Merthur One-shots

The Winter Of The Betrayal

Summary: Keeping their relationship a secret was hard, but necessary. With Morgana's next attack and the next betrayal looming over their heads, they don't have a choice. At least they had each other, and Merlin's magic.

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Merlin’s hands twitched relentlessly, desperately wanting to slip his hand through Arthur's. To provide some sort of comfort, no matter how minimal. His heart ached to be close to him but he knew he couldn’t do it outside the privacy of their rooms.

It all began a month ago, after Gwen’s banishment.

He loved Arthur. How can he not? He’s loved him for what feels like forever. Always pining from afar, always protecting from afar. And as long as Arthur’s happy, Merlin’s happy. And Arthur was not happy after Gwen’s false betrayal. Merlin knew that Morgana had a hand in it, raising the shade and tricking them, but Merlin didn’t know how to prove it.

He never expected to be kissed. He certainly never expected to share the night with him. Neither of them was drunk. But it happened, and Merlin couldn’t change it.

The morning after was the worst. Merlin just couldn’t, wouldn’t bear it. He tried to slip out without noticing but of course, Arthur noticed. One thing led to another, and the next thing he knew, he was screaming his deepest, darkest secret out, laying it out for Arthur.

It felt freeing; baring his heart out, revealing his magic. He’ll either be accepted or killed. The worst Arthur could do was banish him. There were no secrets between them, no lies, no betrayals. Just the plain, hard truth. It felt amazing, like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders. He could finally breathe.

Merlin never anticipated the second worst thing Arthur could do; give him the cold shoulder. Merlin knew he was hurt, knew he felt betrayed. But Arthur had done nothing. Just walked out of the room, and didn’t return until later that night. Merlin pretended that nothing had happened between them, putting last night and this morning behind them.

Arthur played along. There were no jokes, no insults, no banter. Merlin treated Arthur like his master and Arthur treated Merlin like his servant.

But there were things Merlin wanted to tell Arthur. He could finally explain that Gwen wasn’t wrong, that it had all been Morgana. He could explain that Lancelot wasn’t who he was, that he was a shade. That neither of them had been their true selves, Lancelot acting under Morgana’s will and Gwen under an enchantment.

And he did. But at the wrong time. The only time when being around Arthur was easy was in public, surrounded by others. Arthur did not ignore Merlin when they were out in public, enforcing the fact that everything was alright. So when they were out on a hunt, Merlin took the opportunity to explain in hushed voices. Arthur didn’t take it well.

It dissolved into a shouting match, where the Knights had to distance them so they wouldn't rip off their heads. Arthur just wouldn’t listen. Or he did, but he didn’t want to accept it. But it wasn’t Gwen’s fault, and to be fair, Merlin missed his closest friend.

Arthur dragged Merlin to his chambers that day, barely restarting himself from punching Merlin. But Merlin didn’t care. He explained how he knew Lancelot wasn't alive- how Lance acted like he knew nothing about Merlin’s magic.

Arthur of course picked up on the fact that Lancelot knew before him, and proceeded to express every ounce of disappointment. Merlin yelled, saying that of course, he’d just reveal his magic to the son of the man that would have him dead by morning. Arthur yelled back, saying that maybe he should. Have Merlin dead by morning, that is.