@merthurmicrofic | prompt: Corridor | words: 3,824 | I have no excuses for my actions, I'm afraid | CW: mild homophobia & Uther is his own content warning, frankly
Fingers brushed through his hair in a surprisingly tender display. He hadn't known his son was capable of something like that.
While the world continued to grow dark and cold around him, Arthur was there to give it light. He always did.
He tries to remember if he told Arthur that.
He tries to remember if Arthur had ever looked at him like this before.
He's not sure. He can't pick apart the past, his mind stays stuck in a swarm of memories. Smiles from a woman who he has not seen in so many years-tears from a girl he swore to protect-and the strength he underestimated in his son's hands.
"How is he today?" Arthur asked.
He wants to speak but he can't feel his throat.
"Better today." He recognizes that voice, his mind finally catching up with what his eyes are seeing.
Arthur's hand rests firmly on his shoulder, but his gaze is set on the servant-Merlin.
Merlin has a familiar face that he can't place, and doesn't bother trying.
"He was responding earlier today, and I even got him to eat a little," Merlin doesn't look at Uther. His gaze is level with Arthur's.
"That's good," Arthur nods slowly.
"He's not fought me once today, I think I'm growing on him," Merlin smiles.
A smile Uther has not seen in many years briefly passes over Arthur's face.
"Perhaps," his son muses in an amused tone, "though I think he's always been a little fond of you."
Uther thinks. Was he fond of Merlin?
He seems to make Giaus very happy, so yes...yes he quite liked Merlin, actually.
Merlin let's out a small laugh, "Right. Well, you know him best. So I won't argue."
"That's unlike you Merlin," Arthur smiles brighter now, voice almost imperceptible.
"Hm," Merlin takes a step closer to his son, "do you want to eat dinner here tonight?"
"I'd like that," Arthur confirms. "And lets try and get him a bath today, since he's doing better."
"Of course," Merlin bows his head politely and Uther can't help but feel it's staunchly out of character. "I'll fetch the water, is there anything else you need from me?"
"No, just prepare him a bath."
Arthur's hand leaves his shoulder, and for a brief moment he cannot see neither Merlirn nor his son. He hears the door open...close...footsteps. And Arthur is sitting across from him.
"Thank you for not putting up a fuss with Merlin today," Arthur watched him, a strange look dancing in his eyes. "You know I was upset with you, when you appointed him. But...well maybe he was right. Maybe."
He wants to ask what the servant could have been right about.
"He's been nothing but loyal. You always had better judgement," Arthur continues.
Yes, Merlin is quite loyal.
"I don't know how you managed it all these years," Arthur leans back in his seat.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Arthur keeps speaking and he strives to listen, but all he gets is Arthur's lips moving.
He's not sure how long passes before Arthur's lips no longer move.
He tries to speak again, but the words catch in his throat. He wants to reach out to his son, but he cannot feel his hands.
Arthur places his hand over Uther's. Its warm. He says something.
It is then, the door opens.
Arthur's eyes light up in a subtle way. A faint spark igniting in his expression as he watches what has come through the door. Uther can't look behind him, but he figures he'll see what has enraptured his son in just a moment.
"Merlin, good," Arthur stands, walking behind Uther.
He can hear them speaking, it's hushed, purposely unintelligible.
Uther wonders what Merlin could have possibly brought to make Arthur look like that.
"Thank you for letting me know," Arthur's voice is clear now, "I'll see you here for dinner."
"Of course, I'll tend to your chambers after his bath," Merlin promises.
Uther feels slighted. He wants to tell his son goodbye.
His fingers curl around his armrest, and he forces air in and out of his lungs as Merlin had been instructing him.
"Arthur." He finally calls.
"Father," Arthur comes back into his line of view, kneeling down in front of him with wide eyes, "what is it?"
Uther can't find his voice again, it stays strangled in his throat, but he manages to grasp Arthur's hand.
"Breathe, my lord," Merlin reminds him.
Uther does as he is told, seeing the way it brings comfort to Arthur's face.
"He's aware though," Arthur looks to Merlin, that expression again, "that's a good thing."
"It is," Merlin nods, "I've hardly gotten him to whisper yes or no."
Arthur stands, squeezing Uther's hand gently, "I'll be back later tonight."
Uther does his best to squeeze his son's hand in return, but he's not sure Arthur registers it.
They're just within his peripheral, but he's not sure he can trust his eyes when it appears that Arthur leans closer than necessary to his servant.
And he's not sure he can trust his ears when he thinks he hears his son whisper, "You're a wonder, Merlin."
The sky is grey, rain drizzling dimly down on the courtyard. He's grown accustomed to watching. To doing nothing more than observing the world about him, and he's grown a deep disdain for days such as this. When the commotion is minimal and there is nothing for him to observe.
He does not wish to look out at this dreary morning any longer.
The man is usually here by now, he thinks. Time gets away from him these days. Still. Why has he not arrived?
That servant girl...Gwen? She woke him not long ago and tended to his bed linens. Merlin typically comes in not long after.
So yes-he is usually here by now.
He looks about the room, twisting as far as his body will allow. The door seems farther than it once did.
Time he cannot track passes briskly by before the door finally opens.
Merlin, disheveled, chest heaving, a meal in his hands, barreling in with all the grace of a newborn filly, meets his gaze with surprise.
"Expecting me?" Merlin composed himself, closing the door softly.
Uther squints, he was expecting Merlin.
"Why wouldn't I?" His own voice shocks him. Not authoritative as it had been mere months ago. Weak, hardly a rasp.
Merlin's eyes go wide, and he quickly crosses the distance between himself and Uther.
"How are you feeling this morning, my lord?" Merlin places an unappetizing looking meal down on the table.
Uther blinks slowly, how does he feel?
He can't really say. He doesn't feel much of anything anymore.
"Right," Merlin emphasizes the 't' with the subtle click of his tongue as he nods. "Then how about a walk? Yes?"
Uther didn't mind that. He no longer wanted to look out the window. He stares at the meal Merlin brought him instead, and that doesn't do much in the way of improving his mood.
"Very well then, we'll get you fed and dressed," Merlin smiles at him. It does not reach his eyes. "And then we can go for a walk."
To his surprise, the porridge Merlin brought him is not as bad as he assumed it would be.
"You ate quite well today, Arthur will be pleased," Merlin doesn't look at him. There is a smile on his face, and it reaches his eyes.
For a man who does not like him, Merlin is very patient.
He does not say a word as Uther almost pulls him down trying to stand, and he does not complain when Uther steps on his foot.
Merlin takes him down to the end of the corridor, and there stand Sir Leon and another man he cannot remember the name of.
"Merlin," the nameless man smirks, "out for a stroll?"
Sir Leon bows his head to Uther, "It's good to see his majesty up and about."
Uther gives him what he hopes is an appraising nod.
"Arthur will certainly be glad to hear it," nameless man's expression softens, but his tone is still teasing "if I'm sick Merlin will you care for me just as well?"
"If Prince Arthur asks me to, I will, Sir Gwaine," Merlin answers easily.
Uther watches both Sir Leon and this Sir Gwaine as their faces twist in surprise-perhaps discomfort, even.
"...is everything alright-Merlin?" Sir Leon frowns his speech awkward and stilted. Purposefully careful.
"His majesty is alert and aware, gentlemen, keep that in mind."
Something is happening. Uther is not sure what, he's sure Arthur will do everything in his power to keep him from knowing. Once upon a time he's sure he'd be enraged, but now, he simply lets Merlin guide him back to his room.
"Look at that, the rain stopped," Merlin muses as he finishes tidying up Uther's room. "Do you wish to sit next to the window, my lord?"
Uther glances at it form his place in bed, where he not so graciously collapsed.
"Right then," Merlin helps him to his chair. He is weaker now, his muscles weary from such a small task as walking a hallway.
"I'd say you've had quite the day already, my lord," Merlin smiles-it still does not reach his eyes.
He's not sure when he wound up on the floor. He's not sure how either. He's sure he a reason for moving, though.
There is a sound. He cannot make out what it is.
Then something presses into him, his shoulders, his sides, his chest.
The world moves about him, senseless and nauseating. Too many things happen in short bursts only to be followed by nothing.
His vision catches up with him first, it usually does. Nothing is out of the ordinary, he thinks. The canopy of his bed still hangs, it is still red, and its still ever so slightly off center. He stopped mentioning it long ago, however, for no one ever saw it.
In a daring display, he turns his head slightly to the side. His mind takes a second to catch up with what he's seeing. And even then he's not sure that's actually what he sees. For in that moment it appeared that Arthur had his arms wrapped loosely around his manservant, and that Merlin had his hands on Arthur's chest. Which couldn't possibly be right. He forces his eyes shut, shaking his head the best he can, and when he opens them once more a proper, sensible image greets him.
Arthur hovers at the foot of his bed, Merlin is at his side. A wet cloth is placed over his forehead.
Merlin says something, and Uther has to read his lips.
'Fever' is all he makes out.
Which makes sense, he's clearly delirious.
Merlin keeps telling him this with a smile that Uther thinks is starting to reach his eyes, and Arthur looks at him like a miracle when they have dinner.
He's walking around his room on his own now.
He'd like to go down to the courtyard sometime.
He looks down at it from his window, then to his legs. He's sure he can make it.
He makes it out the door and down the first corridor.
"Your majesty," a man speaks to him. A knight he does not recognize, "is there something I can do for you?"
Uther looks at the man, he is tall and broad and certainly looks the part of a knight of Camelot.
However he has no interest in learning about just another son of another family he cannot be bothered to care for anymore.
"Where is Merlin?" Uther thinks suddenly. It is around lunch, is it not? Typically, Merlin is around this hour.
"He is with Prince Arthur," the knight extends a hand, "I can fetch him if you wish?"
Uther shakes his head, they must be attending to something. He can fair well enough on his own.
"I'm..." What was he doing?
"Let's get you back to your room, your majesty, Merlin will be here to bring your lunch shortly."
"No." Uther keeps walking.
The knight does not seem to know what to do, but resigns himself to staying put at his post. A wise decision.
As Uther continues down the corridor he hears voices.
"Mm, you're being sweet today. What have you done?"
"Wha-can I not just show you affection?"
Uther pauses. He knows those voices. He peers around the corner, unable to deny what he sees.
His son cradling his servant's face, locked in a kiss that drags far beyond any appropriate time frame.
When they part Arthur smiles, and it's bright and painfully-obviously in love. Oh no. No, no, no.
"Arthur I have to bring your father his lunch," Merlin chides his son, the prince. He chides. Scolds. The insolence.
Their whispers still manage to carry down the hall. Soft tones that shouldn't be shared between any two men much less his son and a servant.
Uther turns away, making his way back to his room, panicked.
How can he put a stop to this? How could he put his trust in that servant? Disgusting. Wretched.
His fingers go numb as he uses the wall to support himself.
"Father?" Arthur calls from somewhere behind him.
His blood goes cold, body rigid.
He turns, and bile threatens to rise up his throat.
The servant is right next to his son, in his hands is a tray of food. They are too close. They're not even trying to hide it, at this point.
Arthur approaches him with a wide smile, but its not as lively as the one he bares at the servant. It is not as familiar. It does not bring the same warmth to Uther's chest.
Uther stumbles over his words. Arthur places a gentle hand on his shoulder and looks at him kindly.
"What are you doing out here?"
Can he not walk his own halls anymore?
"...the courtyard..." Uther barely manages to explain himself.
Merlin passes behind Arthur, eyes fixed on his son, "Perhaps after lunch you can join us for a walk in the courtyard?"
Arthur turns to him, and that smile returns. The one that shouldn't be there. The one that Uther forgot Arthur possessed. The one that he got from his mother.
Uther feels all the rage and ire that had bubbled inside him disperse.
"I'll take him back to his chambers, my lord," Merlin bows his head in that polite way.
He is an excellent actor, Uther realizes. And he wants to yell, tell them this cannot continue, forbid it.
But his lips remain sealed as Arthur leaves them with a promise to return within the hour.
His lips remain sealed when they pass the knight.
His lips remain sealed when Merlin sits him down.
And his lips remain sealed when Arthur returns just as he promised. Merlin praises Uther's progress.
"He ate everything I brought him."
"Thats a big step for him."
"I know, I think he's excited to get out more."
Merlin enters his room, a resolute expression on his face.
"I need you to do me a favor," Merlin approaches him quickly, kneeling down to him. His eyes are cold, but his voice aches.
"Do you know what tomorrow is?"
Uther nods, too surprised to reprimand him for his improper behavior.
"Yes and he's going to bury himself in work," Merlin clicks his tongue in evident annoyance. A habit he's never seemed to kick.
Uther almost laughs. Almost.
"But," Merlin takes his hands, "if you ask to celebrate, he will."
He should be upset. He realizes. Horrified that his son's servant lover has taken it upon himself to go behind Arthur's back like this. Abuse his weakness.
Unfortunately, he finds himself glad Merlin has informed him that Arthur planned on doing nothing for his birthday.
"A feast should be held," Uther declares.
"Exactly," Merlin nods, "he will be here soon. Please, tell him you wish to celebrate with him."
Uther can do that. He's not a monster, he's not sure why Merlin looks at him like he is.
He's been very accepting of this arrangement between him and Arthur.
They really don't hide it.
Uther sees it plain as day.
Though perhaps...he has a different perspective.
But their hands entwine. They lean in too close. They whisper to one another and share knowing, mischievous smiles.
"Arthur do not," Merlin demands as his son stands to accept the challenge from tonight's performers.
"Come now Merlin," Arthur grins at him, he rolls his eyes, and he looks at Merlin like the servant hung the stars.
"Hm, I do not like the idea of knives being directed at your head," Merlin clicks his tongue. The annoyed way. The 'don't argue with me Pendragon' way.
Arthur huffs a laugh, "Then no knives shall be thrown at my head."
Uther can't help it. He laughs too, and he cannot believe he laughs because it is obscene. Yet it's so funny. His son has power over an army, a kingdom, and he bends to the will of pretty blue eyes.
Uther has never been able to control his son. Perhaps that's why he's not tried to put a stop to his and Merlin's affair. Though perhaps he's softer in his old age than he'd care to admit. But to think all it took was a servant of Merlin's caliber.
Had he known he would have sought the boy out sooner.
Merlin guided him to his chambers.
The festivities were still in swing, but it was high time Uther retired.
Merlin dressed him in his night clothes and sat him down in his chair.
"Arthur will come visit you later I'm sure," Merlin hummed.
Uther just nodded, watching as the servant prepared his bed.
"Probably within an hour or so, he's already-"
"How long has he been courting you?"
Merlin nearly trips over himself.
His eyes blow wide and he stares at Uther completely dumbfounded.
"Um-I-well-we-" Merlin stumbled again before straightening his posture and taking a breath, "I think that's something you and Arthur should discuss-but six months. Officially."
So their little affair had been going on longer. Great.
"Well-" Merlin paused, "like I said. A conversation for Arthur."
"He loves you," Uther hears himself say.
Merlin continues to stare at him in disbelief, "You don't say?"
"You love him, right?" Uther looks at him, if his son is so insistent on this servant it better not be for nothing.
Merlin knelt down in front of him, "My lord, do you really think I'd spend my days at your bedside if I didn't love Arthur with all my being?"
No. No, Uther didn't think he would.
"You are a mystery," Uther sighs.
"Don't say that," Merlin's face screwed up, "don't say things Arthur says."
His head jerks suddenly, and Arthur is in the room. He's sitting across from him, but not looking at him with that overly fond look he usually does.
No, Merlin is still here. Or perhaps he's returned.
The servant places a kiss on Arthur's temple, whispering something to his son.
They don't seem to realize he's awake again.
"I trust you to make it to your room?" Merlin teases with a slight snicker.
"I will manage perfectly well, thank you," Arthur slurs.
"Mm, perfectly," Merlin murmurs. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, Merlin," Arthur takes Merlin's hand and places a light kiss on his knuckle.
A soft, adoring smile graces Merlin's features, "Goodnight, love."
Once Merlin is gone, Uther readjusts himself slightly to alert Arthur he is awake.
His son finally looks at him and smiles. He's been doing that a lot more recently, Uther realizes. Though he started smiling more when that servant first arrived.
"I think it's time we get you to bed," Arthur hoists himself up, stumbling a tad.
Uther suddenly wishes Merlin had stayed, at least he could trust the servant not to drop him.
When Arthur leans against his chair too many things happen at once.
He hears the clashing of blades and yelling.
He hears his son cry out for aid.
Uther gathers himself, moving like he did when he was young. A sword on the ground. A man standing over his son.
Uther lunges forward with strength he thought he'd lost for good.
When a blade is thrust through him he thanks the world for the numbness it bestowed on him the previous year.
He closes his eyes, he always knew he'd go down with a sword in his hands.
Wet hands come to his face, and he can hear Arthur calling for help.
He wishes to reach up and comfort his son, reminded of the child who could not sleep without being held. Yet the numb feeling that had threatened his being for months takes hold of him. He sees nothing, he feels nothing, and finally he hears nothing.
He's not a fool, he just hadn't realized what they were waiting for.
Uther had always told him he would go down with a sword in his hands. Gaius always told him he couldn't possibly know that. Well. It would seem Uther got the final say after all.
Arthur stands over his father's body, his tears have subsided. Merlin is at his side-his back, more accurately. Wrapped around him in a protective display of affection.
Gaius had known-he'd known for a while, Merlin and Arthur weren't exactly hiding their courtship they just hadn't said it out loud. Or addressed it-he's not quite sure how to phrase it, but the point stands.
Still he couldn't help but find it slightly off putting. He was happy for them, truly, but he'd never seen them so absorbed in one another. He's sure, years down the line, they would not remember he'd been in the room when Uther was declared dead.
Arthur held his father's hand in a desperate, tight grasp.
"I'm so sorry, Arthur," Merlin laid his head down against the broad line of Arthur's shoulders.
"...he knew," Merlin assures the prince.
Gaius does not speak. Though, he highly doubts Uther would have ever put together Merlin and Arthur's relationship without them outright telling the man.
"You don't have to lie," Arthur looked back at Merlin, his free hand combing through the mess of dark hair splayed across his shoulder.
"You know I wouldn't do that," Merlin mumbles, "I'll never lie to you like that Arthur."
Gaius decides he should leave. They clearly need time alone to themselves.
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