It's honestly hard to fathom that this is almost almost over

It was supposed to be short and I want to keep to that but how short is short idk

I think I'm shooting for 11-12 chapters + epilogue

also the ball of light is my favorite character and it is the most adorable thing ever and I love it

-

Arthur was about to fall asleep when there was a knock on his door. He lifted his head from his desk at the sound and blinked his eyes a few times to focus them. Then, he rubbed at the crusty and irritating edges of his eyes, before stretching his arms out above his head and leaning back into his seat with a yawn. His eyes fell closed again, and he sat comfortably in his chair, cushioned with the finest feathers one could have. The thoughts in his brain blacked out as he tried to make himself comfortable again.

The person at the door knocked again, only slightly louder this time. Arthur's eyes opened slowly, followed by yet another yawn, and he wondered who could possibly need something at this time of night. His subconscious came up with the idea that it could possibly be a killer, but he figured it was far too unlikely with the castle's security. He tried to wake himself a bit more by standing and walking around to the front of his desk to lean against it. Yawning again, he found it in himself somewhere to speak.

"Come." He said, and grabbed his chalice that was on top of several dozen pieces of parchments, and had left a ring stain on top of them. As he downed the cold water, his senses started coming back to him, and he heard his door open and close before steps walked toward him. Putting the chalice down, he was greeted with the sight of Lancelot in front of him. The man stood tall and portrayed an aura of confidence, as any good knight should, even when addressing their king.

Arthur refrained from flinching when he saw his knight. The fact that he had been caught by Lancelot when he was with Merlin made his stomach fill with nerves, and his heart beat quicker than it should. Would he mention it? Was he here for another reason? What if Lancelot wanted Merlin for himself, and he wanted to challenge Arthur for him? He didn't want to fight Lancelot for him, but he didn't want to give Merlin up. If only there was some way to not have to fight him...

"Sire?" Lancelot asked, now standing a few feet away from him. He seemed confused as to what Arthur had been thinking, but then his lips aligned to form a devilish smirk. "Oh, thinking about Merlin again, are we?" Which only prompted Arthur to turn red, and Lancelot chuckling at the sight. He'd never seen Arthur look so bashful or embarrassed, and the fact that Merlin could make him look like that made Lancelot think that maybe, he hadn't needed to see the king in the first place.

"Yes, Sir Lancelot?" Arthur huffed. He tried to look as casual as possible, but when he leaned back on the edge of his desk, his hand landed on a parchment. Which then caused it to slide across the smooth surface, and then Arthur was toppling over onto the floor. He laid there for a moment, after turning over onto his back, feeling the aches and pains slowly recede. Sighing, he took his knight's offered hand and stood up, mumbling about getting his servant to stack the parchments right next time.

"And I thought Merlin was clumsy, but he has nothing on that fall, sire." Lancelot snorted, but when Arthur looked at him with a glare, he shut his mouth. It didn't keep the humorous smile off his face, however.

"And I thought Gwaine was the only dim witted one around here, but it appears I was wrong." Arthur said. Lancelot faked looking taken aback, with his hand placed over his heart as he took a step back and dropped his jaw. Afterward, they burst out laughing at the action, with Arthur slapping at Lancelot's shoulder every so often. He wheezed as they laughed on, and Arthur knew that whether Lancelot had come to talk about Merlin or not, they would be fine. He would always be the equivalent to Arthur's right hand: strong, reliable, and on his side.

After they'd calmed down, Arthur had sat in his seat at his desk, and Lancelot leaned against the front of it. He was fiddling with his fingers, as if wondering how to breach the topic that was weighing them down. Arthur couldn't help but think of how heavy Lancelot must be feeling. All he wanted to do was protect his friend from harm, and being with Arthur would put him in harm's way. Arthur knew it was nothing Lancelot had against him, but it was the fact that he was king and that he was constantly in danger. He decided he would start the conversation.

"Lancelot-,"

"Arthur-," They both spoke at the same time, and after abruptly stopping, they shared a smile between them, and Arthur waved a hand to signal to Lancelot that he should begin. He then prepared himself for the start of the conversation, knowing it was about him and Merlin. Surely, the knight hadn't stumbled into his room after dark to discuss any other topic. Unless, of course, it was urgent, but if it had been, they wouldn't have shared a laugh earlier, so Arthur knew this was about his relationship with Merlin. However, he didn't know Lancelot's stance on the subject, other than that he may not be supportive of it.

Standing up straight, Lancelot took a breath before speaking. He tried to summon all of his courage, even though he knew nothing would go wrong. His king, Arthur, had always been a dear friend and would always take others' opinions into account. Even if it meant sacrificing something of his own.

"Arthur, I wanted to talk to you about Merlin." He said, and Arthur nodded and made a vague gesture with his right hand for him to continue. This, he already knew; he just wanted to get on with what the true topic was. It had begun to eat at his mind, all of the stalling, before Lancelot had finally spoken up. Now, it was almost like Arthur was suspended in mid-air, waiting to see if he would crash to the ground or be caught by welcoming arms. The thought made him slightly nauseous.

"...I was wondering about your intentions with him. He's not just another one of your flings, is he? If he is, I'm going to have to ask you to stop playing with him; he doesn't deserve that." Lancelot said, and Arthur almost breathed out a sigh of relief. He kept it in, of course, because that would be no way for a king to show his appreciation. On the inside, he was glowing and his heart was jumping because thinking about Merlin gave him heart palpitations. Arthur knew exactly how he was going to answer Lancelot, because he knew exactly what he wanted.

"No, Lancelot... He's not a fling. I want to pursue something more with him, only if he wants to, of course." He sighed thoughtfully, in a lovey-dovey sort of haze, and looked back up at Lancelot. His eyes were drawn wide and he seemed frightened, stepping backwards away from the desk. He took a few more steps, and Arthur, confused as he was, went to ask him what was wrong, hadn't he just been worried that Merlin was just a fling? But Lancelot spoke before he could ask.

"I'm sorry, sire, I must be going now. I swear on my life that I will not tell anyone what you've told me tonight." He stumbled backward for a few steps before turning and partially sprinting out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him and Arthur flinched at the sound. He couldn't help but wonder if Lancelot had run off because he'd wanted Merlin for himself, and the idea of Arthur wanted him for more than a fling had frightened him. Maybe he was going to try to win Merlin over? What would Arthur do if he won? He would be forced to wallow in the love he had for Merlin, even if the the man didn't love him back. It would be heartbreaking, but he could get over him, couldn't he?

He could only continue to wonder as he dragged himself to his bed, stripped, and wrapped himself in the sheets. If he continued to think about it for half the night before he was able to actually fall asleep, it was something he would never tell anyone else. The King of Camelot, fearing a knight that would take away someone who had already stolen his heart? It was absurd.

And yet, Arthur continued to wonder about it the following morning.

~•~

Merlin was awoken in the morning by a fuzzy feeling on his face. He tried to wipe it away, but there was nothing there, so he turned on his side in his bed and tried to fall back asleep. The tickle on his cheek case again, and Merlin groaned before opening his eyes and rolling over onto his back, before sitting up. He rubbed at his eyes to get rid of the crusty feeling, and looked up around the room. There was nothing unusual, so he figured he was just paranoid, until he felt a tiny weight on the crown of his head. Staying as still as possible, he slowly reached up toward his head to find out what was bothering him, before grabbing at whatever it was as quickly as possible and holding it in his hands. It squealed.

It was fluttering around inside his cupped hands, and he brought his arms down to rest on his legs. Immediately recognizing another sound it let out, he opened his hands and watched as his little ball of light flew out of them and hit him in the cheek. It purposefully had made itself hot, and the feeling on his skin had a slight burn, so he brought his hand up to his cheek.

"Ow!" He exclaimed, "What was that for?!" The ball only made a sound that was as similar to a grunt as it could get. Merlin humphed, before he spoke again. "Where did you come from? I could have sworn I de-spelled you last week." To which, the light proceeded to repeatedly bump into his chest, where his heart was located. It took him a few seconds to realize why it was trying to explain.

"I made you up in my sleep?!" He cried. The light made a sound that seemed too much like 'mhm' to sound like anything that could have been a negative reply. Merlin was frantic at the idea that he had created something, that he had done magic whilst asleep. It had never happened before, and nothing unnatural had occurred the night before. The fact that he had gone out to release some energy only two nights ago made him even more worried. What if it happened again and Arthur was around? What would become of him then? What if it was worse?

As if sensing his stress, the light ball nuzzled his cheek before flying up above his head and settling in his hair. The weight of it on his head was slightly comforting, and he wondered if it could actually produce some key of magic of its own. Whatever it was doing, it was helping, because his heart rate began to slow down and he was feeling better as each second went by. When he was feeling good enough to get out of bed, the light ball stayed on his head while he made himself something to eat.

There was the sound of a knock on the door, but before Merlin could search for something to cover his head with, it opened and the bowl he was holding—luckily it was empty—was overturned and being held over the top of his head. The light tried to get itself out of the confining place, which meant it was pushing at the bowl which he was trying to hold firmly on his head. When Lancelot walked in, he gave Merlin a confused look, obviously wondering about his fashion choices. Sighing in relief, the bowl was removed and the light ball buzzed around again, this time going over to Lancelot.

He backed away from it, thinking it was dangerous, but Merlin just laughed at his actions.

"It doesn't bite. Well, not unless it's mad." He chuckled, and Lancelot stood still and let it sit on his shoulder. It cuddled up on him and Merlin smiled, while Lancelot looked half-frightened and half-curious. He raised his arm to touch it, but it jumped into his hand before he could. It radiated a slight warmth, and it barely felt like anything in his hand, but just the fact that it was there was breathtaking. He could only laugh as it flew out of his hand and around the room, with Merlin laughing along with him.

Afterward, he found his focus again and looked at Merlin, whose eyes were still following the light around the room like a child's might follow something they've never seen before. His eyes were almost glowing, and he was smiling like he was the happiest he had ever been. Lancelot was reminded of how innocent Merlin was, being a village boy. He had barely experienced the pains of war, when death raged above all else. It almost made him enviable, but the heavy weight his magic held would always drag him down. Having to keep a secret so important, so critical to his life; he couldn't even imagine it.

Sighing, he sat at the table and drew Merlin's attention toward him, before gesturing to the seat across from him. He wanted to get this over with, because he knew it wasn't going to end well. After Arthur's confession that Merlin wasn't his usual fling, Lancelot had been shocked. If Merlin wanted to stay with Arthur in the long run, he would eventually be forced to give up his secret. And Lancelot didn't believe Arthur above it to have his lover, whom he felt had betrayed him for many years, burned at the stake. He did not want to be involuntarily subjected to having to watch it happen.

"You need to stop seeing Arthur." He said, and waited for the backlash of his statement.

"We're not even officially together, but even if we were, why would I ever do that?" Merlin said calmly, crossing his arms on top of the table. He was confused, to say the least, because he knew that Lancelot only wanted the best for him. Why would taking away someone that caused him happiness be better for him?

"Because... I don't want to have to see you be burned at the stake, Merlin! If he finds out about you, about your magic, he will kill you, even if he does love you!" Lancelot looked so burdened with the idea that Merlin would die, he was so concerned. The statement was sad, but the fact that Lancelot was so distressed for him; it made him realize he had made the right decision to befriend him those many months ago. However, he also knew he couldn't, he wouldn't, ruin what he had with Arthur.

"Lancelot, I'm sorry. I can't do that."

"But Merlin! You would really give your life for a few months of happiness until he somehow discovers exactly who, exactly what you are?! You're Emrys. He's been searching for you for months!"

"It seems I'm going to have to live this way, then. I'll tell him when I'm ready, and if he wants me to be burned at the stake, then I guess we'll worry about that time when it comes. I can handle myself, alright? I'm more powerful than I look."

Before Lancelot could answer, there was a knock on the door and both of their eyes widened at the sight of Merlin's little ball of light still fluttering around the room. It was impossible to conceal that it had been created with magic, so Merlin quickly said the counter-spell so it would disappear, but it didn't go anywhere. He said it again, and when it didn't work for a second time, Lancelot grabbed a bowl and placed it on top of the light, which had sat itself on the bed. When he let go, the bowl was upturned and the light zoomed around the room again.

There was another knock, followed by a voice.

"Merlin!" It was Gwaine, "Are you home? I was wondering if you wanted to do something today!" Lancelot and Merlin continued to follow the light around the room, trying to catch it whenever it was in their reach. Finally, Merlin caught it in his hand, and shoved his hand in his pocket. However, he had to continuously keep hold on in while it was in his pocket for fear of it getting away. He could feel it beginning to squirm, but he nodded to Lancelot for him to open the door; they silently agreed they would try to get him to leave as soon as possible.

"Merlin!" Gwaine said upon the opening of the door, but when he realized it was Lancelot he was looking at instead, he frowned. "What are you doing here?" He barged into the room, pushing past Lancelot until he saw Merlin standing in the middle of the room. "I wanted to have a day in the city with Merlin, just the two of us!" The sentiment was nice, really, but Merlin had his own problems to deal with.

"I'm sorry, Gwaine. I can't, not today." Merlin shook his head whilst looking at Gwaine. The light held in his fist in his pocket began to heat up. It took all of his willpower not to show a reaction to it, but it was heating fairly quickly.

"Alright, I guess. I wanted to talk to you, so could we just do it here?" Gwaine said, calmly. The light ball was beginning to burn up, and Merlin's hand could barely take it. His entire body started sweating under the heat that was being transmitted from the palm of his hand.

"Y-you know, uh... T-today's not a v-very good d-day." Merlin let out, and Lancelot looked at him worriedly. He looked, to Merlin, as if he had realized something was very much not right with where they hid the ball of the light.

"Alright, when's the next time you can-!" Gwaine began, but was interrupted as Merlin's hand was flung out from his pocket, and the ball of light that came out of it began to fly around the room. His eyes grew wide at the sight.

"OW!" Merlin screeched, gripping his peeling, reddened hand as he went to the bucket of water he kept in the kitchen and sunk his hand into it. It offered little relief, and he would probably need Gaius to check out the burns to mend them, but the feeling was still better than before. However, Gwaine was watching the light fly around the room in anger, as it sped around and hit the walls and the furniture.

"Merlin, what the hell is that?!" Gwaine exclaimed. Merlin couldn't answer, ducking his head. Lancelot went over to him and forced him to draw his hand out of the water so he could see how bad it was. Gwaine's question went unanswered. He spoke again. "Surely, you have some sort of spell to get rid of it, don't you?!" He asked, holding his arms over his head.

The pain in Merlin's hand seemed to disappear. Gwaine knew. Gwaine knew. It felt like everything was falling apart. First Lancelot, and then Gwaine, and Arthur would be next, wouldn't he? He would find out, and then they would never have the future that Merlin wanted to have, because he would be killed for being a sorcerer. The thought of it made his heart ache. There was no way for his happy future to happen; he would always be confined to the cold walls that surrounded him, walls that were littered with the word that haunted him. Sorcerer. It was all he was ever seen as, never as a friend or even a normal person. In Ealdor, his magic had been widely known due to his father's status when he had lived there, and people had even looked down upon him then. Merlin only had one good friend, Will, and he found himself missing his best friend immensely at that very moment.

Gwaine walked toward his friend while he was stuck in his mind, and put his hands on Merlin's shoulder to draw him out of whatever he was thinking. The fog in his eyes parted, and Gwaine looked straight into them before carefully choosing his words as he spoke.

"Merlin," He said, "I swear on my life, that I will not tell a single soul about you, alright?" And Merlin, with tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, smiled and nodded. By this point, the ball of light had tired itself out, and had placed itself on Merlin's shoulder, nuzzling his neck in an apology. Merlin sighed, glad that the worst was over, and then they sat at the table by the fire and Gwaine told them exactly how he had come to know that Merlin was a sorcerer.

Apparently, the night Lancelot had found him, Gwaine had been nearby enough to hear Lancelot say Merlin's name when he had come upon him. After he heard it, he went running to where they were, ready to help if need be. At first, he had thought Merlin was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he knew it couldn't be a coincidence that the sorcerer was in the forest that same night. He hid himself in the trees, so they couldn't see him, but he watched on and followed them until he saw Merlin disappear and Lancelot leave. It was then he realized that Merlin was Emrys.

And, obviously, he wouldn't even think to tell a single soul because it was Merlin, the country boy, who couldn't possibly harbor hate for anyone even if they had wronged him. So Gwaine decided he would keep his mouth shut until he had a chance to talk with him, and, lo and behold, here he was, telling them exactly what he'd seen. Merlin and Lancelot could hardly believe their ears.

And, it seemed, they wouldn't have the time to even try to comprehend the situation. There was another knock on the door, and at this point, Merlin felt as if he never wanted another visitor again. He quickly realized his light was still on his shoulder, so he—carefully—put it in his pocket and willed it to stay there, so whoever was at the door wouldn't see it. It squeaked a bit, but it otherwise didn't move and Merlin was grateful.

Gwaine went to the door to open it, and Merlin sat back in his chair to observe as Gwaine fling open the door and was met with a blushing Arthur, who was trying to look behind Gwaine to find Merlin. However, Gwaine was constantly shifting himself in the doorway so Arthur couldn't see past him. Merlin and Lancelot were snickering from inside.

"Gwaine! Move aside! I've come to see Merlin!" At that moment, the so well-behaved ball of light had extracted itself from Merlin's pocket and had begun to fly around the room again. It wasn't causing any trouble, but if Arthur saw it, Merlin would be dead where he stood. So he scrambled after it, knocking over things as he did, with Lancelot stumbling over them behind him. Unfortunately, Arthur seemed to hear the sounds that were coming from the inside, and he craned his neck even further to try and see what was going on. Gwaine, after realizing the situation, was doing an even better job of blocking Arthur from seeing the inside.

"Merlin?! Gwaine, what's going on in there?! Is that Lancelot too?!" Arthur questioned, trying to push past Gwaine to get in, but Gwaine just pushed back and shoved him to the ground. Before Arthur could get up, he shut the door behind him—concealing the sounds and what went on behind it—and pulled Arthur up before wrapping and arm around his shoulder tightly and leading him away from Merlin's home. No matter how much Arthur tried to get out of his hold, Gwaine kept on, and eventually Arthur slackened against him as Gwaine rambled on about some girl he'd met at the tavern.

Merlin, Arthur thought, I really hope you have a good explanation for this.

-

OH MD GDOCKG GOD that's like 4000 fucking words and I can't handle

sorry it's been so long!! school has returned and I am sadly a student who attempts to do well

this took me the whole week plus like 2 or 3 hours last weekend to write oml

~Dev❤️