Work Text:
Please stand by the shore
I will be, I will be there once more
The smooth, rolling waves betrayed none of the battle that had been fought. The ship cut through the sparkling water, only a slight breeze ruffling Arthur’s hair where he stood at the bough, arms crossed to hide the tremor in his hands. Behind him, the crew were patching up both the ship and themselves. Ahead, the water stretched until it met the sky.
“Better wash up, cap.” A wet rag smacked into his face and Arthur wrestled it from Gwaine’s hand.
“Not the captain,” Arthur said and held the rag up to his face, giving Gwaine a questioning look.
Gwaine motioned to the side of his own face. “Left.” He rolled his eyes as Arthur began scrubbing. “Other left, you daft prick.”
“What way is that to speak to your captain?”
“Oh, so now he admits it, eh?” Gwaine yanked a knife out from the floorboards. “Huh. Not bad, I guess.” He turned it from side to side and the sun bounced off the blade. “What did he say?”
Arthur glanced over at the crew, a few of which were too close for them to have a particularly private conversation. “Not here. Captain’s rooms in five.”
“Well, I never did agree to be the captain’s whore, but if you insist.”
“Just shut up and bloody do what I ask for once,” Arthur said and pushed him forwards. Gwaine stumbled down the deck, grinning over his shoulder for a second before he fell into easy conversation with Percy and Leon.
For a few more minutes Arthur turned back and stared out into the distance. Part of him found it unnerving to know that land was so far away. Others loved the sight of the endless horizon: limitless opportunities. Arthur never had seen it quite like that. Today, the horizon seemed even more foreboding, even as the sea lay calm and welcoming ahead.
The rag was stained pink from blood that wasn’t his. He curled his hand around it and walked with sure steps towards Leon.
“Just keep her steady,” he said, clapping Leon on the shoulder as he looked up.
“Aye, captain.”
Arthur turned away and dropped the rag into a nearby bucket of water. He stepped across the deck, avoiding all conversation, as he headed for the captain’s rooms and descended the stairs quickly. Down by the galley he saw Merlin for a split second, almost so briefly he might have imagined it, and his brows furrowed. He stopped by the opening for a moment, almost calling out his name. Inside, Gaius was cooking the evening’s meal and he looked up to meet Arthur’s eyes, eyebrows raised. Arthur broke contact quickly and continued down the stairs.
The room was weirdly empty. The desk in the middle was left as it always was, charts spread out across the surface. Arthur ran his fingers across the wood, over the charts, pressing a fingertip to the compass. He looked out the window and then at the large, blue chair his father usually occupied. Pushing away from the desk, he moved instead to the small sofa at the side of the room where he always sat.
He jumped when Gwaine slammed the door on his way in, striding into the room with a confidence that never seemed to waver.
“If you’re not using it, I will.”
Arthur’s protests fell on deaf ears as Gwaine threw himself down into the captain’s chair, feet slung up on the side of the desk.
“You take a lot of liberties.”
“I’m best mates with the captain.” Gwaine grinned.
“That’s one way to describe it, I guess,” Arthur said, and Gwaine’s grin just widened. Arthur didn’t know if he’d call their odd relationship that, exactly. It was a tangled web of friendship, trust, rivalry and annoyance. But sure: best mates.
“So what’d the old man say?”
Arthur shrugged. “Bunch of vague gibberish.”
“So, no explanation? Just, leaving you to it. Sailing off to crash at some bordello for a week?”
“No, it was related to Cenred’s men.” They’d been ambushed. It still made him flush with shame. Being ambushed by Cenred’s ship, of all ships. Those useless tossers. They’d chased them off easily enough, but still. “Something Cenred said. He was vague about it. That, and most of the rest. He’s going somewhere, to check on something, because of whatever Cenred said.”
“Not suspicious at all, then.”
They shared a look.
“Said he wanted to give me the opportunity to be captain. Show my worth.”
Gwaine snorted. “You’ve already shown you’re worth ten of him.”
“You’re biased,” Arthur said, shifting uncomfortably.
“Humility doesn’t suit you, princess.”
Sighing, Arthur swung his feet up on the sofa, stretching out with his arm under his head. “Being the captain’s son, I know plenty about. Not sure how much he’s taught me about actually captaining the crew.”
“You’ll figure it out. How hard can it be? They already like you, so you’re not gonna have a mutinous set of shitheels on your hands.”
“I could. Some of them will sense a weakness with father being gone.”
“The others will keep them in line.”
Arthur stayed quiet, peering up at the wooden ceiling. The smooth rolls of the ship calmed him. “He said--” He bit his lip.
“What?”
“Something about Merlin.”
“Merlin?” Gwaine seemed taken aback and Arthur found a sick pleasure in that. Gwaine always had all the answers, always prepared for everything.
“He told me not to give Merlin anything he asked for, no matter how small.”
Silence stretched.
“What?” Gwaine said. “What could Merlin possibly want that’s so important to Uther?”
Arthur lay in silence for a moment, his heart slowly picking up. “I don’t know.”
*
“What are you staring at?” Merlin asked, smiling. He was out of breath from dancing to the sea shanty Owain always started a round of. The one that had about 87 verses.
“Some fool.”
In truth, watching Merlin dance when he’d had a few ales was always fascinating. His movements were a little sloppy with the drink, but he always moved in an oddly graceful way.
“Impossible. There are no mirrors around,” Merlin said, leaning too close.
He was warm against Arthur’s side and Arthur breathed in the scent of fresh air after a rainfall that always clung to him.
“You’re unbelievably funny.” Arthur’s voice was low, and he knew it was only a matter of time before someone looked up and found them looking at each other, bodies leaning close.
Sneaking a glance around the galley to make sure everyone was occupied with Gwaine’s attempt to do a handstand, Merlin slipped his hand into Arthur’s and pulled him up the stairs. Outside, the stars were bright above and the moon reflected on the water. It was a hot night and the bay they’d anchored in was quiet except for the slight breeze that rustled the leaves. Merlin lead him away from stairs, finding the spot they knew was most hidden from view.
Merlin leaned into him, arm around his back. Looking out at the bay, Arthur put an arm around his shoulder and tried to ignore the uncomfortable beat of his pulse. Once, he’d told himself it was only physical. Merlin was attractive and Arthur had always been fascinated by him, even when he was first brought on when they were both teenagers. They were friends, and there was nothing wrong with friends sneaking off to let off steam from time to time. Not that Arthur would ever tell his father—he wasn’t stupid—but in secret, it was fine. It happened all the time. Gwaine and Percy. Gwaine and, well, several people.
Pulling Merlin closer, Arthur wrapped his arms around him, pressing their cheeks together. Warm lips brushed his skin and he closed his eyes, smiling without meaning to. The smell of rain enveloped him in the cloudless night. His thumb brushed softly over a spot on Merlin’s back as he buried his face into the crook of his shoulder.
Some pirate captain he was, smiling like a sap into his man’s neck, just holding him under the bright moon.
His father would be so disappointed in him.
“Hey,” Merlin said, and Arthur felt it as much as he heard it. “Kiss me?”
Arthur tried to wipe the smile from his face before he pulled back, but judging by Merlin’s answering smile he hadn’t succeeded. “You don’t usually ask.”
“I thought I’d try to be polite about it. Just today.”
“Well, I might. If I feel like it.”
Rolling his eyes, Merlin kissed him and Arthur laughed into it, tightening his arms around Merlin’s back. Downstairs, the crew was singing, the faint tones of another shanty drifting up to them. Arthur, when it came down to it, wasn’t much for bounty, treasure and sword fights, but the late nights with the crew singing, dancing and drinking—that was what he held close. The sounds of the crew getting along, of the sea calmly hitting shore as they anchored up. The feeling of Merlin’s pliant mouth under his.
He pressed Merlin against the railing, lips on the back of his neck and a hand around his cock. Merlin gripped the railing with both hands, soft moans disappearing into the breeze. Sometimes, Arthur felt like he was stealing something precious, something that wasn’t truly his. But other times, it felt like this was how things were supposed to be.
*
The wind wasn’t on their side. The weather was calm—much the way Arthur preferred it on a personal level, but for the sake of sailing it was slow. It made some of the crew restless, but Leon was as unflappable as ever. He stood at the wheel squinting against the high sun, his skin burnt pink. Gwaine was organising sword fighting duels on deck, mostly to keep the restless entertained, and Arthur was grateful even when it resulted in cuts and bruises (to the body and to the ego).
Arthur was on the upper deck looking over the charts. It didn’t much matter since Uther had already charted out their course to the nearest port, but it felt weird not to. He was supposed to be captain, after all. It felt more and more like his father hadn’t actually trusted him with anything, though. The course was set, the skies were blue and whatever secrets his father was chasing hadn’t been relayed to him.
Sighing, he dropped the chart onto the deck and stared out onto the calm water. Among the bustle below, he noticed Merlin by himself in a quiet corner. Arthur’s lips quirked into a smile that faltered the longer he looked at Merlin.
He was staring out across the sea, all the usual life gone from his face. There was a sadness to the slope of his shoulders and a faraway look about him, like his mind was anywhere but on the ship. It was everything Merlin never usually was: distant, sombre, lifeless. Arthur rested his finger against his lips, thumb under his chin, and stared and thought of his father’s parting words.
*
Once the wind picked up, they had ground to cover if they wanted to reach Port Mercia within reasonable time, and Arthur’s days became busier. Merlin was difficult to get a hold of, as their paths never seemed to cross. Whenever Arthur did catch a glimpse of him, he seemed himself.
Nevertheless, Arthur had even stopped by the galley to talk to Gaius.
“I think Merlin is just fine, Captain. Should he not be?” Gaius had said, but something about his smile made Arthur nervous.
Another couple of days passed before Arthur finally cornered him in the cargo hold. Merlin’s eyes went wide when Arthur pushed the door closed, leaving them with nothing but a lantern casting an orange glow. The air was stuffy.
“If you wanted to mess around, you could just ask, you know.” Merlin winked.
Arthur sat down on one of the crates. “That’s not why I’m here.” He paused. “Are you alright, Merlin?”
Merlin gave him a weird look. “Of course I am.”
“Then why did I see you staring out at the water like you were thinking of jumping in?”
“What? I like to look at the water when I’m thinking.” Merlin’s voice rose. “Besides, I’m on a ship. What am I supposed to be looking at?”
Above them, heavy footsteps strode across the floor. Someone was yelling on deck. Arthur felt more uneasy than ever.
“Merlin.” He was embarrassed by the softness in his voice. “Do you trust me?”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Of course, you prick.”
“So, will you tell me the truth?”
His pulse picked up when Merlin began to look like a cornered animal, remaining in complete silence.
Arthur’s voice broke when he said, “Why did my father ask me not to give you anything you asked for?”
Merlin looked away, crossing his arms tightly over his torso. His lips moved as if he wanted to speak, but couldn’t make up his mind. Overcome, he hid his face in his hands.
“Merlin?”
Shaking his head, Merlin looked up again, his expression tortured in a way that confirmed all of Arthur’s fears. He had no idea what was going on, but it was something. Arthur watched as Merlin opened his mouth but not a sound came out. Merlin’s hand came up to rest at his own throat. The muscles in his throat worked, his jaw clenched and unclenched, but he remained completely quiet except for a strained groan.
“Merlin,” Arthur said insistently, and darted forward to grip Merlin by the shoulders. “Stop.”
Merlin looked at him, frustration written all over his face. His hand rested on Arthur’s chest before he pulled the collar of his shirt down and leaned in. He pressed a kiss to the spot at the base of Arthur’s throat—to his scar in the shape of a perfect circle. The air smell like wet forest and a familiar rush moved through Arthur like waves cresting. It was easier to breathe.
Before Arthur could react, Merlin slipped out of the cargo hold, leaving him to steady himself against the wall.
Merlin’s casual touch to his scar had always made him feel this way, but he’d just added it to the number of confusing things Merlin made him feel. It was only now he realised that this was something else entirely.
*
There were countless books in his father’s room that he’d never read. All of them were currently spread out over the desk. It was well past midnight and Arthur had no intention of sleeping. He’d been here for two days flipping through every book in his father’s library, even though he knew it was a long shot. Why would his father keep any books about anything he never spoke of? That was too risky. Still, what other options did Arthur really have?
“I’m going to burn those books,” Gwaine said and Arthur jumped, hissing as one of the pages cut into his thumb.
He sucked the pad of his thumb into his mouth and glared at Gwaine.
“I need them.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what the bloody hell is going on?”
“I can’t. I don’t actually know what’s going on.” Arthur motioned at the open books.
Gwaine shook his head. “Whatever it is, do you really think you’re going to find it in there?”
Shrugging, Arthur slammed a book shut and pushed the heel of his hand to the scar. It had been itching. “Should I just give up, then?”
“It’s about what Uther said, right?”
“Of course it is.”
“There’s never a secret not shared by someone on a ship. You just need to figure out who knows.”
Arthur snorted. “Believe it or not, there are things people don’t know about.”
Gwaine grinned. “Princess, you know that’s not true.” When Arthur stared at him, Gwaine waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
For fuck’s sake.
“You can’t possibly have thought no one knew, you lads’ve been as subtle as a tap-dancing elephant.”
“Why don’t you just shut the fuck up.”
Gwaine laughed loudly and flipped his hair out of his face. “Love you too, cap.”
*
Gaius’ shoulders drooped the moment Arthur found him in the galley. He put both hands on the workbench and steadied himself, face serious as he looked up.
“Captain.”
Arthur tried to hide his shaking hands. He’d avoided going to Gaius, in part because he hoped Gaius didn’t know. Gaius had always been there, like an uncle of sorts to both him and Merlin, and the idea that Gaius had known all this time that something was wrong and never told him made his chest twist.
It was obvious by the defeat on Gaius’ face that he knew. He knew.
Arthur pulled his shirt down at the neck, exposing his scar.
“As captain,” Arthur said, voice quivering. “I order you to tell me what you know.”
In that moment, Gaius looked old. Weary. Tired. Defiant. His gaze just held Arthur’s.
Arthur closed his eyes. “As your friend, I beg you.”
The ship rolled under them. The sea had turned rough overnight. Overhead, the crew was working to keep the ship steady. If the weather didn’t get too bad, they’d reach port in a couple of days.
“Your mother,” Gaius said, sitting down heavily onto a stool, “was an Undine.”
Arthur just stared at him.
“She was an elemental being of water. Her relationship with your father granted her an eternal human soul, but her life shortened.”
Arthur’s fingers whitened around the hem of his shirt. “She can’t have been. She died giving birth to me.”
“Not long after. She did get to know you, and to love you very much.”
“But why would… why would father…?”
Gaius looked at him, expression gentle. “Don’t misunderstand. Your father loved your mother dearly. He never knew her life would be so short because of their union.” He gestured at Arthur. “Your scar is not a scar, it is a watermark. It responds to water and elements made of water.”
There were legends, obviously. There were always legends at sea, about sirens and mermaids and selkies. Ghost ships. Sea creatures that shouldn’t exist. Arthur had never truly believed in them, but ever since his father had left the ship, he’d had a feeling. An uneasy feeling that something wasn’t right.
The horrible thing was that it made sense. His scar had always responded to water, and to Merlin most of all.
As if Gaius had read his mind, he said, “It’s not my place to say.”
“We hit Port Mercia in two days, and father will probably never leave the ship again until the day his corpse floats away.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
Rage built in his chest. All the lies about his mother, all the years his father had hid this from him like he didn’t deserve to know.
“Please let me fix whatever it is. I don’t care what the consequences are. Everything feels wrong.”
Gaius held his gaze for a moment before shifting to something behind him and Arthur turned to find Merlin looking pale and drawn. Again, his throat flexed as if to speak and nothing but a frustrated groan escaped. He motioned with his hands and Gaius shook his head in return, eyebrows drawn in worry.
“Please,” Merlin croaked, barely there.
Gaius looked heaven-ward, as if asking for strength. “Merlin is a water spirit.”
Life above deck went on as if nothing had happened. As if the world hadn’t just been turned on its head.
“Uther has bound him to the ship. As long as he is bound to the ship, it means luck. It means narrow escapes and bountiful treasures.” Gaius’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Merlin gives his elemental life to the ship and the water recognises it as one of its own. Uther will never let him go.”
Merlin had shown up when they were both teenagers. He’d called the ship home almost as long as Arthur had. Every memory Arthur had of his father, of the ship, of the two of them shifted in the briefest of moments. His father was a monster. The ship was Merlin’s prison. The two of them? He didn’t know what they were.
Arthur propped himself up against the nearest wall. Merlin’s eyes never left him.
“How do I fix it?” He croaked, his throat suspiciously tight.
“Arthur—“
“How do I fix it?” Arthur yelled.
“I can’t promise you that you’ll be safe, even if you are his son.”
“I don’t care,” Arthur said, and Merlin shook his head vigorously. “Merlin, I can’t just let this go.”
“The ship will no longer be protected,” Gaius said and nodded towards the deck above them.
“Like every other ship in the world. They’ve chosen this life, haven’t they?”
Maybe he was being callous, but it was the truth. What made them entitled to any more protection from the world than anyone else? Being a pirate wasn’t for those afraid of dying.
Gaius wrung his hands and seemed to say a silent prayer. “You are captain of the ship and of your father’s blood. The spell should work for you.”
*
It was pitch dark aside from their lantern. The crew was asleep, all except Gwaine who had been put at the wheel. He’d taken the order with no questions asked, even if it wasn’t a job he did often. Leon had raised an eyebrow at the request, but Arthur hoped he wouldn’t create any trouble.
The spell was written on a crumpled piece of paper that Gaius had kept for years. He’d taken it out of an inner pocket where it had clearly stayed safe, in hope it could be used to right this wrong one day. Arthur felt sick looking at it, wondering if the foreign words would truly listen to his voice.
Merlin stood between them, somewhat wild-eyed. He looked about as calm as Arthur felt.
“Speak them clearly,” Gaius said. “Perhaps read them over a few times first.”
He studied Merlin who was shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “What will happen?”
“It’s not a spell I’ve ever tried,” Gaius said. “But it should free Merlin from the ship. You’ll have to leave right away, Merlin.”
Merlin nodded.
The paper felt fragile and for a moment Arthur imagined the wind ripping out of his hand and into the water, disappearing forever. He gripped it tighter and read the words over and over, committing them to memory. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at Merlin and spoke each word carefully. They rolled surprisingly easy from his mouth, like his mouth knew a language his mind didn’t.
Midway through the spell, Merlin’s eyes closed. His hair was moving in the wind. He looked every bit the same as he always had. The same as the one who’d shown up all those years ago. Arthur hadn’t ever really noticed how differently they’d aged. It just seemed like one of those things. Merlin, thin and light on his feet, always. Arthur, broader and heavier, filling out with every year at sea.
As Arthur stopped speaking it was quiet for a moment. Then, a strange, hollow groan went through the ship and Merlin’s face broke into a smile. When his eyes opened, they were bluer, Arthur could swear they were. Arthur could smell the summer evening after a rainfall. Instinctively, he reached out and took Merlin’s hand. He hadn’t planned to. It was just the part of him that didn’t know what this ship would be like without him. Not because he was a water spirit, but because he was Merlin.
“Thank you,” Merlin said.
Arthur swallowed, squeezing Merlin’s hand. “You need to go home.”
“Yes.” Merlin brushed his fingers against the base of Arthur’s throat and the familiar wave washed over him, its comfort even clearer now that he knew. The feeling was still lingering when Merlin leaned in and kissed him softly. It ended before Arthur could fully commit it to memory.
Merlin turned and hugged Gaius, whispering something in his ear.
Then he was mid-air, diving into the waves where he disappeared.
Arthur turned and locked eyes with Gwaine. Gwaine saluted him.
*
They cornered him in the captain’s rooms the next day. Gaius and Gwaine was an unlikely partnership, but there it was.
“We’ll be at Port Mercia in only a day,” Gwaine said, yanking the book Arthur was reading out from under his nose. “I could delay it maybe another day at max if you keep my incompetent ass at the wheel.”
“We’re supposed to reach port.”
“You need to leave,” Gaius said, ignoring Arthur entirely. “Uther will not take this well. He’ll know it was you. No one else could have done it. If anyone could have, I would have long ago.”
“All the more reason for me to stay. What will happen to the crew if I leave him to lose his mind without me here?”
Gaius and Gwaine exchanged looks.
“Listen.” Gwaine pushed him aside on the sofa and sat down next to him. “Uther will lose it. Most of the crew’s never been particularly loyal to Uther, it’s just that things have always gone so well, haven’t they? And now at least the three of us know why. Others might catch on. People will choose whether to stay on, or find their luck somewhere else. In the end, it’s their choice.”
“What about you?” Arthur said to Gaius. “Don’t tell me he won’t know you’re involved as well.”
“I’ll leave if you leave.”
“Why did you stay? All these years, knowing what he did?”
“What would it help if I left? At least this way, I could look after you. And Merlin had someone on ship who knew. If I left, who would he confide in?”
*
Under the cover of night, Arthur and Gwaine lowered the jolly boat onto the water. Gwaine had steered the ship closer to land after Leon had gone to bed, leaving Arthur with an easier trip towards shore.
“Won’t you come with me?” Arthur said as they hugged. “We’ll find somewhere nice. Plenty of girls for you to chat up.”
Gwaine laughed. “Sorry, Arthur. It’s always been this life for me, you know. I’m not like you.”
“I know.” Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. “Find me sometime, yeah?”
“When you least expect it.”
As Arthur rowed away from the ship, he knew it would always have led to this. He had never wanted to be his father, even before he knew the lengths his father went to. The further he rowed towards shore, the lighter he felt.
*
“Another ale?” Arthur set down the glass he’d been drying.
Gaius took a seat on the bar stool with slight difficulty. “Thank you, my boy.”
Outside, the sun was sparkling on the bright blue water. The waves were crashing against the shore: the way Arthur had always preferred it.
The tavern was less crowded than usual this time of day, but there was a market in town that had opened just this morning.
“Aren’t you heading over to the market?” Arthur asked. “Alice has her stall up, right?”
“I suppose I have to.” Gaius looked reluctant to leave his seat by the bar. “The crowds are a bit too much for someone who spent half their life in a galley.”
“You spent it feeding a horde of pirates. Surely, the crowds are nothing compared to that.”
Gaius laughed. “When you put it that way.”
When he finished his ale, Gaius left to keep Alice company, and several other patrons headed the same way. Arthur stood at the window, looking out at the docks outside and the beach below. The sand was white and bright against the shimmering blue and Arthur never got tired of the view, or the feeling of his feet firmly on land.
Oh, and there was Merlin. Arthur dropped the glass he was drying and it shattered on the floor. Merlin walked along the beach towards the tavern. It was him. Arthur would know him anywhere. He hadn’t seen him in two years. Not knowing what to do, Arthur stood rooted to the floor as the door opened and Merlin stepped inside.
Merlin moved with ease and smiled brightly when he caught Arthur’s eyes. He was alive in a way that Arthur had never seen.
“Hi,” Merlin said. “Long time.”
“Yeah.”
When Arthur didn’t say anything else, Merlin looked around the room, and said, “Can we sit?”
Arthur brought him to a table near the back, away from the few patrons left. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Merlin, unable to fit the picture of him in with this life—his new life.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’ve been here. I thought it was easier not to, but I might have been wrong.” Merlin fidgeted with his hands. “When I first saw that you bought this, I couldn’t believe it.”
“You live here?”
“The waterfall some way into the forest, over that way.” Merlin gestured out the window.
Arthur shook his head. “Seriously?”
“Why do you think Uther never found you, but Gwaine and his crew did?”
On instinct, Arthur looked over at the shelf where he kept all of Gwaine’s presents from his treasures. Every few months they’d tumble in with fresh bounty and enough stories to keep Arthur entertained for a long weekend.
When quiet fell between them, Arthur found it difficult to keep eye contact. He hesitated, running a finger along the edge of the table.
“Why did you stay away all this time if you were so close?”
“I thought it’d be better this way.”
“Do you still?”
Reaching over, Merlin laced their fingers together. “I don’t know.” He smiled softly. “How’s your mark?”
It put Arthur off balance to feel the heat of Merlin’s hand in his, and his mouth spoke without permission. “Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning.”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said and his brows furrowed. “I’ve been selfish. I needed time. I didn’t think about what it might feel like. For you.”
“No.” Arthur caught his hand as it was about to press to his mark. “You’re free.”
“So let me do what I wish.”
“Not if it means you’re duty-bound to me.”
“It’s never been duty with you, Arthur. Haven’t I been obvious?”
Arthur looked away. The other patrons still weren’t looking in their direction. Merlin’s thumb rubbed over the back of his hand.
“I was bound to the ship against my will. I always wanted to be free. But in the middle of all that, you were always a choice I made. I chose you.”
“I don’t want to be my father.”
“You could never be,” Merlin said. “Besides, I’m not Undine, like your mother. Me choosing to be with you won’t affect me. Like that.”
Arthur met his eyes and his lips pulled into a smile. “There’s a market in town.”
“Oh, is there?” Merlin leaned forward on his elbows. “Will you take me?”
Chasing his remaining patrons out, Arthur closed the tavern for the first time since he took over. The two of them walked onto the docks in the blinding sunshine and moved towards town, bumping into each other from time to time.
“Gwaine and Leon always come back with a suspicious amount of bounty. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”
Turning to face Arthur, walking backwards for a brief moment, Merlin grinned. “Maybe.”
He reached for Arthur’s hand and held it loosely in his. Looking out over the bay, Arthur squinted against the sun and watched the waves crash onto the shore.