Work Text:
Magic was inexplicable. It always had been.
For so long in Arthur’s life, he couldn’t even explain what it was; just that it was bad. It was the plague that wiped out kingdoms, killed a newborn babe’s mother, and sent grown men to their knees with tears down their faces.
Later in his life, magic had a face. It reared its ugly head in passersby as they killed his father’s people, his people. Magic stayed hanging in the town square for all to see - a warning.
Magic was evil.
Until it wasn’t. Until Arthur saw someone try to save their dying father using magic, until he’d heard magic described as alive.
Until Merlin.
A part of him thought he’d always known. What other man could be foolish enough to challenge a knight, and be bold enough to boast to their face. Could any other human let the light catch their eyes in that way? Were his canines just a tad too sharp? Arthur thought he could even see it in the way he held himself. It was as if magic was coursing through every ounce of his body. Arthur thought it was beautiful.
But when he saw Merlin using the magic in person… the very magic Arthur had seen kill so many and destroy villages- well, it was all he could do not to take off running like a betrayed suitor to his father’s arms.
“You’ve got magic?” Arthur asked, his tongue seeming too big for his mouth. Even though he knew it was true he wanted Merlin to deny it. Deny the fact that he’d been committing treason, that Arthur had by choosing to ignore it.
Merlin laughed nervously, holding his hands up placatingly.
“Arthur, please, I can explain.” Arthur started shaking his head, backing up. There was only one explanation for this. “Arthur-”
“Stop,” It came out something between the wheeze of a dying dog and a gasp. “Just, stop.” Arthur brought his hand up to his brow, squeezing it. Why Merlin? It would’ve been so much easier if it were anyone else… it couldn’t be Merlin.
The other man reached out his hand to Arthur’s arm, his fingertips just barely whisking his skin. Arthur shot back as if he’d been burned.
“Please, Arthur I-”
“No, no. I need to- I’m supposed to turn you in for this. Y’know, to my... To my father.” He tried to ignore the flash of fear in Merlin’s eyes.
“Arthur please, you know me! I’d never do anything to hurt you.” He squeezed his hand into a fist, his nails making half-moon crescents into his palm as he tried to ignore the shakiness in Merlin’s voice. Ignore, ignore, ignore. It seemed that’s all he’d been doing for the past year (almost two, but who was counting?) since he’d met the other.
“I also thought you’d tell me anything,” Like I’d do for you. “But it seems I was wrong about that, too.” Merlin winced, looking hurt.
“I do trust you.” Merlin said, and Arthur scoffed. How could he? Arthur wouldn’t trust him if he were Merlin. If he had magic as Merlin did.
“So what now?” The other asked. “You turn me in?” Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn’t want to. For everything he was worth, for all the years of having the hatred for magic ground into every ounce of his being, he didn’t want to.
“Father will see you hung.” He said instead. It was simpler. Merlin nodded, looking down at his feet.
“I swear to you, Arthur, I only ever wanted to help.” Maybe Merlin was using magic on him right then because it felt as if his heart were breaking in two.
“I know.” He whispered, and he wished he hadn’t. He wished he could be cold and just throw Merlin to the gallows. But it felt like his skin was melting into his bones whenever he was around him - like his mind was fraying slightly at the edges when he saw the way his clothing hugged his body. Merlin glanced up at him, catching his words.
“Then let me live. Is it truly so evil to be something not understood?”
“You’re practicing magic, Merlin! It’s treason! If I let you live, then I will be betraying my kingdom. I’ll have betrayed my father.” He shook his head. Some part of him knew he would unravel if he had to see Merlin die. He would be like a planet without its star to orbit around. Cold, and lifeless. ‘Then don’t look.’ His father had told him once. If only it were that easy, but Arthur feared his eyes would be drawn to Merlin like they always were.
“If you let me die, then you’ll be betraying yourself.” They both knew it to be true. If he let Merlin die, it would go against all Arthur had grown to stand for. Merlin sighed, looking into the distance.
“Someone once told me that we are two sides of the same coin; that our fates are intertwined,” Merlin said softly, then met his eyes. “You are the once and future king, Arthur. Whatever you choose to do, this will reflect your future. Will your people want a king who kills his subjects, or will they want a merciful king?” Arthur blinked, almost saying ‘When did you get so wise’ but it died on his tongue. Instead, he said,
“My subjects wouldn’t want a king who decides to change the rules just for when he gets-” attached. The almost-word whistles around in his brain, he can taste it in his mouth. He almost says it, but he must stop himself. It’s improper for a prince to speak of his servant that way, much less a magical one.
“Even if the rules are cruel?” And cruel they were, just like the fates. If Arthur weren’t a price, and Merlin not a servant, they could’ve been so much more. Merlin walks up to him until they’re nose to nose and Arthur can feel the electric heat radiating off the other. By the dead, if he let himself he could become addicted to Merlin.
“Even then,” He whispered back hoarsely, but it came off half-meant, even to his ears.
“Then look me in the eyes and tell me you want to see me dead,” Merlin commanded, even though his voice was still low, almost a whisper. Arthur took a deep breath, moving his tongue over his teeth as he prepared himself
“I want you dead,” Arthur said, but he was looking at his feet. Merlin tilted his head at him.
“Do you?” Arthur looked up, meeting his gaze.
“I want you dead,” But his eyes had shut.
“Sometimes,” Merlin murmured. “The rules are wrong.” Arthur felt himself nodding, even as something in his brain screamed at him to find his sword and run the magic user through himself.
“You’re very dear to me, Merlin.” Merlin looked up, catching his eye. Something mirthful was gleaming in it.
“Am I, now?” Arthur sighed.
“You’ve no idea.”
There would be no hanging that day.