merlinarthurandensemble - Tumblr blog

merlinarthurandensemble · 9 days ago

Note

Arthur was told when he was young about the prophecy

Notes: I really worked for that word count, oml. Also, I didn't proof read, really. Also, I use dashes in my writing--i think they're dashing--and I won't ever stop. Point is, I don't use AI...ever.

Okay, that's all, enjoy <3

Arthur Pendragon grew into his paranoia like he grew into his crown. Maybe the two correlate, maybe they're symbotic. In private moments, his eyes show his stress, his back shows his strain.

He has never told anyone what his father had shared with him--that dark secret of Emrys--so many years before. The paranoia gets to him sometimes. He wonders who knows and who suspects. In truth, none of them do, but sometimes at night, delirious from dreams, he imagines they find out and look down at him as he struggles against the funeral flames.

"Does he look alive?" Someone asks.

"Does it matter anymore?" Merlin answers.

But his paranoia wanes each morning as Merlin storms in like he has something to prove.

Arthur eyes Merlin over the top of the papers he has been reading. So many times he has thought to tell Merlin--his confidant and friend--about this gravest truth; but always something has stayed his words.

He does not want to see the horror on Merlin's face. Merlin has been known to go on--to anyone, really--about Arthur's heroic destiny to unite Albion under his long, wise rule. Arthur thinks Merlin has an incredible heart for romantic stories. But what makes his stomach jolt is that Merlin--despite his penchant for embellishments--truly believes those tavern stories he tells.

If Arthur were to call him over right now, sit him down at this desk, and explain that he will never unite Albion...he doesn't think he could bear it.

Arthur knows his future like he knows his past. He has known of it for many years, since his father spoke to him quietly and with great torment about the warlock named Emrys--a dark foe.

Uther had been fastidious in his teachings of Emrys. He taught Arthur of a dark beast, a man half flesh and half moon-dust. Emrys would descend like a cloud, impossible to fight and impossible to survive. Uther's lessons went on until Arthur could recite the prophecies from memory. "Magic is the cause, and only you can cure it. Smite it from the land and do not stop until you find him--until you find Emrys. If you cannot...then he will surely kill you."

The prophecies say that Emrys will smite Arthur on a fateful day during his twenty-eighth year: the day when he is impelled to call upon the eleven kings, and begin crafting treaties.

The year has come and the day is quick behind. Arthur knows it will be soon, and every day he does not tell Merlin--does not brace his best friend for this inevitable shock--his guilt grows.

He is lying to an honest man. His only excuse is that if he has had to experience half of his death (the knowledge of it the first act of a two part play) every day since he was young, then he begrudges the duty he has as a friend to force Merlin to endure the same, expectant, torment.

He doesn't want to hear Merlin's suggestions, and he equally refuses being the one to deny them. He has already considered every escape. He could run or hide; once or twice he drafted his own terms, though he never published them, as it were.

He could refuse to bade the eleven kings to his side and rename himself King Coward.

But he knows what he will do. He will call upon the Kings when it is time: when that unknown event brands it necessary. And then, he will die.

He has searched the kingdom for Emrys many times, always with Merlin behind his shoulder, loyal. Arthur almost wishes he had the grit to tell him why they were searching. Always, their searching as been for naught.

Merlin, for his part, has never questioned it.

Arthur burns against magic the same as he burns against death. Maybe those fears are one and the same: incipient and awful...but...natural.

He wonders if this is why his father told him of his future when he was so young: to kindle his hatred of magic. If it was, it hasn't worked exactly as intended. Arthur despises magic, yes, but he despises death too, and though he was instructed to banish magic from the land, he has never been able to condemn sorcerers to death. His leniency, then, has sealed his fate, as his father had warned it would.

He fears magic like he has never feared weaponry. He has never been timid with a blade or during a battle because he knows which foe will finally find his weak underbelly. His future is bleak...It's why he likes Merlin's stories--Merlin's surety in him warms him and keeps him from daunting imaginings.

Merlin sits up from where he scrubs the floors and flops his scruffy hair out of his face. He is only taking a break: a moment to stretch his neck and gaze up instead of down.

Arthur is pulled from his considerations, "Merlin," he says, "You missed a spot."

Merlin looks over, two parts amused and one part not.

"I'm getting to it."

"If that turns out to be a lie I'll have you on dog duty for a fortnight." Arthur says.

"You won't." Merlin says, sweaty, angular, and slightly challenging.

Arthur leans forward, eyebrow raised, "Would I lie to you?"

Merlin shrugs, "No. Nor I to you, my Lord." Their eyes meet for a moment and it feels odd. Then, Merlin is back to scrubbing and Arthur drops his eyes once more to his papers.

Merlin has noticed Arthur's declining good-humor recently, and Arthur can only be grateful that Merlin has not followed his example. Sometimes there is a weightedness to his step when he thinks Arthur can't see him, but he has been keeping cheerful otherwise.

Merlin doesn't complain anymore, not even to pass the time. It's as though he can sense something is coming. Arthur glances up, quick as anything, and back down. Merlin's sleeves are rolled up, his forearms are soapy, and his nose is too close to the flooring. His too-long hair drags every now and again as he scrubs viciously.

Arthur is all Merlin has. He cannot imagine how betrayed Merlin would feel if Arthur told him. Arthur's resolve hardens. He won't say a word, he couldn't bear if it called their friendship into question even for a moment.

He swallows. He has never cried for himself, but oddly, he thinks that, moments before he sends word for the kings, he will cry for Merlin.

Even as the sun descends behind him, he wonders how many more sunsets he will have the chance to miss while fruitlessly etching out plans for a future that will never be.

#merlin x arthur #bbc merlin #story #merlin fandom #because i need more merlin in my life #Ig you get to decide if the prophecy Uther told him was a lie or not.

22 notes · View notes