Merthur One-shots

Let Me Hold You Close (Please Don't Let Me Go)

Summary: The execution of a magic user in Camelot makes Merlin want to curl up in himself and cry. Lucky for him, Arthur won’t just stand by and watch that happen to him.

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Arthur woke up with a shock. Next to him, Merlin moved a little, but didn’t wake. The prince took some time to study him; he looked so peaceful, surrounded by Arthur’s bedsheets and his head almost disappearing in the soft pillow. After a little while, Arthur sat up in bed, trying to determine what had woken him up. It was still dark outside and everything was quiet and peaceful. After a few more minutes of nothing, he decided to let it go and sank back down on the bed. He scooted over closer to Merlin and wrapped his arms around his warlock. With his face buried in Merlin’s neck, he fell back asleep.

The next time he woke up, sunlight was pouring into the room. He forced his eyes open against the light and saw Merlin standing next to the window, looking down at the courtyard.

Right.

Arthur suddenly realized what had woken him that night. The execution. That was today. He sat up and glanced at Merlin. The man was still looking outside, his face scrunched up in thought. Arthur got out of the bed and walked over to Merlin. He wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed his lips in the crook of his neck. Merlin startled at his touch.

“Oh! You’re awake. I, um- We should- You, um-” Arthur cut off Merlin’s stumbling by turning him around and wrapping him in a proper hug. He didn’t say anything as Merlin buried his face in his chest, trembling slightly. He felt Merlin’s hand cling on the back of his nightshirt and squeezed a little tighter. When Merlin finally pulled back, Arthur wiped the tear off his cheek.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, cariad. Let’s have breakfast, shall we?” he said softly, holding Merlin’s face with both hands. Merlin nodded faintly and took a deep breath.

“First, you need to dress. You can’t have breakfast like that.”

Arthur decided not to argue while Merlin stepped back and gathered himself. The warlock walked over to the closet and pulled out Arthur’s clothes for the day. His touches didn’t linger as they usually did while dressing Arthur. He was clearly distracted, but Arthur didn’t say anything about it. He knew fully well there was nothing he could say that would make this easier.

Not for the first time those past few days, Arthur wished there was another option. But with Uther still on the throne, there was absolutely nothing he could do. He had been dreading this moment for several days.

It was the first burning in a while. It had been just long enough since the last one to ignite the little spark of hope in Arthur’s chest. The little spark that told him things would be different, things would change. That he wouldn’t have to wait for his own father to die until the laws could change.

This case proved that spark wrong. Uther hadn’t even hesitated when the woman was brought in. She’d been caught using magic in the Lower Town by some guards that happened to walk by. Uther had already sentenced her to death before the guards were even done speaking, but Arthur had managed to get a trial for the woman. Unfortunately, it hadn’t done any good; the king hadn’t changed his mind, even when the guards explained the woman had been tending to her child.

Her child. Arthur involuntarily shivered when he thought about it. The woman had used a spell to heal her child. Her girl had been playing in the streets, and she’d scraped her knee. All the woman had done was stop the bleeding and close the wound. That was all. But the guards had arrested her on the spot and Uther hadn’t seen reason; Arthur would never understand how one man could be so blind, so close minded. He loved his father dearly, but that didn’t mean he agreed with everything the man did.