Merlin's magic (Oneshots)

The last Dragonlord 6 (Final)

A.N.:// I suppose this could have gotten much longer. But something about this chapter seemed so - final. So, I let it be. For now.

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Arthur's PoV:

Walking back to Camelot was an event in itself. Out of all the homes and nicks and crannies, women, men and children of all ages came to lurk in clear fear of the white dragon. Aithusa was a curious little thing, albeit strangely shy for a dragon as she clung to Merlin like a lifeline. Her head was pushed at all times against Merlin's hand, as if she needed the reassurance, as if somehow, the townspeople were more frightening than her own powers were to the people. Arthur supposed it had to do with the torture.
As a sign that he was here to support both sides of the equation, Arthur stood on Aithusa's left, letting her separate him and Merlin. For reasons that made him swallow around the lump in his throat, he felt the urge to join his hand to Merlin's and failed to convince himself it was for Aithusa's sake.

Merlin's daughter.

Arthur blinked ahead, bracing himself for something, yet not knowing what it was. Then and again, Merlin would look over to him and when their eyes met, Arthur would look away, only to find Merlin saddening with each glance.

Arthur wanted to reassure him, somehow, but he didn't know how. If only he could hold his hand or kiss that frown off his - Arthur took a deep breath and caught himself. Merlin being a King, being magic itself, being a dragonlord, it tugged at something in Arthur, deep inside. It was more than attraction, he was very well aware of that by now, that didn't exactly make it easier to bear. Quite the opposite in fact.

There had been a time, a rather long time, actually, when Merlin's clumsiness, his refusal or rather lack of interest in women, Merlin's insistence on staying by Arthur's side to the point he'd sometimes randomly appear toppled over Arthur in his bed, claiming he were searching for woodworm, had lead Arthur to believe Merlin held romantic and - other - affections for him. The inkling had started with Merlin's habit to steal dresses, gather flowers and be completely oblivious of Gwen's affections towards him (at the time). It had continued with long looks, hitching breaths and that strange air of deception despite barely concealed devotion around him. And it had all been supported by Merlin's random disappearances to taverns and returning late, drunk out of his mind or LIMPING, of all things. It had made sense then. In a strange way it still made sense now. But with Merlin's secrecy lifted, with Merlin no longer lying and meeting Arthur like an equal, Arthur was no longer sure.

Arthur had never believed himself capable of returning Merlin's affections with the same fervor, nor that he was deserving of it. Not when he was meant to have an heir, not when he found himself searching out women in the crowd while he sought comfort in Merlin's presence. Not with their station separating them, not with Merlin never making a sign that he expected, nor wanted, more than what they'd had. The secret hadn't just been Merlin hiding, it had been a rejection of sorts. Whenever Arthur had tried to step closer, Merlin would step back, or leave.

Somehow, in ways Arthur could not explain, things made less sense now. Merlin's previous actions were now layered with purpose. His affections no longer seemed obvious or tangible at all, and with them actually being equal, Merlin was no longer tied to Arthur's side.

Arthur found himself a fool. A self absorbed, oblivious, naive fool who had stupidly believed that what Merlin was hiding would never change a thing when revealed. They would talk and be happy as they were. It had turned out so different, so much more. And now, Arthur found himself watching the back of Merlin's head, the outlines of his profile and he felt no longer rejected, he found himself far less important and relevant in Merlin's life than he'd once been so sure of, than what he'd taken pride in.