Merlin
Merlin had been living a lie since he knew what one was. Ealdor lied in the border of Cenred’s kingdom and Camelot, and was much more tolerant of magic than Camelot was.
Even so, you could only show so much ability before people got suspicious.
So in Ealdor, it had always been playing down his abilities. He never imagined he was going to be hiding them completely. Merlin lived by Gaius’ rules, most of the time. Half the time. Whenever they didn’t get in his way, if he was being honest.
However, recently, his magic had been itchy, for lack of better words. He felt it under his skin, in his veins, his hair. Heard it in every breath he breathed, every word that came from his mouth.
It was getting increasingly more difficult to hide from Arthur. Merlin had promised himself he would tell Arthur, but he never did.
Now he wasn’t sure he ever would.
Magic wasn’t outlawed anymore, Merlin had made sure Arthur changed that law. It had been a big argument for them.
Arthur thought it was because of Will. He wasn’t completely wrong in that. Because magic was outlawed in Camelot, Merlin hadn’t been able to save Will’s life.
His best friend.
Merlin would never forgive himself.
It was as much as a burden as the unreleased magic begging to be let out. Merlin had begun to do small spells, ones he would not usually permit himself to do, just to get that burden off for a little bit.
Times like this, Merlin really wished he hadn’t let Kilgarrah go. He didn’t know what was happening.
It had been affecting his sleep recently, the mix of his magic racing beneath his skin and his usual anxiety(burning at the stake, Arthur finding out, burning at the stake, Arthur being killed, burning at the stake) was not spelling out good things for Merlin’s sanity.
Luckily, no one had noticed. Yet. Merlin wished Lancelot was still here. Someone to share his magic with. Someone who knew other than Gaius.
One day, Merlin had plain passed out while talking to Arthur. Arthur had gone into a panic apparently, screaming for Gaius, Gwen, Leon, quite literally any one that would listen.
Finally, Gaius had shown up, diagnosing Merlin with lack of sleep, and telling Arthur in his own way to calm the fuck down.
From that day, Arthur didn’t let Merlin out of his sight, convinced the taller, ganglier boy would fall asleep and fall off a staircase(as Arthur had vocalized many times).
For a while it felt…nice. Merlin knew he was heads over heels in love with Arthur. He had been for years. To have the man you’ve been desperately in love with for years care about you and worry for you? It was as close as Merlin was ever going to get to love.
But the issue with having Arthur follow Merlin around all the time, was the burning of his magic could no longer be released. The only time he had was at night, when he should be sleeping.
“Merlin! Merlin! What are you doing you idiot, get over here with my food!” Arthur snapped, and Merlin was whisked away from his own mind forcefully. Merlin scrambled to Arthur’s side with the large platter of food, more than he usually got.
“I’m not sure how much of this you need…” Merlin muttered under his breath, trailing off. Arthur wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did. Merlin ducked a pillow that was thrown his way.
“You clotpole! I had to add a new hole to that belt last week, and I almost cut my finger off! I’m not doing it again!” Merlin shouted back.
“That’s not a real word!” Arthur spluttered, before yelling,” And besides, you’re my manservant Merlin. It’s literally your job!”
Something in Merlin’s brain snapped a little, maybe from the lack of sleep, maybe from the magic that burned under his skin, amping up all of his emotions.
“Everything is my job Arthur, can’t you see that? I’m the king’s manservant, and for some gods forsaken reason, everyone else has decided that means they must get my approval for things! And I don’t have a fucking servant to do it for me! Muck out the stables Merlin, bring me my food Merlin, do these flowers match the other decorations Merlin, Merlin he says that he won’t do his chores for this week, blah, blah, blah! It never ends Arthur!”
Merlin’s emotion’s regretted the words the moment they exited his mouth. But his logical side? Arthur needed to hear this. He needed to know that just because he was King didn’t mean Arthur was the only one struggling.
Merlin was torn. Arthur sent him away after his outburst, refusing to talk to him. Merlin could’ve sworn he saw tears in his best friend’s eyes. He wanted to feel guilty, he wanted to go to Arthur’s feet and beg for forgiveness. But he also wanted to whack Arthur on the back of the head, sit him down, and tell him how much of a dick he’s been.
Merlin also knew whatever was going on with his magic was partially at fault. And his lack of sleep.
So really, this was all Merlin’s fault, even if Arthur deserved it.
Like it always was.
A week later, Merlin got over it, and apologized. Arthur tried to keep up a strong pretense, but Merlin saw right past it. Arthur was relieved he hadn’t lost someone else.
However the apology seemed to make everything worse. Seeing Arthur burned. Seeing him had always been this sickly-sweet thing. Merlin loved Arthur, but he knew that he’d never get to act on that. Goddess, Arthur would never know the entirety of Merlin. Arthur would know him, but not him. Arthur could never know Merlin’s struggles, his accomplishments, there was an entire part of Merlin he had hidden from everyone.
Gwen had picked up on it now. The way Merlin avoided Arthur unless he absolutely had to do something.
It made things fifty times worse. Now he had his magic acting up, was running on thirty minutes of sleep he got two days ago, avoiding Arthur, and watching out for Gwen, and in turn Morgana.
That was Merlin’s other problem. Morgana. Her magic. No matter how much Merlin wanted to tell himself Arthur changed the magic laws purely for Merlin, Merlin knew Morgana was a major part of it.
Merlin didn’t know what she would’ve done if Arthur hadn’t talked to her about her magic, and he didn’t want to know. Morgana’s magic was still really uncontrollable, but now she had people helping her.
Her magic conflicted with Merlin’s. Merlin wasn’t sure what it was. Her magic felt wrong to him. But he couldn’t exactly approach her about it, because then Merlin would have to come clean about having magic.
As the days passed, it got worse. Merlin took as many sick days as he could, but even the thought of Arthur hurt. It felt like his magic was pushing against his skin, desperately trying to escape. Arthur made it worse. It was strange though. Arthur….he quelled the sensation, but instead Merlin felt his magic was angry. It wouldn’t hurt when Arthur was there, but it hurt in a different way.
When Merlin couldn’t take it anymore, and even Gaius’ tonics did nothing, he walked to the top of the castle. Was this what his magic wanted? To be released into the world?
But Arthur found him. Merlin felt it deep in his bones before Arthur yanked him away from the edge.
Merlin’s bones were rattling, his eyes could barely stay open, and his nose was bleeding. When had that started? Merlin took in a shaky breath, trying to shove the feeling back down.
Arthur’s voice was fading in and out of Merlin’s ears.
“Why would y—yourself? M—answer me! Merlin! Li—to me!” Arthur shouted, even as he cradled Merlin in his arms.
This would be a nice way to die, wouldn’t it?
As if that thought was the trigger, Merlin felt it. His magic trickling out of him. It hurt. It hurt so bad.
Arthur had no clue what had happened. He was screaming, Merlin was screaming, and Merlin’s world was ending. He felt the blood streaming from his nose turn to magic, he felt the tears in his eyes became the warm, golden sensation of magic. He felt his old wounds tear open. The worst one being the scar on his chest from Nimueh.
Merlin was dying. And he had no clue what to do.
And then, just like that, it was over. The wounds closed back over. Merlin breathed in, and his magic came back to him. It felt good, it felt right. Merlin could breathe again. But now the itchy feeling was back.
Arthur was sitting beside Merlin, frozen.
“You…have magic.” Arthur said finally, and when Merlin reached out to him to apologize, Arthur jerked away. Oh no. No, this was what Merlin was worried about. Merlin scrambled away from Arthur, apologizing profusely.
He needed to find Kilgarrah. Kilgarrah would know what to do. Merlin would be fine.
Arthur? Arthur would not.