Alright. After watching episode 4x03 again I decided to explore it even more. What happened after Arthur saw his father dead and Merlin entered the the room?...Here is my take. Bromance and some Arwen!

Angstiness follows me everywhere! Ahh! * runs in circles* This is really angsty, but Oh well...I mean, what else could it be?

The title is based on the " Is a New Day" quote from 4x03

Summary: The Once and Future King, stronger than many, courageous as a lion, was as vulnerable as a newborn sheep that night...As the dawn broke and the light of a new day chased away the shadows, he was a silent guardian...because Arthur was not alone. He had Merlin.

I tried to walk together
But the night was growing dark
Thought you were beside me
But I reached and you were gone
Sometimes I hear you calling
From some lost and distant shore
I hear you crying softly for the way it was before

- Red " Hymn for the Missing"

.

"Loyalty binds me"

King Richard III

First Light

He followed Arthur, like he always did.

When his friend walked out of Uther's chambers with quick and unaltered pace, shoulders slumped and hands closed in tight fists, his eyes followed him. They followed him, like two stars meant to guide in the middle of the darkened road that was now opening in front of the shaken prince.

But Arthur didn't notice for he was already gone. Already gone away from Merlin's grasp, from where he could still feel a minimal level of comfort and safety. As soon as he left that room, Merlin's eyes nailed on his back, soft and yet full of concern….

…He was lost.

So he wondered, like a small, naive child, around the castle. His steps were minimal, quick and almost unnoticeable as he went through the corridors, like a spirit, pale as a ghost, silent as a grave. His mind guided him to a place he hadn't seen since his childhood years, a place that he had called sanctuary for its perfect spot, for its function and its value. He truly felt safe, like a bird in a nest, when he reached the small, narrow space that had given him comfort during his younger years, when he felt life was demanding too much of him, when the pressure of being a prince and his love for his people drove him to the verge of collapse. It was in that same place that he had cried his remorse after killing all those innocent druids…

Like the rest of the world that night, the big indentation in the stone was cold. It was dark. The darkness, though, was comforting. It was welcoming…it was almost…

No. There was no comfort in those familiar stones. No silence that could erase his father's last gasps.

No nothing.

Oh, but there was something…the fact that the murderer still lived, the sorcerer, the animal that had killed his father still lived. He couldn't let that slide out of his mind. He couldn't accept the fact that his father was gone and the sorcerer was alive. He felt a need to go and find him, to burn him, to make him feel the minimal of all the pain and horror he was experiencing…

But his hands shook, his whole frame shook, and the tears that he had kept inside, hidden in his golden heart, started to fall. One by one they reached the cold stone floor. One by one, the finished mining the strict auto control. And Arthur Pendragon slid to the floor, hands clasped tightly to his face, droplets of salty water escaping through his strong fingers. He sobbed, soft, unaltered sounds of sorrow, of a son without a father. Of an orphan…far too young and far too scarred by his past.

With the last strand of sanity leaving his head he let out a strangled scream, the loss and pain exploding inside him, enveloping him in sorrow and denial, making his fingers shake with fury, marking his veins, which expanded while the splitting sound of pain left his throat.

He was dimly aware of hearing the word "No" at a fairly high volume…

Time passed. And he wept. Hands on his face, Arthur Pendragon cried tears for one of the two men who were worth it.

.

.

.

It was as silent as a dove's flight when a pair of slender hands slid through his face, touching his cheeks, murmuring his name softly. He averted his gaze, pained and tortured, to find Guinevere's, full of tears and love…

"…Guinevere"

She made a soft comprehensive sound, like a mother with her ailing child as she wiped away the track of tears on his cheeks. Her hands were like soft whispers of comfort, even when her lips were sealed in an odd grim, which looked wrong on her beautiful face. But if he noticed, Arthur didn't say a thing. He just leaned into her hand, closed his eyes and choked another sob.

Her hands, never more perfect, took in all the despair. Her palms rubbed away the betraying marks of salty water that slid down his handsome face; her lips placed a soft and heartfelt kiss on his forehead.

"Come on, Arthur…" she said "Let's go to your chambers…"

She supported his weight as they walked. The Once and Future King, stronger than many, courageous as a lion, was as vulnerable as a newborn sheep that night. Guinevere noticed it, and even if her heart felt like if it was tore apart she relinquished her precious prince, when they reached the wooden doors of the chambers, to far more capable and gentle hands than hers…

Arthur noticed Gwen's hands slide away from his arms, her lips murmuring a heartbreaking "I'm so sorry" into his ear as she brushed a strand of his hair. But he didn't utter a word of goodbye.

He noticed that Gwen's steadying hands were immediately replaced by two stronger and paler ones, who held him up right now. His gaze flickered upwards, to where a pair of blue eyes, the stars he was meant to follow, looked down at him with profound softness and understanding…

Merlin looked down at him. And for once, Arthur didn't care if he was a servant, he didn't care if Merlin's eyes were glimmering with his own tears…

He didn't mind because Merlin was there, with him, making his night far more bearable. Merlin was there…and it didn't matter where he came from or what were those strange signs of remorse in his face.

Merlin, his friend, was there.

"Shush…Arthur…."

Merlin made small hushing sounds under his breath as he let his friend lean on him, guiding Arthur to a nearby chair by a cracking, lively fire. The fire danced briskly, as if laughing at Arthur's deep despair. Its flames went higher and higher, the red hues casting shades upon Merlin's sharp bone cheeks and making his teary eyes flicker with golden light…

A shudder went through the prince's suffering body when he remembered the decision he had made…

Merlin's hands were gone for a moment…- far too long- …and Arthur found himself missing their familiar, calming touch. He titled his head towards the side, the first small movement he had managed since Guinevere's name had been forced out of his lips, and saw that Merlin was taking a wool blanket from his cupboard, putting in swiftly over his prince's muscular shoulders. Once again, the rebellious sobs tore from his throat, and he tried to subdue them, if just for Merlin's sake…

The Once and Future King, stronger than many, courageous as a lion, was as vulnerable as a newborn sheep that night.

But Merlin was there, as it was supposed to be. He was there, kneeling by his now King's side, taking the large cold hands in his own warm ones and trying to think of words that could heal Arthur's heart, as well as half of his own.

None came. The guilt ridden mind of the warlock was dead with despair, dark with swirling emotions, precipitating into a void of hollowness. He opened his mouth and closed it softly again, opting to look at Arthur in the eyes and trying to pass on the message.

I understand…

It wasn't supposed to be this way. His own words, the prophecy that he had so eagerly made to save the man breaking in front of him, came back to haunt him.

I will make Arthur King!

Ah! If he could take those words back and bury them deep into his heart so that Arthur could be whole again! If he could, he would've given his life to Nimueh, not once, not twice, but till infinity, just to see Arthur smile and tease him, even if he had to watch over him from a the veil of death.

Arthur let out a sigh, and the sound shattered Merlin's heart. It was as if he was painfully being torn apart, piece by piece, limb by limb, his magic, his being and his soul…and Arthur, his heart and will. The first collision of many.

Those light blue eyes sought his and the prince's gaze seemed to make a hole in his secrets. He let out another heavy sigh, chest expanding strongly, before muttering another name

"Merlin…"

The soft whisper that answered him was all he needed "I know Arthur"

And he broke.

Tears fell, unbounded, from his eyes; sobs came, unrestrained, from his throat. He was human, if only, for a few hours… he was human and not a prince. Not a king. Just Arthur…And he who was by his side was not Emrys, not the most powerful warlock, not the last dragon lord. He was just Merlin, blue-eyed and compassionate.

He was Arthur's friend, Arthur's hope in his dark hour, his shield, his sword, the hand that held him up.

And that was enough.

Kneeling in front of the man he had sworn his life to, Merlin wrapped his arms around the shaking shoulders, cold and strong, stony…but yet so fragile too. Arthur was like delicate porcelain, even the slightest brush could leave him broken.

That was a risk Merlin was not willing to take.

He felt a swell of emotion, deep within his chest, the desire to let it all run free, to stop the world and cry out all his secrets, to pour out his heart to his friend, his mission, his everything. For a moment, he actually let the words form in his head, his lips parted, warm, adrenaline-filled breathing coming from his palpitating chest. Arthur I'm a-

But as the words were beginning to be carried away with a gust of wind, Arthur's mouth opened and he let out a cry before slamming his fists on the table. Jumping away from his friend at the sudden violence, Merlin's own lips closed, the secret that they guarded forever sealed beneath them again.

"He killed my father, Merlin" Arthur said despairingly, voice hitching with unshed tears and agony. The tension never abandoned him. He was strained "He killed him. After he-after he promised…"

Another heartbreaking sound came from Arthur and once again Merlin felt his own heart cry out in unison. He took a deep breath as he steadied himself against the chair, knuckles white over the polished wood. Arthur didn't notice his friend's paleness, or the fact that more silent tears were running down his cheeks, for his head was already on his hands, tousled blond hair gripped madly by shaking tanned fingers. The reality of the situation struck the former prince again, the guilt, the despair, the loneliness…moreover, the responsibility of a kingdom on his shoulders.

"I killed him…I killed my own father…."

His muttering were responded by Merlin's warm touch on his upper arms, his friend's voice, deep with sorrow, was dripping with sympathy and warmth as he let out a recoiled gasp "Oh, Gods, Arthur…no…don't ever think that. You are not to blame" Because I am

"Oh, I am Merlin" he answered, voice dead, face white. He did not want to be consoled. He wanted to feel the pain, to suffer, to bend and break. Because he deserved it…because his trust in an evil being had granted that dark community of magic their wish…his father, Uther Pendragon, was dead.

He shivered and cried silently as he continued, because he owed Merlin the truth. At least he could know...

He related how the sorcerer had asked for his race to be freed, how he wanted a freer world for magic. He told Merlin, voice dripping with bitterness, how he had promised to change the reality of all magic users, how he had hoped and relied in the man...how he had trusted him.

Tears slid silently through Merlin's cheeks as Arthur choked out the events. Tears of remorse and rage, tears of anger and frustration. Tears of sorrow...for Arthur.

Standing silently, as a chiseled guardian angel, Merlin waited for Arthur to finish those stabs he was making at his heart. He managed a comforting phrase as Arthur slid back into choked sobs and his own hands, pale over Arthur's skin, became soft companionship for his broken friend. He placed one palm on the golden crown, willing with all his might to make Arthur feel nothing, to erase the pain from his mind...

He willed for his magic to take away Arthur's bitterness and sorrow and place it in his soul. More than anything, he wanted Arthur's pain to be his, and his own guilt to disappear...

Magic was not Arthur's savior this time.

This time it was Merlin.

It was Merlin who sat with him through that slow, painful night, It was Merlin who patted his arm, let Arthur's head drop into his shoulder, heavy from exhaustion and shock, and let him cry there. It was Merlin who acted as a guardian and knight through the darkness, dismissing every single person who came to inquire about the prince's well being.

It was Merlin who noted peacefully that the first light of dawn was breaking and said softly into the golden strands of matted hair

"Is a new day"

Arthur shook his head in despair, ignoring the warmness the new sun...The Once and Future King, stronger than many, courageous as a lion, was as vulnerable as a newborn sheep that night...

"They say the darkest hour is just before the dawn..." he said quietly " there is no dawn now, Merlin"

No dawn, no light...No sun. No new day.

Merlin didn't reply to his words but instead took a moment to look out of the window before his hands were gone and the warmness was replaced by coldness once more. He strode away purposefully, followed by Arthur's gaze, who didn't made any movement to keep him close. He just watched the retreating form of his manservant through the hallways.

.

.

.

.

Merlin returned a few minutes after.

Arthur knew, just by the look on his eyes, that there was something his friend was not telling him. Something deeply rooted into Merlin's being that seemed to tear him apart, but that he stubbornly refused to let show...much.

His gaze locked with Arthur's once more as he closed the door softly. He let out a breath.

"I am so sorry..."

Arthur made no movement. He had stared into space like this, no thought but sadness, since Merlin had left. He just looked blankly at his friend's face.

Merlin seemed to be struggling with the words, his face pale and shaken, hands bending and twisting, eyes breaking.

" I...I shou..." he let out a careful sigh and then looked straight into Arthur's eyes again " I wish there was something I could've done"

Silence.

Arthur wondered why did Merlin felt like if he could've done anything. There was nothing at all any of them could've done. Except that sorcerer...

And the guilt struck again, like tentacles that just wouldn't let go of his heart.

"Merlin...no one but me is to blame for this" he repeated, voice cracking, dead.

Merlin was almost fierce when he said " You are not to blame!" and then, gentler, softer " this isn't your fault"

"I'm entirely to blame...my father spent twenty years fighting magic...to think I knew better..."

He didn't register the way Merlin flinched at the words, his eyes big, his heart pleading for Arthur to stop that train of thought...

Because he couldn't bare it...

But his friend went on, heart breaking again as the words left his lips "I was so arrogant...that arrogance caused my father his life"

Merlin swallowed the growing lump in his dry throat. Moisture building up in his eyes, heaviness setting in...

"You were only doing what you thought was right" he said softly, trying to keep the fragility from showing. But it was hard. "I'm sure the old sorcerer meant no harm, perhaps the spell went wrong...Uther was dying...maybe nothing could've saved him"

And Arthur's answer, quick and sharp as a knife, cut the last strand of hope he was holding on to.

"We'll never know..."

and then...

"all I know for sure is that I've lost both my parents to magic..."

It was Merlin who heard first his newly made mind. Ah, it had to be Merlin...he had all of Arthur's trust.

The words slid from his tongue with inhuman effort.

"it is...pure evil...I'll never lose sight of that again"

.

.

.

.

His father was cold. Silent. So utterly still.

He didn't look peaceful, though.

He looked troubled, his brow was creased, his lips were grim...His eyes...they were haunted...

The reality struck then, once more.

He was gone. and Arthur was alone.

Alone only because of a decision he had made, because he let his heart rule above his head, because he trusted a damn sorcerer...

Alone.

Forever.

.

.

.

...Light touched him.

The dawn Merlin was talking about a few hours ago reached him, taking dancing hues from the silent room. He looked at the sky, blue and beautiful, and then looked back down at the still face of his father.

Leaning over, he planted a kiss on the cold brow, hoping to say with it everything that was unsaid between them. No son had ever loved his father as much as Arthur Pendragon loved Uther during that silent night.

"I promise to make you proud father..." he murmured gently " I promise..."

It was a promise he was intending to keep for the rest of his life, even if it meant he'd have to hunt for sorcerers on other lands.

.

.

.

.

As he opened the doors carefully, all the while noting the soft light that bathed the room, Arthur's heart fluttered when he saw the unmoving figure of his manservant, resting quietly against the stone wall.

For a moment he wondered if Merlin had fallen asleep. After all, he had stayed up all night comforting him, and only an idiot like him would follow...

But he was grateful nonetheless. Grateful for this clumsy idiot that seemed to test heaven and earth for him, for Arthur.

"Merlin" he called softly.

Merlin's head turned towards him and Arthur noticed that Merlin's eyes were red-rimmed, his normally light blue orbs heavy with a sadness he could not name. He had been right then, Merlin had stayed the night, guarding the lingering ghost of Arthur's breath as he mourned inside the throne room. Another, any other servant, would've been respectful and humble, but Merlin was stubborn and strong. Even if, at that moment, it didn't seem like that at all to Arthur...

He wondered why on earth had Merlin been crying when he had nothing to cry for...

Oh.

Oh.

The simple truth struck him then, with the force of a dagger trusted into his heart. Merlin was crying for him, he was empathizing with Arthur's own pain. That generous heart had found in him to mourn the loss of his friend, even when Uther had been ruthless...

He felt he needed something, anything, to tell his dear friend it was alright. They would get through this, together, as they always did.

"It's a new day"

the familiar words struck a chord in Merlin's eyes, who immediately seemed to get hazy with clear tears. He glanced around to the sun, already high in the sky, and the reflection of the gold light in Merlin's blue eyes tugged a vague memory in Arthur...

But then Merlin was looking at him again, those innocent and yet wise eyes waiting for his friend's, King's, next words.

Arthur never looked away as he stated what he already knew " You've been here all night?"

Merlin nodded imperceptibly, and then said, simply and truthfully " I didn't want you to feel you were alone"

The way he said those words, as if they were spoken from the deepest spot of his heart, seemed to stir something inside Arthur. He shifted uncomfortably for a moment, his heart thumping strongly against his ribcage as he let the simple words wash him like a wave. His eyes locked with Merlin's, and it was as if a silent agreement had passed between them, as if a wall had suddenly been lifted and everything was again as it should be.

The next words felt so right against his tongue that he let them go, with a warmness and fondness his heart felt and intended.

"You are a loyal friend Merlin"

And in the light flashing from Merlin's eyes he saw the devotion and pride that nothing could wash away. Not matter how many times he slipped, or showed his fear and weakness, they were always there. Merlin's eyes, his gaze and kindness, taking him through every day and night.

He turned around slowly and locked the door behind him. The rays of light seemed to stay on his skin even after they had been shushed by the door.

"You must be hungry" he said casually, trying to prove to Merlin that he was, indeed, alright.

Thanks to you, old friend.

Merlin almost smiled, and a certain bitterness remained on his lips before he let out one simple word

"Starving"

"Me too" he answered, his gaze remaining on Merlin's, looking deeply into those eyes that had never given up on him. Silence stretched between them, but neither of them said anything...

"Come on" Arthur said finally as he started walking towards the staircase " You're going to make us some breakfast"

And as always, with a half smile on his pale lips, Merlin climbed after him.

Because he still followed Arthur...as he always did.