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Merlin had always known he’d come between Arthur and his father- his magic. Or feared he would. He’d liked to think he and Arthur were at least close enough for the blond to give him a certain amount of time before exposing him to the King. What he hadn’t expected was to be literally standing between them. “Arthur, don’t.”
“Get out of my way, Merlin,” Arthur growled low in his throat, nostrils flaring as he stared down at the still sleeping form of the elder Pendragon- no doubt Merlin had something to do with that.
“Arthur,” Merlin tried again, keeping his voice soft and full of love and devotion.
The blond shifted his gaze to his manservant cum warlock, “Why?”
Merlin’s eyes softened even further, understanding his Prince’s question. “Because that’s not who you are.”
Arthur’s eyes turned sad and sorrowful. “How many? How many more? How many Witchfinders, how many innocents, how much more blood in the name of safety and freedom? How many more accusations,” Gwen, Morgana, Gaius, Merlin- he shuddered at the thought of how many times he’d come so close to losing Merlin, “and worse,” Tom- Gwen’s father. “It’s not worth it, this “Freedom” he claims to bring us- it’s not freedom, it’s simply a different kind of fear.” Arthur’s eyes hardened once again. “You can’t want this.”
Merlin closed his eyes slowly, lowering his head. “I want you not to do this. It’s not the Arthur I know, the one who believes in justice, right and wrong, honour- the things that will one day make a great king. The things that make the man I love.”
Arthur visibly sagged; his furious eyes turning once again to the prone form of his father- the idea of Uther’s blood running in his veins disgusted him. “He is no longer my father,” Arthur bit out before turning to leave.
Merlin let out a heavy breath, murmuring a few words to break the spell that held Uther in a peaceful sleep, never knowing how close he came to losing his life and his son, before he slipped out of the King’s chambers. Another muttered passage to free the guards as well.
He found Arthur in his rooms, standing by the window an arm held up buffering his forehead against the hard stone wall.
“Don’t say it, Merlin.”
“Arthur, whatever else Uther may be, he’s still your father.” Merlin told him, blatantly ignoring Arthur’s command as usual.
“And if he’s a murderer and a hypocrite and a very real threat to the one person I care for most?”
“Then he’s still your father.” Merlin let his eyes lock with the prince’s hoping he could see the truth in them.
Arthur closed his eyes, reaching out to grab Merlin and pull him close. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” he said against to mop of Merlin’s dark hair.
“Nothing will.” He smirked. “I have you.”