oil from Arthur, letting the liquid slick his own fingers before cupping Arthur's sac again. The man hissed above him, his hand nearly slipping off from around their members as he shuddered.

Merlin took his time, even though he felt like he was going to explode. For ever pump of Arthur's hand around his cock, he rubbed behind Arthur's sac with his fingers, around the perineum and back to the puckered hole of Arthur's entrance. Arthur's hand clenched around them before he let go and pressed his wet hand against Merlin's chest once more.

Carefully, he slipped the tiniest tip of his finger inside the tight ring of muscle. He'd never done this. They'd never gone this far. Merlin was likely the first to ever touch the inside of him. He could hardly breathe at the thought.

Tight. It was tighter than he'd been expecting, and he pulled out for a bit, not wanting to hurt. Arthur's breath was steady above him; the man was a warrior, used to endurance and discomfort. It would make it even harder for Merlin to tell if he'd gone too fast. So he grabbed more oil, slicked his finger as best he could, barely daring to warm it with his magic, afraid of burning himself. But it went fine, and Arthur shuddered at the hot liquid as Merlin rubbed the hole until his finger slipped around the soft skin. Only then did he press inside once more.

Arthur's hand slipped as Merlin pushed inside. Merlin caught him with his magic, his own finger freezing. "Arthur?"

Arthur placed his had above Merlin's shoulder, then did the same with the other. "I'm all right," Arthur said. There was a sort of breathlessness in his voice, one that made Merlin wary. Still, he let Arthur go. The mattress dipped slightly beneath the newly returned weight. His finger, so slick and wet it felt almost gross, slipped the tiniest bit more inside. The full tip of his finger was in. His stomach quivered with the sensation.

He knew, from experience, what it felt like for Arthur. The subtle intrusion, the natural need to expel the foreign object. The slight burn and ache, not necessarily horrible, but strange. And a sudden emptiness, a need to be filled. He could see it all in Arthur's eyes, even as he kept his face stoic. As if facing an enemy on the battlefield. And for Arthur, anything unknown was an enemy.

Merlin carefully pulled Arthur down and kissed him. He wanted desperately to show Arthur just how good it felt. How good all of it could feel, not just the penetrating but the being penetrated. He focused on fondling Arthur's sac, on trailing nibbling bites along Arthur's jaw and ear, on rubbing his cock against Arthur's. And slowly, in ever increasing increments, he pressed into that tight space.

At first, Arthur weathered it like one might an oncoming tide. Some inevitable, destructive event. But eventually, as Merlin got his finger in to the second digit and started wriggling, Arthur started to shiver and gasp. His blue eyes widened. His shoulders hunched. His body bucked. Merlin dared slide the finger all the way in and curl the digit. Arthur's breath hitched. He shuddered. "Oh," he breathed, and that breath was full of wonder.

Merlin beamed up at him. "It gets much better."

Arthur snorted. "Right. Well, this is you I'm counting on, so I won't get my hopes up too high, shan't I?"

Merlin wrinkled his nose. Oh, he'd show him.

He pulled out his finger and slid in two. Arthur gasped. Merlin worked his fingers around, making sure the second was wet and slick before carefully sliding them up ever further. He twisted them, then his entire wrist. Arthur jumped and groaned. When he separated them and started scissoring, Arthur whined deep in his throat. It was the sexiest thing Merlin had ever heard.

His fingers were thinner than Arthur's but slightly longer. It made him even more reluctant to hurry, despite how the muscles in Arthur's thighs and buttocks twitched. Despite how, with two fingers, he managed to find that wrinkled bump that had always made him go wild, and how touching it made Arthur jump on Merlin's thighs and shout. Merlin had to reconsider his earlier thought; Arthur's needy yell was definitely better than the whine.

Arthur's fingers clenched and unclenched in the blankets on either side of Merlin. He had felt Arthur over him several times before, but somehow it was so different like this. Even beneath Arthur, he felt such power. Stretching Arthur into readiness, pulling his fingers away and coating his sticky dick once more with oil before positioning it beneath Arthur's hole. The desire to protect him, to keep Arthur safe and happy in his arms, was almost overwhelming. He felt his magic once more bubbling beneath his skin and had to take several deep breaths. "Ready?" he asked.

In response, Arthur lowered himself onto Merlin's shaft.

Both sucked in a breath at the same time. The feeling was incredible. Painful. Heady. He gripped Arthur's hips and leaned his head back, his body demanding he thrust, his mind urging him to wait. Arthur had barely speared himself on Merlin's tip, his eyes glazed and nearly black, his full lips open as he panted.

Finally Arthur started squirming on top of him, his hips pulling from Merlin's grasp to take more of Merlin's length inside him. Merlin scrabbled for a handhold while his vision funneled to see Arthur, sunshine skin glistening, slowly sucking more of Merlin into him, those powerful thighs holding him up as he adjusted to the feel. And his face. Arthur bit his lip. His eyes shuttered closed. And with a flare of nostrils, he took Merlin almost completely, leaving only an inch. He tensed, and Merlin soothed him instinctively, knowing the preparation could never be fully enough for the awful stretch of a cock. If he'd been in more control, he might have been able to stop Arthur again, hold him suspended. But he was so busy keeping his magic dampened, he couldn't trust himself to let it go to protect Arthur properly.

He waited with bated breath for Arthur to adjust and unclench his ass and thighs. He rubbed up and down the man's legs and held himself perfectly still, until those little hiccuping pants had returned. Because after the pain came the terrible fullness, and the knowledge that they weren't moving.

Merlin slid a finger down the underside of Arthur's cock, waiting for it to remember what they were doing. What would be coming. He gritted his teeth to keep himself from ramming that last inch up into the warmth. Gods, he'd held himself under such tight control, he hadn't let himself appreciate Arthur's tight heat. But once he let himself notice it, he couldn't keep the knowledge away. "Arthur. Gods, you feel – oh, you feel incredible."

His skin sang and sparked. No matter how much he tried, his magic kept insisting it come out. But right now, at this moment, the very last thing he wanted to do was scare Arthur with his magic. The man was already vulnerable enough, in a position he'd never allowed himself before. Merlin wouldn't ruin that.

"Merlin." Arthur's voice was so tight. So deep, almost scratchy. It was right up there with the whine. "Merlin, if you don't start moving, I'm going to find a new consort."

Merlin moaned. He dared grip Arthur's hips and slowly, slowly lower the man all the way down. Arthur hissed and gulped noisily, but gave way to Merlin's cock without resistance. "As if," Merlin panted, "you could find anyone else who would put up with you."

Arthur huffed out a laugh. It made everything clench and twinge, and Merlin had to actually grind his teeth to keep still, to wait until Arthur stopped before moving again. "How dare you. My people love me."

"That's because they haven't gotten to know you," Merlin said, even as he lifted Arthur, daring to use to magic to make his muscles move. He had to stop immediately after, as his magic jumped and swirled and tried to burst free of him. "Arthur," he panted, cutting off whatever pathetic retort the man had been brewing up, "you need to do this."

"What is it?" Arthur quickly took his weight from Merlin. "Your arm?" He actually made to get off.

"No!" Merlin clutched onto Arthur again. In fact, now that Arthur mentioned it, his arm was burning like a fire. But that could wait. "No, it's not my arm. And you don't have to stop on my account." He had to get his breathing under control to continue. His magic roiled inside him, almost as if it was upset that he wasn't letting it out. He'd felt this before. He could control it.

Arthur looked at him for a long moment before he leaned down and kissed Merlin's forehead. "Let it go, Merlin. Let me feel all of you inside me."

Merlin jerked. His breath rushed out of him, and with it the thin tethers of his control. His magic surged out of him, roiling around Arthur and nearly pulsing with energy. It lit up the room like lightning. Merlin could hear it, like wind, like a storm. Like the fresh dew of a summer morning, or the baleful howling of a midnight zephyr. It didn't just wrap around Arthur this time, however. Merlin found himself pumping slowly into Arthur again. Both of them gasped at the feel of Merlin's magic soaring inside of Arthur. But even as he tried to pull back, his magic cocooned Arthur from the inside out. Merlin groaned. His magic flared so hot it almost seemed to sear him. His hips jerked without permission. He only knew he'd hit that special place inside of Arthur because the man jumped and shouted and scraped his hands through the blankets. And Merlin kept hitting that place, though he had no thought for aim.

It felt as if the very essence of his self was pouring into Arthur. As if some piece of himself, something that made him what he was, left him and burst and wound and entered Arthur. It was pure gold in his sight, almost blinding. When this had happened before, his magic had acted as an armor around Arthur. This tie, it seemed more like it was entering the man's skin, tracing paths along his veins. But it didn't hurt him. It didn't hurt either of them. It felt like the entire world was opening its eyes and waking up. Blessing them. He couldn't explain it any better.

And while he felt the world welcome them, he felt his body seize white and gold. The tight hold of Arthur's ass around his cock, the huffs of breath Arthur made whenever Merlin surged inside him, the damp locks of sunlight hair sticking to his forehead and neck – everything made Merlin's instinct to protect grow higher. His magic reacted to it, until all he could feel was the elation of the very earth as Merlin thrust up one last time and came. He cried out.

Arthur grunted and wrapped his hand around his dick, barely pumping twice before he came, as well. They both lay there, sideways on the bed, trying to get their breath back. Merlin raised one heavy arm to touch Arthur's cheek. "Are you all right?"

Arthur's breath still hadn't gone back to normal. His body shuddered, his stomach contracting like dry heaves. His ass kept clenching on Merlin's dick, making him wince as his softened shaft protested the the tight squeeze. He ignored the pain, however, and cupped Arthur's face in both hands. "Arthur?"

Oh, gods. What if he'd really hurt him? What if he'd done something irrevocable? What if his magic had–

"Holy – Merlin." Arthur blinked as if waking from a dream. "That was..." Arthur leaned back on his hips, enough for a couple of inches of Merlin's limp cock to slide out. Arthur reached up a hand and held his head.

"I'm so sorry," Merlin said, barely daring to breathe. He didn't know what he'd done. He hadn't had any control over it, no matter what he'd thought. He had no clue how to go about fixing it. If it could even be fixed.

"What?" Arthur frowned, then tilted his head. "I'm not upset, or hurt. I feel fine. No. Amazing." His king actually grinned. "It was as if I was feeling you inside me and me inside you, all at once. As if the world spun around just us." He laughed. Laughed. Arthur. Over magic being used on him. "It was even better than last time. Is that going to keep happening now?"

"I..." Merlin had no idea how to respond. He dared pull out from inside Arthur. The man winced, and pouted – gods, the man had a beautiful pout – but didn't protest. "I don't know," he answered. "I kept myself under control before – before," he said, letting the thought trail off, unwilling to get into the usual argument at the moment. "But now – it's like all my magic wants to do is protect you. Just my body isn't enough any more. It wants me to give all of me to you."

Arthur leaned down, letting his cooling spend slide against both of them as he kissed Merlin deeply. "I don't want to see you holding that back from me again."

Arthur seemed so serious, even with his face still replete from release. Merlin could only nod in acquiescence. Arthur's skin felt so soft beneath his fingers. He got to feel it as those cheeks stretched into a smile. "We've made quite a mess."

Merlin mumbled. "I'll get some cloths."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No, you will call out for a servant to get the cloths. And then you will shut the door and get back in bed, and we will discuss our next step in comfort."

Merlin flushed. Ask for a cloth? From a fellow servant? Who would know what they'd just done?

Arthur huffed. "You are such a girl."

Merlin lifted his chin. "It's weird!" he said, trying to defend himself. From the look in Arthur's eyes, it didn't work. He sighed and shuffled toward the door. Awkward. So awkward. He had been a servant, too, a single week ago. And now he was ordering them around? Wouldn't everyone think he was getting above his station?

He'd just fought off all these fears, and now here they were running around in his head all over again. And he was naked. How could he call for a servant naked? He looked down and grabbed his pants and shirt, then tried to fix his hair. He dropped his shirt in the process.

Arthur sighed. Loudly. Merlin heard the dip and spring of the mattress and turned in time to watch Arthur, completely naked, head past him to the door. He opened it and waved someone forward, keeping his ass behind the door but twisting his chest out. He murmured quietly to someone before pulling back and closing the door. He shook his head and rolled his eyes when he turned back to Merlin. "Honestly, Merlin. It's a servant's job."

Merlin flushed and looked over Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "We are officially together, Merlin. Would it not seem stranger if we didn't have sex?"

Merlin flushed harder.

Arthur made a disgusted noise and threw a cleaning brush at Merlin's head. The action made Merlin laugh as he dodged. Consort or no, it seemed at least some things might never change.

Arthur met up with the people of the new religion known as Christianity. Merlin couldn't follow, as he had agreed to work with Gwaine, Lancelot, and Percival on fighting someone with magic. So while Arthur traveled with Leopold and Kay to meet with the religious leaders, Merlin and his friends met on the side practice field, away from the other knights. That had been Lancelot's idea; he recognized how others might feel about the show of offensive magic more than even Merlin. "They will act on their old instincts," Lancelot had said. And, well, Merlin didn't want a war happening the instant Arthur left. Best to avoid any strain on the already tense relationships he had with people now.

From the start, Lancelot was the one most comfortable with it all; as soon as Merlin made a small fireball in his hand, Gwaine and Percival both froze. Lancelot was the one to initiate combat, running forward to swing his practice sword at Merlin's head. Merlin doubled back, thinking first to show how he'd managed to use his magic in secret for so long. He dropped the fireball. There wasn't much on the practice field; a bench to the side, a few practice dummies, and the knights themselves. He shifted the dirt beneath Lancelot's foot to be just a bit deeper than he expected. When he stumbled, Merlin retreated back. Gwaine grinned widely and joined the assault. Percival acted far more carefully, moving to flank Merlin. Merlin kept him busy with loose ties on his armor. The shoulder piece fell to the ground with a clang.

Gwaine got close, close enough for Merlin to see the white of his eyes. He moved fast, his arm almost a blur as he swung his sword. Merlin, on pure instinct, pushed until the sword flew from Gwaine's hands. It smacked against the outer wall of the practice grounds while Gwaine stared at his hands. Merlin dodged to the side, only to be faced with Lancelot again. "Onbregdan," he whispered, and reached out for Lancelot's sword as it flew to his hand. Lancelot recovered quickly, moving to punch Merlin, instead. He tossed the sword aside. "Scilde," he said. Lancelot's hand crashed against the shield. He hissed.

The grounds were fairly small, without affording much in the way of space and nothing in the way of cover. He was forced to retreat again as Gwaine came near, having used Lancelot's attack as distraction to retrieve his sword. Percival was scowling as he stripped off his armor entirely. "Come on, Merlin," Gwaine said, hunkering down and showing off a toothy grin. "If I go down, I don't want it to be from some embarrassing trip."

Merlin smiled. "Why? That's how most of the bandits Arthur's fought have gone down."

Gwaine guffawed. "Poor Arthur and his pride." And he attacked. Merlin. Percival came up from Merlin's other side to do the same. With no other choice, he shoved them both back. The power lanced out, more than he'd intended. Gwaine and Percival both hit opposite walls. Merlin froze. "Guys?"

Gwaine cursed loudly. Percival groaned. Merlin put his hands down. "I'm sorry," he said, backing away. Lancelot stopped reaching down for his sword and moved to Merlin's side. He reached for Merlin's shoulder. "I didn't mean to." He shrugged away from Lancelot's touch and hurried to Gwaine's side. "Gwaine? Are you all right?"

"What was that?" Gwaine asked. "Your eyes glowed, but you didn't say anything!"

Merlin grimaced. "Sometimes I don't have to?" Gwaine rubbed the back of his head. Merlin, afraid of a head injury, had him bend down further so he could look. There was a dent in Gwaine's pauldron. He thought of Percival, armorless, and blanched. "Lancelot? How's Percival?"

"He's all right," Lancelot said, and Merlin looked over his shoulder to see that Lancelot had already gone to check on his friend. "Looks like a backache, but nothing else. This wall was farther away."

Merlin closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done this until I had more control over my magic."

"No way!" Gwaine leaned forward. "I mean, I would like to be able to test you again, but that was incredible! Merlin, you pushed us both back with just a thought. No, scratch that. You didn't even think about it."

Merlin turned when he heard movement behind him; Lancelot was helping Percival stand. The man made a short grimace of pain when he stood up, but the look only flashed before it was gone. Lancelot checked Percival, then smiled over at Merlin. "You held us off for a good while with nothing but those little tricks. Have you been in that situation before, where they got too close? What did you do then?"

Merlin's lips thinned. He looked down. "It depended o whether I had a tight leash on my magic – whether I thought I might get caught. If I thought I was safe, then I'd throw them back. If I didn't, then, well, my magic wouldn't bubble up so easily. I'd usually get hit."

Gwaine made a disgusted noise and stood. "Well, don't let that happen again. Especially now that you're going to be leading this country. Your first concern should be protecting yourself."

Merlin frowned, even as panic burst in his chest. Leading the nation? His mind flashed to images of using his magic over Camelot, or of riding at the head of the battle with Arthur, his magic bursting in his hands, or of a killer in the throne room reaching for him instead of Arthur. He thought of standing and handing down laws, of people looking up to him for guidance, of meeting with diplomats. He didn't know whether to feel terrified or excited, so he got a bastard mix of both. The onslaught made it difficult to breathe.

"Thank you for the practice," Percival said. Merlin turned blankly to the man. He shrugged. "You hardly did anything, but we fell. It's good to know."

Lancelot nodded. "I already knew magic was powerful," he said. "I'm sure you're stronger than most, since you don't have to always incant, but still. It's humbling to realize how much we've relied on you."

Gwaine snorted. "Humiliating is what it is."

Merlin sat back, unsure if he should accept their attempt to make him feel better or if he should argue. He focused instead on helping Gwaine to his feet, though his friend looked like he might have been humoring him. "We should get you two to Gaius."

Gwaine rolled his eyes. "We're fine, Merlin."

"You shouldn't talk back to your king," Lancelot said, and laughed when Merlin froze. Because of that, Lancelot and Percival left the area first, Percival walking under his own strength, save for a slight limp in his right leg. Gwaine made loud objections as Merlin followed after, barely having to hold the man up, but his heart pounding, nonetheless. They received a number of stares as they made their way down the corridors. After the first few, Gwaine demanded he walk under his own power, as well. Merlin feared it was more for his sake, so people didn't fear or hate him, than Gwaine's.

They made it to Gaius' and got checked out. Gaius took a quick look at Percival and named him fine save for a sprained hip. Gwaine, on the other hand, had a bump on the back of his head that had Gaius frowning. He was ordered to stay for the next few hours. Merlin took the look Gaius gave him full on the chin.

He needed to learn how to control his magic. Until he managed that, everything else had to take a backseat.

Merlin held his breath the first day he stepped into the throne room alone.

Arthur had demanded new finery for him, satin shirts and belts with the Pendragon insignia acting as the buckle. His pants had been traded for something much softer and lighter, to the point where he half feared he wore nothing. He took a short second to check, again, that he wasn't naked. George, of all people, stood behind him. Gwaine and Lancelot stood on either side of him. Gwaine nudged his arm. Lancelot gave him a soft smile.

It gave Merlin the strength to move in front of Arthur's people – in front of his people – and stand before them. Everyone stared at him, waiting for something. He had nothing to offer them. Nothing but his magic, and that had no place here. He stood stupidly before his chair, refusing to go anywhere near Arthur's. The council, standing before Camelot's people, closest to the throne in order to hand out their council more easily during the proceedings, stared at him with wariness and resignation. Holden wasn't there, but even without him, a couple of those gazes were contemptuous, even hateful.

Merlin thought back to every time Arthur stood before his people and stood as straight as possible. There was no way he would ever have the same regal bearing as Arthur, but the least he could do was look Camelot's people in the eye. "Your king is away on business for the kingdom, and gives his apologies for being unable to hear your grievances himself. For now, I, as king consort, will hear your words, and do all I can for you."

There was likely more he should say, but he didn't know how much was too much, too forward. He wasn't even officially wed to Arthur yet. This was the most he could do.

Still, when he sat, Gwaine and Lancelot took their places before the dais, and George stood to attention behind him. And despite the looks on the faces of Arthur's councilmen, the people slowly stepped forward, one after the other, to speak with him.

His heart thrummed in his chest, but he leaned forward and gave the people every ounce of his attention.

Arthur returned a few days later. Merlin wasn't even aware of it at first; he was busy with a group of people who had come to Camelot because of a sickness in their crops, and he'd gotten the villagers put up in an inn, afraid they might be trying to gain access to the castle but unwilling to turn them away. He took what small amount of money he had and used it to pay for the villagers' suppers, and he'd been going through checking them all for injuries or illnesses themselves when Arthur, Leopold, and Kay rode through to the castle. The two men, woman, and child had just received their check-ups, during which Merlin used his magic to try to boost the health of the little girl, who looked far too thin for her growing frame, when Arthur came nearly bursting through the door. Merlin turned and blinked. "Arthur!"

The villagers all stood in a rush, nearly tripping over their boggy clothes to bow to their king. Merlin rushed to Arthur's side. He saw dirt on Arthur's cheek, in his hair, and didn't know whether to grin at the dishevelment or worry over its cause.

Arthur grabbed his arms, looked him up and down. He took a deep breath, nodded to himself, and turned to the villagers. "I've heard a little of you all already. Your crops are failing?"

One of the male villagers nodded. "Yes, Your Highness. There's a sickness of the land. The animals around our village's borders have run off. There's nothing left."

It was the story Merlin had heard before. People would usually blame magic, and really, they likely wouldn't be wrong. But it was perhaps the worst time, when Arthur was working to make the country more open to magic's use. Merlin turned to Arthur. He'd just come back from something that had obviously worn on him in some fashion, given the way he'd raced to Merlin's side.

"We'll take a look at your village as soon as possible," Arthur promised. Considering how tired and disheveled he looked, it was not something Merlin wanted him doing. He hoped he could talk Arthur out of heading out himself; he was king now, after all. "For now, please rest. We'll convene again in the courtroom at midday."

Merlin bent down to the little girl and smiled. "We'll see you again tomorrow, little Reya," he promised. The girl blinked wide brown eyes up at him. He patted her head. "Make sure you eat everything."

Those eyes widened impossibly further at the prospect of a full meal. She nodded solemnly before Merlin stood and stepped away.

The walk back to the castle was brisk; Arthur nodded to the people they passed, but said nothing as they went. The wind felt biting against Merlin's flesh, even though the night was clear and cool. The stars were luminous even behind the bright light of the fires at the street corners.

Arthur hurried Merlin into the castle and up the stairs to his – their – quarters. As soon as the door closed behind them, Arthur grabbed him by his arms and turned him back and forth. Merlin stumbled around for a bit before finally asking, "what happened?"

Arthur took a deep breath. "Nothing," he said, and smiled. His hands, however, still gripped Merlin tight. "I didn't believe it at first. But being around them – they believe very strongly in their one god," he said, pulling back and clearing his throat. He looked away. "After enough time, their conviction – well. They were wrong."

Merlin could only guess what had been said, but clearly it had been some sort of threat on him. He reached out and took hold of Arthur's belt. "Here," he said, and began undressing his king. "Let's get you in a bath. And, if there's time, me, as well."

The offer made Arthur grin widely. "Yes. That sounds best."

Merlin grinned right back.

Arthur sent Kay out with a small contingent of knights to find out what was happening in little Reya's village come the morning. He wanted to go down and meet with his knights, then hurry to the council to continue writing the laws. But after several days without Arthur by his side, Merlin had come to the conclusion that he needed to purge the last big secret from his chest. And so he woke Arthur himself, having dozed fitfully despite Arthur's return, and quietly said, "there's something I need to show you."

Thankfully, Arthur did not demand answers or argue. Instead, catching Merlin's mood, he merely nodded slightly and hurried through his breakfast.

Merlin took Arthur outside, and despite himself, he started shrinking in a little further with each step, as if, if he hunched his shoulders enough, he could just disappear and wouldn't have to deal with this next truth. Arthur had managed to forgive so much already. The lies, the manipulations. Even nearly killing Morgana, something he didn't think he could ever receive forgiveness for. Somehow, Arthur had managed it. But how could Arthur ever forgive Merlin putting his people in danger?

Arthur was silent through the whole trek from the castle to the town, and even from the town's limits to the forest. It was clear he was slightly uneasy at being outside Camelot's walls without his men. That would be a normal reaction, if Merlin weren't with him, and if they hadn't been just a few minutes' run. Still, his paranoia was instilled, and it had been for a reason. Merlin hurried his steps to get them to the clearing as quickly as possible.

Too much time had passed. He should have told Arthur about this back when he'd been purging himself of all his sins. He wondered if Arthur would hold that against him. They'd promised no more secrets. Shouldn't he have told Arthur about this then?

"Just spit it out, Merlin. Did something happen while I was away?"

Merlin looked back at Arthur at that one. The man didn't even know what they were doing. He'd been phenomenally patient, especially for him. Merlin flushed and looked down. "No. This is – this is the last big thing. The one final secret from before." Before you found out. Before we began walking this path together, side by side, instead of me following in your shadow.

He took a deep breath and waited.

Arthur sighed. "The last? You swear it?"

Merlin nodded fervently. "I honestly can't think of anything else? There's so much. I'd have to sift through a lot. But this is – this is the one I don't know you'll be able to – this is the last big one."

Arthur somehow managed to translate his rambling into something coherent, because his eyes narrowed. "More than Morgana?"

Merlin gulped and nodded.

Arthur covered his mouth and looked aside, his brows drawn very low. "Tell me from the start," he said finally, looking up. Merlin looked toward the clearing. They were only a couple of minutes away. "Don't tell me the worst first. Walk me through it."

Merlin grimaced as he realized that was what he'd been about to do – tell Arthur that he'd released the dragon from beneath Camelot and had lied about its death. So he nodded and stopped walking, turning to face Arthur fully. "The Knights of Medir happened," he said, marking the time. "I didn't know how to stop them. How to stop – I asked the dragon."

Arthur's face did something odd. Merlin wasn't certain what was going on in his head, but it seemed like a lot. "You asked the dragon."

"I didn't know," he said, and despite himself, he started talking quickly. "The first night I arrived in Camelot, I heard his voice–"

"Merlin," Arthur warned.

"And I didn't know what it was, so I followed it down to beneath the castle, and there he was, and he talked ridiculous stuff about me being your protector and us being two sides of the same coin–"

"Merlin."

"And Then when Sigan attacked, I needed a way to stop him, and the dragon would only give me the spell I needed if I promised to... to..."

"You let the dragon escape?!" Arthur snapped, and the fury in it rivaled any Arthur had shown him before.

"I kept putting it off, saying no. I didn't trust him, no matter how much I needed his help to protect you. Because I never knew what was going on, or what to do. I never received any training or knowledge–"

Arthur put up his hand, visibly attempting to reign in his temper. "That's the monster you let loose," he said. Merlin wasn't quite sure what he was talking about. "And? You obviously let him go."

"I had to. He demanded I make an oath to let him go after he helped me take care of the Knights. An oath between those of magic – if I'd tried to break it, disaster would have struck."

"Disaster did strike," Arthur said, and he lips, when he pressed them together, were thin. But for some reason, Merlin wasn't getting the same feeling of fury as he had the first few weeks after Arthur had learned of his magic. He dared continue.

"I tried to get him to promise not to harm Camelot, but he said I'd already asked for enough. I – I broke his chains with your sword."

Arthur's brow furrowed, and Merlin realized he would have to explain the sword he'd had the dragon made for Arthur. Later. Probably much later.

Arthur rubbed his face. "So you brought me out here for, what? In case my fury with your actions made me want to kill you?"

Merlin flinched. His mouth flapped a bit. "I – I didn't – are you?" He thought about that sentence structure. "Will you?"

"I don't know." Merlin stilled. "I mean, I don't know how angry I am!" Arthur said, realizing how that might have sounded. "You made an oath, a stupid one, to save my life and to save Camelot. And in so doing, you risked my life and the safety of Camelot."

Merlin closed his eyes. Well, there was a summation if ever he heard one.

"Wait," Arthur said, holding up a hand. "You say you heard it? It spoke to you? The first night you were here?"

Merlin nodded. "I heard it calling for me from the dungeon, and again from my room behind Gaius. I went to it, and it told me about the destiny we share." He shook his head at the memory, and of how he'd told the dragon just how wrong it had to be about Arthur.

"Is that how you knew so much?" Arthur asked, stepping forward. "You just kept asking the dragon?"

Merlin asked. "It was the one who spoke of destiny. And it knew so much about magic. I abused the privilege, as it was, and wore down its patience. And then I let it go, knowing it hated your father and blamed Camelot – I'm so sorry."

He wrung his hands as Arthur closed his eyes. "You say it spoke to you. What – why wouldn't it stop?"

"I asked. I begged. But he wouldn't. I guess he was too busy spitting fire from his mouth to answer?" Arthur didn't look impressed by this. Merlin cleared his throat. "He – he said later, he was so angry. But–"

"After?"

Merlin shuffled on his feet, even though he knew he shouldn't. He'd been careful to pick out one of his old servant's outfits that morning, just in case. He didn't want to wear anything that presumed or demanded – and he was certain the new shirts Arthur had commissioned for him would have done just that. They would look strange on him, anyway. He wasn't meant for any sort of finery. "That's why I brought you out here, actually. Because the great dragon is still alive."

Arthur froze.

He held up his hands. "I ordered him to stop."

Arthur snorted, but it wasn't amused. The man scoffed. "You ordered it to stop."

"I ordered him to stop hurting you, and to never return to Camelot." Merlin leaned forward. "I–"

"And why didn't you do this from the start, Merlin? Why did you allow it to attack my city, my people? When you could have just ordered it away?" Arthur's footstep, when he stamped forward, crunched into the grass.

Merlin lifted his arms helplessly. "I didn't have the ability yet. I didn't even know I could have it."

Arthur's mouth opened. Closed. The hard furrow of his brows shifted. Something in his eyes shifted, too. "You didn't know about dragonlords back then."

Merlin nodded miserably. "I found out when – when Gaius told me about dragonlords, he told me about... about my father."

Arthur tensed. Covered his face. Breathed. Everything in him slumped. "Your father was a dragonlord."

Merlin's eyes sank to the ground. "Balinor."

A breath of silence. "Gods."

The silence in the next few heartbeats between them grew vast and wide, nearly powerful in its sudden cruelty. Merlin tried to keep his gaze up, on Arthur, without letting it fall to the ground. He barely kept his shoulders from hunching as time ticked past. It was no longer the window of opportunity for either of them to continue the conversation. Now, it was only the time to wonder if the calm would burst in fire or ice.

Arthur stepped forward again. The forest was brighter now, as if the day had come awash with streaks of gold through the canopy of leaves. It turned Arthur's hair into sunlight as he moved to stand tow to tow with Merlin, his sky-blue eyes burning on him. Merlin's heart skittered in his chest.

"Merlin."Arthur raised his hand. Merlin didn't flinch. Those callused fingers rested on his cheek. "Did I meet my mother that day with Morgause?"

Oh. Merlin's hands shook. How had he managed to forget about that one?

He held his breath and nodded.

Arthur closed his eyes. His fingertips were warm stones against Merlin's skin. "All these things I know now. All these burdens. You've been carrying them for me."

Merlin had no idea how to respond. So he said nothing.

"All these secrets. Not just yours. Not just mine. Morgana's. Gaius'. Your mother's. Your father's. My father's." Arthur knelt down before Merlin, pulled his hands until Merlin had to lean over awkwardly. "Has everything in my life been a lie?"

Merlin shook his head so hard he nearly gave himself a headache. "No. Not what really matters." Arthur snorted. "Your father loved you. Your people love you. I love you." Merlin clenched Arthur's hands in his to try to hide the trembling in them. He thought Arthur might have seen it, anyway. "Everyone has their secrets, Arthur. Not all of them are meant to harm others."

Arthur snorted again and shifted away. The break of contact was like physical pain against Merlin's skin. "And my father?"

There was so much anger there. So much hurt. Merlin wondered, for an instant, if he should have kept quiet on that one, if nothing else. But he dismissed the thought. He could tell, on instinct, that if he'd kept the truth of Arthur's mother to himself, Arthur never would have forgiven him. And Arthur was right. He had the right to know. When Merlin had learned of Balinor, he'd been filled with a sense of betrayal, no matter what Gaius said about he and his mother protecting him. Arthur would be feeling the same way now. If Merlin had waited, the feeling would have been irreparable.

When Merlin took too long to answer, Arthur nodded and turned away from him, toward the clearing beyond. "All this time. His hatred of magic had just been him shifting the blame for what he himself had done. Just as I feared. And you let him." Merlin watched Arthur, ready for more anger, but his shoulders just slumped. "You, a magic user, protected him from a death that would only have helped you."

"It wouldn't have helped you," Merlin said.

"You, Merlin, are a fool." and Arthur rounded his shoulders back and looked toward the sky. Merlin made to leave, to give Arthur some time. But when he moved toward the castle, Arthur snaked out a hand and grabbed his wrist. "I wanted to know more about you. About the you who has magic." But Arthur didn't seem like he wanted to know at the moment. He seemed more like he was lost.

"I'm still me," Merlin said. "The same person I was before. Just as you would still be you without your skill with a sword, I am still me without my magic. Even though that skill is another way to define you, if you lost it, you would still be a great leader. Kind. Pragmatic. And a bit of a prat."

A ghost of a smile slid onto that face, and Merlin beamed Arthur a grin at the victory. Maybe – maybe things would be all right? "Everything I've told you, everything you've learned, doesn't change who I am. I still bumble around, trying to find out what to do and stumbling in the dark. If I were you, maybe I wouldn't have had to... to hurt Morgana, or to listen to the dragon. Maybe I could have done things differently. Found a way to keep from hurting you."

Shadows raced across Arthur's vision, but still he slid his fingers down Merlin's wrist and squeezed his hand. "No more sneaking in shadows," Arthur said, his voice hoarse. Like it was choked up. "I promise to listen to you next time. So if something happens, or you learn of something, you cannot keep it from me."

Merlin nodded. "You have no idea how much I've wanted that."

Arthur didn't say anything, just squeezed Merlin's hand again before turning away. "I take it, then, that you brought me out here to show me your skill with dragons?"

"Yes and no?" Merlin backed away, giving Arthur his space. "I brought you here to meet him." Arthur choked out a disbelieving laugh. "What happens with him, with me, is your decision, Arthur. He is the last of his kind, as I am the last of the Dragonlords. Just know that I serve you, and thus, so does he." Merlin shrugged again, not knowing what else to do. "Now. Now that I'm a Dragonlord, he does, at least."

"And, what?" Arthur asked. "You want me keep him around?"

"You are my king." Merlin dared reach out this time, carefully brushing a lock of hair from Arthur's eyes. He was gorgeous, his bearing regal even as his face told of grave indecision. "I want nothing more than for you to rule as you see fit. Because I know you'll make the right decision." At Arthur's dubious look, he said, "it's who you're destined to be."

Arthur just shook his head. "According to the dragon."

"According to ancient prophecy. And according to everything I know about you." Arthur's vision cleared slightly as he looked into Merlin's eyes. Merlin pushed every ounce of faith he felt into his stare. "You will do yourself proud, Arthur. You never allow for anything else."

Arthur sighed, and finally Merlin stepped back. After only one deep breath, Arthur nodded for them to continue. And they did.

When Arthur and Kilgharrah met, Kilgharrah bowed deeply. "Once and Future King," he said, and in that instant, with the last great dragon dipping its head to the ground before him, Arthur looked every inch the legend.